Tag Archives: writing

impatience.

This impatient heart inside me

yearning for answers . . . to know

unsatisfied with in-between,

spiteful of my need to grow.

• • •

The heart within me groans –

how I hate the call of waiting!

how I hate all that’s unknown!

• • •

He tells me His work is slow,

His process long and grinding,

but His providence will never fail

down these paths unwinding.

• • •

I have no cause for doubt,

nor reason to question His name,

yet my impatient heart is here again,

exchanging faithfulness for pain.

• • •

I do it to myself,

this wandering from grace.

“Oh my Jesus, take me back

to the place of resting in your pace.”

spring 2017 // maddie macmath

IMG_5698

More Like Ten Days

So, the whole 25 days of blogging kind of fell off the bandwagon at certain points. Which was to be expected, with finals and coming home and all. But ten posts and eleven drafts came out of the past twenty-five days, so I’d say it was a success. Even more than whatever I posted, I learned a lot about myself and the Lord in the past few weeks. They haven’t been easy weeks – it’s been a lot of internal wrestling about who I am and what the Lord is calling me to, not to mention tests, papers, and car problems – but forcing myself to write throughout it has been one of the biggest blessings of the season. There’s also been a lot of laughter, smiles, and hugs in the past 25 days too, which writing has helped me to see, so I’m a very happy 21 year old.

In case you missed anything. . .here’s a recap of the past 25 Days of Blogging:

Day 1: Reflections on Writing

Day 2: Crying in a Coffee Shop

Day 3: My Devotional on Community

Day 4: My Summer Faves

Day 5: Hanging with the Stars

Day 6: skipped

Day 7: Watch What I’ll Do

Day 8: skipped

Day 9: It is Well with My Soul

Day 10: skipped              

Day 11: skipped                                          <———- this was the rough week pre finals

Day 12: Five Truths I Learn When I Have a Crush

Day 13: What I Miss About Acworth, GA

Day 14: skipped

Day 15: skipped                                       

Day 16: skipped  

Day 17: skipped  

Day 18: skipped                                        <———- this was the rough week of finals 

Day 19: skipped  

Day 20: Whatever is True

Day 21: skipped  

Day 22: skipped  

Day 23: skipped  

Day 24: skipped                                           <———- this week included a lot of family and presents

 

IMG_6489

Reflections on Writing

A couple days ago (I think it was when I was finishing an Internet Cafe devotional at 11:55pm), I had this idea. 25 days of blogging. One blog post a day until Christmas. Force myself to blog everyday and do it during the 25 days that will include finals, a roommate moving out, my 21st birthday, and Christmas in a new home. It was quite the late-night idea. Honestly, I didn’t think it would stick. Yet, here we are.

The thing is, I love writing. I’ve always loved writing. I remember being asked to write a short paragraph in third grade and when I came home, I wrote eight more pages. I’ve filled probably fifteen journals over the years. It’s never because anyone made me or even because anyone was telling me that I was good enough for it – I have always written because it’s a part of who I am.

I’m always thinking deeply and I am constantly searching for ways to put what I’m feeling into words. I don’t really write for anything other than my own necessity.

But like with anything in life that is a part what refreshes us, it can become so easily confused and wrapped up in our identity. Half the time my lack of blog posts is not because I don’t have anything to say, but rooted in my own fears. I worry that it’s not good enough. That I haven’t said things eloquently enough. I worry that I’m not good enough. No one probably even cares to read what I write, so what’s the point?

The point is that writing draws me closer to the heart of Jesus. It brings clarity to things that were previously jumbled up in my head. More than that, blogging forces me to connect the pieces of what is happening in my life and what I see Jesus doing with the truth of who He is. For as much as I love journaling, let’s be real – there’s no accountability in it. Granted, that’s part of the beauty of journaling; it’s me and Jesus and all my raw, broken, messy pieces. Yet there’s a fine line between that being beautiful and necessary and very dangerous for my soul. When I make myself write in a way that is grounded in Scripture and celebrates the things Jesus is doing, with authenticity and honesty, I am always refreshed. When I do it on a platform that forces me to fight the lies of insecurity, fear, and the Enemy in my head that say “you aren’t good enough,” I am empowered.

That’s why I’ve decided to do twenty-five days of blogging up to Christmas. Somedays it might be short. Someday it might be long. Some posts may be deep, some not so much. I’ll probably miss a few days and I’ll learn, yet again, what it means to show myself the kind of grace that Christ lavishes on me (and others).

I don’t know that anyone even really read this blog. I don’t know that anyone will think that anything I post in the next 25 days is valuable. That’s ok. I’m not really writing for anything other than the renewal of my soul and the glory of the Lord. The way He chooses to get glory is His prerogative anyway, whether that’s speaking to lots of people or simply choosing to change my heart.

So here’s to 25 blank drafts, 25 days of craziness, unknowns, and endings, and 25 days of pressing into Jesus!

IMG_4830

A Prayer Journal Entry

Brace yourselves. I’m about to get real, real over here.

When I was praying the other night, I had to have some Maddie and Jesus honesty time. And while normally Maddie and Jesus talks stay between Maddie and Jesus, I felt like I needed to share these. First, I want to let you know where I’ve been spiritually. I should only be sharing highlights if I’m not afraid to be real about the less than ideal stuff too. Second, I want to let you know if you have been in/are in/will ever be in a weird, confused, and kind of upset but also still in love with Jesus place that doesn’t totally make sense, you aren’t alone. I’m pretty sure it’s just part of the journey. And finally, I wanted to let you read how I write when I pray, since I’ve found writing things down often helps me sort through what I’m thinking or what I feel like the Holy Spirit is speaking. I love learning how other people connect with Jesus or use their journals, so maybe you care about that kind of thing too.

This is a genuine, recent entry out of my prayer journal (excluding some personal details). Welcome to the heart of a girl whose life isn’t always on-my-knees-first-thing-in-the-morning and praying-for-the-cashier-because-the-Holy-Spirit-said-to kind of love for Jesus. Sometimes my love for Jesus, in a very non-glamourous way, means I have to tell Him I’ve had some expectations that He hasn’t met. And we have to deal with that. So this entry actually has a lot of uncomfortable vulnerability and bad theology. Yeah, I know. Don’t say I didn’t (…say I didn’t) warn you.

• • •

Where’s my first love, Lord?

Where’s the love and zeal I used to have for you?

It’s not that I stopped loving You. Or stopped pursuing You. Or stopped believing in You. But I’m lying to myself if I say that we are okay. That everything is like it used to be.

I’ve doubted Your power. I’ve questioned Your love. I’ve believed that You aren’t wholly trustworthy. I’ve relied on my own strength. I’ve dismissed the ways You’ve moved and spoken in my past. I’ve ignored Your voice. I’ve accepted some easy, powerless rhythm with You as normal and comfortable. I’ve stopped clinging to the truth that You are as good as You say You are. Because, why?

I used to run to You. To prayer. To listening. To community. To worship. To deep places and deep things. To just being with You. 

It’s like my Spirit was all dried up by questions and confusion and unmet expectations. 

I think I’m angrier with you than I want to believe. I’ve followed you so wholeheartedly. My family has followed you so wholeheartedly. I could go down the list Lord. I just don’t understand. . .

And I know. I know what You’ll say. Maybe that’s why I’ve let the fire fade, or something. Because I don’t want to hear, “You aren’t supposed to understand. You have to just trust me.” Again. 

I can hear the bad theology reverberating in my head. I know what lies sound like. But I can’t help but feel like You’ve broken promises to me. I feel like You’ve let me down.

I hate that because I know it’s not true. I hate that because my life isn’t dramatically or catastrophically falling apart. And maybe, even more, I hate that because I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to get back to the old us.

It’s not that I don’t love You. It’s not that I don’t want to love You. I want to want You again. I want my first love. I want pictures and discernment and just being with You. I want to believe in the power of prayer and the weight and glory of everything You can do. I want hours in your presence that feel like just a few minutes. I want You to the be the first and last thing I think about everyday. I want to pray for people and encourage people and see Your heart for people again. I want to remember what it’s like to be overwhelmed with all the finite love I’m capable of for You. I want to be overwhelmed by Your infinite love for me. I want to be reminded. I need You to remind me.

Wanting it is enough, right? It has to be enough. I feel like it’s all I have.

I don’t know when my Spirit dried up or died down. I don’t know when one of our wheels slipped off the track. I don’t know when I started building up cynicism or anger or hurt towards You. But I need you to teach me how to seek Your face again. Because I really do love You.

IMG_4506 IMG_4508 IMG_4509 IMG_4510