I just had this “Eureka!” moment that I simply had to share with my blog readers.

Genesis 2:15 shares that God created work in the garden before man sinned. Work was an original part of God’ plan for mankind-not a punishment for sin! In Genesis 3:17-19, sin cursed work by making it painful, difficult, and draining (using words such as “pain,” “thorns, thistles,” “sweat,” etc.) So God intends for us to be productive as a part of His plan for our completeness.

Though it may shade my character to those who think me perfect…ahem…I’ll be frank and say that I struggle with this ridiculous conundrum:

There are times that I have this paralyzing fear of work. If someone presents me with an idea, job, or need, I’ll shy away from it if I think it will take too much work. “That wears me out just thinking about it!” I’ll joke. Now fear in general can be paralyzing, but this is something I have no right to be fearful of!

The flipside of this conundrum is that, as I’m growing up, I have this innate desire to be productive and nurture. I want my apartment to be known as a place where people will be well taken care of-they will be warm and cozy, surrounded by nostalgic fragrance, given appealing food, listen to interesting music, and their soul will be tended to. Earlier this year I wanted to test out my green thumb as gardening has never been a part of my life. I bought some potted plants, transferred them, and, believe it or not, they are still thriving! I then wondered how challenging it would be to grow herbs for my own cooking. I haven’t started that, but it’s on my list.

So, to be unclear, I desire to be productive BUT I desire to avoid work. And realistically, people who avoid work, kill life.

God’s plan has always been for us to work and be productive. The temptation to be lazy is not where I live in Christ!

‘I wish they’d hurry up.’ I thought and rocked my foot back and forth in the chair I was sitting in. I stared at my friends with a tired gaze. They’d been talking with these people for a long time and my stomach was eating itself. ‘I wonder where we’re going to eat. I’m thinking Moe’s. I could totally go for chips and queso.’

“Hi there!” I looked up to see the wife of our senior ministries pastor standing next to me holding Samantha. She was standing unusually close-I had to crank my neck uncomfortably to look at her. She smiled congenially.

“Do you know Samantha?”

“Yeah, of course I do! Hi Samantha, I think your dress is pretty. How many ladybugs are on it?”

Samantha responded and then the conversation died. ‘Hmm…I don’t get it. This is really uncomfortable!’ I’d never actually met this pastor’s wife, and she stood next to me-very close to me. Not facing me, which would invite conversation. Then she just slowly walked away.

“Hi there, do you go to church here?” I turned around to see two grinning middle-aged men closing in. They were wearing polo shirts-unbuttoned, with a handful of white chest hair tufting over the top and tucked into ironed jeans. Loafers and leather jackets completed the look of a retired country clubber. The one man had the grin of a car salesman complete with white hair he’d died brown about six months earlier. He was the one who initiated most of the conversation.

Someone walked up, trying to initiate conversation with both men, but the car salesman would not be distracted. He physically moved people who were in his way, so that he could come sit by me and continue our fascinating conversation about my workplace and ministry. He asked some pretty direct questions about the college, and I thought ’surely he’s asking on behalf of a granddaughter.’

“Wow, this college sounds amazing-especially if people like you come from there. Do you have a business card?”

Red flag. “No, I do not.” I said decisively. I’d long ago stopped smiling during the conversation, and had positioned my body away from him so he didn’t think I was interested. He was giving me a weird vibe.

“Okay, so what did I miss?” the other car salesman inquired. He clapped and rubbed his hands together in anticipation, crouched to hear, and then looked at me. “Wow, you sure are a beautiful lady!”

Red Flag.

“Well, Steve, why don’t you say it right out loud?” the car salesman blushed on Steve’s behalf.

“Well she is, isn’t she? I can say it. You may be too shy to say it, but I’ll just say it. She’s pretty.”

They bantered back and forth on this for a minute and I didn’t know what to do. Finally they resumed conversation with me, and, as they peppered me with questions, Nate and company sauntered past, still gabbing, and completely oblivious to me.

“Nate. NATE!” I hissed and waved at him. No use. I was trapped with the weird old men asking me personal questions. Finally they closed the interrogation and the car salesman patted me on the shoulder.

Red Flag.

“Well, Daisy, we’re going out for ice cream if you’d like to join us.”

RED FLAG!

“I’ll see what my group is doing.” I curtly responded and turned around in my seat. Immediately upon their departure, a young couple surrounded me and clearly stated that they were there to rescue me. The men were circling in the aisle behind me, so we put our heads together, found a singly guy friend, and made him walk me to my car. He was such a great sport!

More to come…

This week has ran past me at full speed and I’m still reeling, trying to get everything done. Sometimes shouldering someone else’s burdens takes a toll on my own heart and I don’t know it until I cry at something very mundane. Then I know that my heart needs a little time away with my Savior. That was last night.

This week has been full of opportunities-ones I would never trade for anything, but required sacrifice on my part. Unusual medical situations came up that I had to help provide for, girls with burdens who I could listen to and walk with toward hope, or just needs for quiet places to do homework. The girl coming in in tears because she just needed to talk with her boyfriend and hadn’t been able to. The girl wanting a backrub or a bubblebath. The late-night planning meetings for society. The girl wanting to bake cookies in my kitchen, grab ice from my freezer, store food in my fridge, borrow a cup, go to the bathroom in my bathroom because theirs is closed for cleaning. And on top of that, my normal one on one meetings with my leadership team, dean’s staff, etc.

My bedroom became a solace for girls needing the quiet place to study, talk on the phone, or just chill out. My couch became a bed for myself or others as needs arose and sacrifices were made. The Lord showed me how to die to myself a number of times, and for that, I’m really grateful! Yeah, I could have done more. But I’m doing more now than I did last year at this time and that’s what keeps me going-seeing change in myself as well as the girls I minister with.

Last night was probably the breaking point. I have been feeling “blah” all week-very tired, achy, stomach stuff, etc. I really wanted to go to sleep, but was on-call. I really wanted to stay awake to hang out with my girls, but kept falling asleep. Finally, I closed my bedroom door, checked my email one last time, and went to bed. There it was. The last straw. I’d just gotten an email from someone arguing a decision I’d made. I understood where she was coming from, but her unkind words really shot arrows at my heart when I normally would have shrugged them off. I knew I was being overly sensitive, but the tears came nonetheless. And sob I did.

The sleep helped. I have to plan a children’s program for tonight, and children’s church for two services tomorrow without any helpers. I need to be in the dorm and available for the girls I love so much. But above all, I need to trust the Lord for His provision. I don’t have strength-I need His. This song has been my mainstay this week:

Stil, My Soul, Be Still

Still my soul be still
And do not fear
Though winds of change may rage tomorrow
God is at your side
No longer dread
The fires of unexpected sorrow

God You are my God
And I will trust in You and not be shaken
Lord of peace renew
A steadfast spirit within me
To rest in You alone

Still my soul be still
Do not be moved
By lesser lights and fleeting shadows
Hold onto His ways
With shield of faith
Against temptations flaming arrows

Still my soul be still
Do not forsake
The Truth you learned in the beginning
Wait upon the Lord
And hope will rise
As stars appear when day is dimming

Words and Music by Keith & Kristyn Getty & Stuart Townend

I would be scared to death. If I were a dorm supervisor, I would wish someone would have told me what it was really like. What they did, how they felt, how they dealt.

Allow me to share. Over the course of time, I plan to chronicle my time here as a residence supervisor to eighty-three girls. It is a unique ministry, in fact, no ministry can quite compare to the gamut of opportunities I get in this one. Read on.

August 27, 2009

“My Sweet Savior,

All of my leadership team is back on campus safely and I’m overjoyed! As I sat together with them all last night, my heart squeezed with pride. I’m so proud of them and their walks with You! As I looked at each face, I could recall a number of struggles they’d been through, hard decisions made, etc. in which they look more like You now than they did before the trial. I feel like this, my third year, is my first year of fully being the dorm sup. I’ve got established connections with each girl and I can’t wait for one-on-one time with them again!

I did begin to lose composure at one point while talking because I realized that next year at this time I didn’t know who they’d be with. Yahweh Jireh, as You’ve provided in so many miraculous ways, I ask for your special work to be done in Kathleen’s replacement as in mine. Please reveal each girl clearly and work in their hearts even now.

Amen”

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless–it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.

~C.S. Lewis

What are good vacations made of?

They are made of:

Early morning walks for donuts and coffee
World’s Best Donuts, Java Moose, Drury Lane Books, and Sven and Ole’s
Reading God’s word at the lake
Late breakfasts and early dinners
Getting lost in bookshops
Hiking trails along lakes and waterfalls
Devouring sinfully delicious custard
Cliff-jumping into the lake
Laughing at seagulls
Afternoon strolls along shoreline and shops
Keeping a sweatshirt handy for the unpredictably crisp lake air
Dockside Fish-n-chips
Finding outdoor seating, then being unexpectedly poured on
Lazy strolls to the lighthouse at sunset
Staying out as late as we please…or going to sleep as early as we please
Laughter
Incessantly snapping photos
Annoying my little brother
Family.

My Dear Jesus,

Sometimes this long-distance relationship is really challenging! Your letters to me always contain words that I need to hear-words of comfort, love, and admonition, but sometimes I just want more. Sometimes I just wish this waiting time were over and that I could just be with you and never have to leave you!

This whole week, I’ve just wished I could walk by sight instead of faith, be eternally free from sin’s power, hug my Savior, and just not worry about the cares of this life-the choices, the temptations, the motives, the desires. It’s all a part of the battle, I know, but every day I’ve been yearning for my home more.

This week, several friends face the reality of death in their families. While I mourned with them over their losses, I felt a little jealous. I want to be with you in heaven! Each morning, I wake up already weary of my struggle with sin and begging you for mercy for yesterday and grace for today. Each night I go to sleep with the understanding that one day, I’ll wake up, not in my bed, but in your presence!

I know tomorrow’s bright hope and I can’t wait!

Until Then,

Daisy

While discussing guilt and salvation, I asked my small group if they’d ever felt guilty for something they did, even if they never would have been caught. My redhead from the previous post, looked at me with wide eyes while listening to the others, then, as if under compulsion, slowly slid her hand into the air.

“One time I accidentally flooded the bathroom…” and upon completing that statement, there was an uncomfortable moment of silence, then a deluge (pardon the pun) of questions from the other 3 girls.

Later, as we discussed prayer, I asked for personal requests. As I listened calmly to the usual ‘pray for so-and-so as they travel,’ requests, my little redhead looked at me stoically and offered, “Pray for my grandparents to stay safe.”

“Why wouldn’t they be safe?” I asked

“Well, sometimes they get into mischief .” She stated matter-of-factly. Once again, an uncomfortable moment of silence, then the questions…and again, stifling laughter can truly be physically painful!

Last night we played a night game with our fourth through sixth graders in which our leader gets abducted and we need to search for “money” to buy him back. While looking for money, the kidnapper, “Agent Max,” could tag you. If he does, your group has to give him one of your packets of “money.”

On our way over to the search site, one of my girls tugged on my sleeve and asked “Miss Daisy, what is Agent Max going to do with all of that money??” I look down at possibly the shortest fourth-grader I’ve ever met and responded with a wide-eyed “I really don’t know!”

With confidence, she clutched my hand and resolved, “Well, if he scares the Strawberries (our group) I’m not going to give him the scare money until he promises to give it to the orphans in Zambia!”

Sometimes stifling a laugh can be physically painful. I raised my eyebrows, and just nodded my head, squeezed her hand and said “Okay, then. Sounds like a plan.”

While at camp, I’m learning that I’m a terrible multi-tasker. But you know what else I’m learning right now? I have the ability to focus on wholeheartedly pleasing God in holiness and righteousness in this season of singleness. I don’t have the weight of juggling my duties of pleasing a person AND God. I don’t have to balance the desire to make a man and family happy with the desire to thirst for God.

If I’m being honest, which I’ve promised myself to be on here, I’d say that I struggle with singleness at times. But when confronted with this perspective, I actually can find and taste freedom in God’s perfect plan. While I look forward to a family of my own, I can serve Christ’s family with reckless abandon. And the more I learn to forget myself, the more refreshing that service is!

I love how God’s plan includes anomalies that aren’t meant to make sense until you practice them!