January 12, 2017
11:30 pm
Beijing, China
I forgot to post a blog yesterday, but I really want to talk about two things tonight. The first is what happened yesterday (a team building party) and the second is something Abba put on my heart to share (and a cool coincidence). They are very different, so they don’t make sense to go into the same post. This is the second post, so please feel free to either read this and then go back to my first post for today, go back to my first post and then continue to this one, or just read one or the other. It is completely up to you.
It all starts with my cool coincidence. Remember how I once told you that a book series was more important than you? Yeah, that’s still a thing. Sorry. But, anyway, I just finished the book series I was reading (The Mortal Instruments, by Cassandra Clare). There’s a prequel and sequel series that are both on my list, but I haven’t started yet. C.S. Lewis once said,
It is a good rule after reading a new book never to allow yourself another new one till you have read an old one in between.
To tell you the truth, I’ve never been great about following that one; there are just too many books on my “To Read” list. But this time I’ve decided to follow one of my favorite authors’ advice. So, since I’m in between series, I’m going to reread The Shack.
“So where’s the coincidence?” you ask. The coincidence—and I’m serious about having just realized this—is that the last time I read The Shack was six years ago on a plane over the Pacific Ocean. Why was I on a plane? I was heading back to the States from our family trip to China. Kind of crazy, huh? The cool thing is, this book really had a big impact on my life. I had already read the book once, so I was rereading it then, as well, but that reading is the one that actually sticks in my mind.
The first, and the not so important, reason I remember it is the conversation that it started with the guy sitting next to me on the plane. For some reason, when we got the tickets for our trip back, there was one seat that was nowhere near all the others. Officially, the seat belonged to Meghan or someone, but I volunteered as tribute. Besides, I figured I’d be reading or watching a movie, so it wasn’t a big deal to sit by a stranger. We were past the halfway point and I had barely spoken to my neighbor. I had been reading for a while and finally decided to stop and switch to the book I was supposed to be reading for class. Upon seeing me close the book, my neighbor turned to me and mentioned that he had really enjoyed reading that book about a year before. We started discussing it and the fact that we were both Ch—stians. Turns out this guy had just been visiting his family for Christmas. Although he was American, he had grown up in Mongolia, where his parents had been called to a certain job. He was now working in Kansas, I believe, but really missed life over there. We talked for awhile about what life had been like for him growing up and what my family was like. I don’t remember a lot of the conversation, but I know it was interesting and enjoyable. I didn’t mention it before, but the guy was young and fairly attractive. I believe I later found out that he was 24 or something around there. I was 16, but I think I’ve always looked a bit older. I was 16 with a cute guy talking to me; I’m pretty sure I flirted a bit. That was until Lia, a friend I had made on the trip, came up and ruined it by mentioning that I was a junior in high school. Based on the look on his face, I’m fairly certain he was flirting, as well, and was a bit horrified to find out I was so young. Nevertheless, we continued to talk throughout the rest of the flight and wished each other good luck in our respective aspirations as we landed in LA. Needless to say, that experience sticks out in my mind and was a humorous way to end an extremely memorable family trip.
The second reason I remember reading it is actually important. The Shack completely changed the way I look at my relationship with Abba. While I didn’t act on a lot of it back then, it was something that stuck with me as I started to transition into college and adulthood. Although I have been blessed to not have experienced anything in my life even close to the devastating events that begin this book, I have had struggles. There have definitely been times where I have felt far far away from Abba. I know I’ve mentioned my battle with perfectionism a couple of times, but I want to take a moment to share with you guys a little more about it. I actually think it’s a really important part of my testimony and I think it has played a huge role in shaping who I am.
When I was in high school and younger, I didn’t really think about being in a relationship with Abba. It was just natural to me. I was never exactly disciplined in my relationship, rarely reading the B—le or doing more than going to ch—ch on Sunday. Yet, p—ying for me was never hard. I may not have been diligent about it, but I always felt comfortable calling out for Abba’s help. I could constantly feel Abba surrounding me. He was everywhere and if I needed Him, all I had to do was whisper His name, and there He was. I never doubted that He was with me. Additionally, I didn’t really worry too much about school. Yeah, I still strove for good grades and test scores, but I wasn’t focused on my GPA or being valedictorian. I still had some minor anxiety and still worried about things, but I believed that my best was good enough. Unfortunately, that all changed when I got to college. My first semester of college was easy. It was all intro classes where, if you paid attention in class and read the assigned reading, you were bound to get a good grade. Not to toot my own horn, but I ended my first semester with a 4.0. But I didn’t even think about that too much until the end of my second semester, when my school held an honor’s day celebration for top students. Somehow, after that day, I was convinced I needed to live up to this expectation of getting top marks. Although no one had ever told me that they expected me to continue to do that well, I told myself that I needed to get all As on my upcoming finals. Then that turned into needing to keep my 4.0 throughout the next year. After getting a B spring of sophomore year, my parents expected me to let this go. Instead, I just told myself it was even more important for me to get As because I couldn’t afford to let my GPA drop any lower. Let me say, this entire time, my parents and everyone around me were saying that I didn’t need to worry about grades, they weren’t that important. But no matter how much they said it, I couldn’t hear it. Over a very short time, this need to keep my grades up developed into proving myself worthy and earning relationships. My good grades made me deserving of my professors’ attention and help. If I stopped succeeding in school, I would lose my parents’ respect and would no longer be worthy of their love and care. This need to be perfect became overwhelming. Soon, it grew to the point where it started interfering with my spiritual life.
My relationship with Abba had already gotten harder when I went off to college. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t surrounded by people who loved Abba the same way I did. Even though I found a Ch—stian sorority to give me support, I still felt like I lacked something. I found it harder to communicate with Abba, but I wanted to grow. This led to me examining how I could improve my relationship with Him. I started to think back on that book I had read junior year in high school, The Shack. In The Shack, the main character’s wife, and later the main character himself, calls Abba “Papa.” It shows the closeness and personal nature of their relationship. Since that’s what I was hoping to find, I decided to find another, more personal name for Him. Papa wasn’t natural to me. J—s was my first attempt, but that name had too much tied to it for it to be personal. I tried YAHWEH, but that felt too weird. I came to start calling Him Abba after hearing a devotion led by a sorority sister, which is a story for another time. For a while, it worked. But soon, my need to be perfect got in the way.
I somehow got it twisted and thought that I needed to prove to Abba that I was worthy of His love. But I couldn’t do it. It’s impossible to be perfect and Abba doesn’t call us to be. In fact, His grace means that we don’t have to be. Yet I had it stuck in my head that I needed to earn His grace. Where I had once been so sure of His presence, I no longer could feel Him at all. It felt like I was yelling into a storm and my screams were simply blown away by the wind, never landing on any ears. I tried doing devotions, but then I’d miss a few days and feel so guilty that I couldn’t make myself start again. I went to ch—ch, but I couldn’t praise Him and the message rarely connected. I felt like I was drowning and I couldn’t keep my head above water. But I couldn’t tell anyone I was struggling. This need to be perfect had gone way too far. I had to be the perfect student, so I couldn’t tell any of my professors that I was having anxiety problems. I had to be the perfect sorority sister, so I couldn’t admit that I was having difficulty reaching out to Abba. I had to be the perfect daughter, so I had to be the perfect Ch—stian, so I couldn’t tell my parents that I hadn’t spoken to Abba or read my B—le or gone to ch—ch in a month because I couldn’t disappoint them. This need to show the world that I wasn’t struggling became the waves that kept pushing me back below the surface.
Thank Abba, I finally suffered a panic attack; one that was strong enough to break the cycle. I got to a point where I was so afraid of failing that I couldn’t get myself to do schoolwork. I had to tell a professor that I couldn’t get a paper to her in time. I had to tell another that I was struggling with a position he asked me to fill. I had to tell my Young Life leader that I couldn’t put on a face with kids that night. It’s weird looking back and thinking about what a blessing that was. Because I had to do all of those things, I found the courage to discuss what was going on spiritually with my chaplain at school. I was able to share my struggles with my sorority sisters and my parents. In turn, they were able to help me realize that my relationship with Abba wasn’t broken, just misunderstood. My chaplain helped me to find a new way of reading the B—le that didn’t overwhelm me. I was able to truly talk to Abba about everything that had been happening. For the first time in years, I felt Him beside me again.
That said, everything didn’t get fixed in a day. I’m still struggling a lot with perfectionism. It gets harder when I forget to do my devotions or I let days go by without speaking to Abba. But now, when I do, I’m not afraid to go back to Him. I’ve stopped apologizing for my long absences, because I know that He’s always with me.
So what does this have to do with The Shack? Well, mostly the name thing, because even though that seems to play a small part in my testimony, it’s actually made a huge difference for me. Abba is no longer just some great big invisible giant dictator in the sky. Now He’s tangible and relatable. I can tell Him things because he’s my Heavenly daddy. Like a daddy, He sometimes needs to be strict, He has to let me suffer the consequences for my choices, and He can’t protect me from everything. But also like a daddy, His love for me knows no bounds, He wants what’s best for me, and He will always be there when I need Him. In addition to the name, The Shack helped me understand more about how to relate to Abba and how to understand why certain things happen. I don’t want to give away too much of the book in case you all haven’t read it, so I’m not going to go into too many specifics, but there are many new perspectives that I gained from reading this.
That turned into a full testimony. Oops, didn’t mean to give that. Truthfully, I’m not sure why I wrote it in the first place. Maybe I just needed to get it down somewhere or maybe I needed a reminder. Perhaps one of you out there needed to read it and know that everything is going to eventually be alright. If that’s the case, remember this: You define your day. When something goes wrong, don’t dwell on it. Realize you’ve messed up, laugh at yourself, and move on. Trust that Abba knows what He’s doing. You don’t have to get it right, because He’ll use whatever you do to further His plans.
Okay, that’s it. I’m finally done. Thanks for sticking with me. Talk to you all soon.
Love,
Kristen
