extravagant

This is a love letter. It's sappy. You are forewarned.

I hate the winter. It's cold and yucky. Snow seems so nice initially, but it soon turns to sleet, slush, and dirty ice. It's a pain to travel and going anywhere takes lots of preparation: bundling up, warming the car, shoveling the driveway, wiping off the windshield...it never really ends. Winter's easily my least favorite season.

For a long time my heart was frozen over. I remember struggling with depression in high school because I considered myself completely unlovable. Who would want to love fat, ugly, unpopular me? It seemed a lot of time like no one did, least of all God. I wrapped myself up in that identity like an ugly, foul-smelling blanket. If I didn't expect anyone to love me, it wouldn't hurt when they didn't. When God didn't.

I ended up unable to feel anything, except hurt and anger. As my faith grew, I accepted the fact that God loved me. It said so in Scripture, my teachers said it was true, all the songs I sang proclaimed it, so I had to believe it. But this fact was firmly head knowledge. I never felt the presence of God in my life. I worshiped because I had to; I almost never meant the words. I struggled with feeling guilty because I didn't experience certain emotions during worship, like everyone around me seemed to. I wondered if the people in my area -- my supposed Christian community -- even liked me.

At SLT, I pleaded with God to show me that he actually did love me. For so long I was terrified to ask that question, because I was terrified about what I would hear in response. And at the time, I had what seemed like an answer from God -- and though it was not completely satisfying, it was enough for me then.

But God had much more in store.

In 2009, everything changed for me. I started to learn to trust and love the people around me -- a few close friends. Then I learned to love the people I ministered to. God taught me what it was like to serve out of love and not duty, maybe for the first time.

God started to pull up the weeds in my life. I remember when the first one came out. Near the end of the semester I was irrationally upset because no one had come to some events I had tried to recruit to. Obviously, this proved that I was right -- they didn't like me; or appreciate me; or approve of me. And God felt the same way. For the first time I was able to confess these feelings to a friend and out loud to God.

In Malawi, God pulled up even more. I came face to face with insecurities, weakness, and sin, as God showed me some of the ugliest part of myself while still telling me "I love you." [sorry all that happened around you, teammates ;)] All that work continued -- intensified -- when I came back. Someone told me that I was "very unGreg" during that time; but I think I was myself for the first time. I was no longer the tightly controlled person I usually am. I was at the mercy of my emotions, like I usually try to avoid. It was painful. Sometimes it seemed like God had only opened my heart up in the spring to rip it to shreds.

God reached me in a song. God reached me through the gospel of Matthew. God talked to me in prayer. He used an image of Cody -- my adorable dog -- to tell me how simply and powerfully He loved me. It's silly, I know; I don't care.

I used to not really know what it meant to be loved; I probably still don't. But I finally know that God loves me. And not just "love" in the sense of that overused, cliche, "I love my new shoes," valentine's day, over-saturated word. I have a God who wants me. He longs for me; He is jealous for me;; he thinks of me as a prize. He turned my life upside down to tell me.

I finally understand. We studied Jonah in August and I remember how Trever talking about how calling means suffering. I experienced that a lot last semester and in Malawi. Sometimes I do ministry or serve others out of good motives; because I want to follow Jesus and because He definitely deserves it. More often I do it because I am loved by Jesus and I desperately want to be near Him. God's calling is a calling to mission and to suffering; I welcome both with open arms. Paul said, "Next to knowing Christ I count everything as loss." I finally understand, because palibe ofana ndi yesu. There is no one like Jesus.

For me, that's enough.

I can feel you all around me
Thickening the air I'm breathing
Holding on to what I'm feeling
Savoring this heart that's healing

Take my hand, I give it to you
Now you own me, all I am
You said you would never leave me
I believe you; I believe