God the provider // for lack of a better word

Hey y’all!

I’ve had a good week, and I hope you have had a good one, too! This week was momentous, to say the least. I turned seventeen and hit 200 subscribers on this blog!! Woo!! That is so crazy to me. All in all, I’ve had a pretty swell week.

One of the things I’ve noticed about this week, however, is that I am feeling a lot more scattered. As a person who spends a lot of time in her head, I can completely say that I spent way more time in my head this week. Even so, the whole time, I was looking for missing pieces to make it all make sense.

Saturday was rough and because I process my feelings through words, I sat down and wrote a really angsty rant about how “stuck in my head” I felt, and how it was “like I was sitting at the bottom of a pool but couldn’t get up to breathe.”

It felt amazing to get off my chest and out of my head, and at the time, I felt incredibly poetic and witty. Looking back now, I really was just sleep-deprived. I got maybe four hours of sleep that night? Yeah, Madeleine, you just need to SLEEP, girl.

Even though this entire thing was brought on by a larger (yet mundane) problem, there still was a level of concern tucked behind it. I am afraid of being misunderstood. I am afraid of the inability to say what I need to say. God has gifted me with a mind that thinks oh, so colorfully. I like being in it. It is beautiful and magnificently decadent. Both in creativity and emotion, it spans broad territories full of thought and wonderings.

The problem, however, lies in the fact that it often is a struggle to say what I see or think. I don’t think that this problem is rooted in the fear of how my words are received, though that may play a part. I do think, though, that I fear not having the vocabulary to encapsulate what I’m thinking.

Many of you know what I’m talking about. It is really hard to put words to the deep longing we have inside of us; the longing for more in life, the longing for adventure, or the longing for our Creator.

Maybe this is just me, but as a small child I used to be terrified of growing up and then not knowing how to use words properly. That sounds ridiculous now, and honestly, I find it beyond funny. 😀 The root of that childish fear is still nagging me, though.

I realize that this entire intro has been me just proving my enneagram type is a 4

This year in my English class I had the ability to explore my own thoughts a little more than I would have typically been able to do. There were more creative writing projects, and if you haven’t figured out by now, those kinds of things are my FAVORITE. I spent from January to April working on a college-style paper about how fantasy literature reflects the Gospel, and as such, we need to read it. I’m such a geek.

This passion for longing-filled literature can be considered an example of “sehnsucht,” a word coined by C.S. Lewis. This sehnsucht feeling stems from the knowledge that life is hard. Yet, during earthly pain, we are driven by the knowledge that while we wait, we can look for God in life’s little things, such as art or writing. We must read the fantasy genre because the truth that rings out in the pages drives hearts to pursue God

A snippet of my paper, Christ-Inspired Fantasy

But in this time, I was able to deep-dive into the creative nature of life to which God has called me.

I think the furious roar inside of our minds that is created when we need to focus on something creative is ironic. I believe that the Enemy is the master of lies, and it is no coincidence when I suddenly can’t focus on this task that I know God is directing me to do. The whisper in my ears, telling me that I am never going to be understood, is honey that has gone sour. It may taste good to feel sad, but I will be sick for hours after.

I’ve noticed that because I enjoy feeling things intensely, it is really easy for the Enemy to take me under and immobilize me. He waves lies in front of my face, and because I am open to feeling sad or misunderstood, I take the bait and waste my entire afternoon being wistfully melancholy. The pull to believe I am no good at writing or at music is strong.

And yet, the pull to the Light is far stronger.

The word I have held close this past few months has been “focus.” In reality, this entire issue boils down to focus. Who/what am I going to listen to? Which opinion am I going to let into my heart?

I repeat “Lord, focus me” several times throughout my day, because I know Who holds everything. God is my rock. I choose not to place my creativity in the hands of a Liar. He has no power in my life anymore. There is nothing that can be done that will move me from the solid belief that my Abba God is for me.

He alone is the source of my thoughts and wonderings. He is my muse if you will. (that is a bad analogy but stay with me…) I pray often that each word I write is spoken from His mouth into my heart first. I don’t want one thing that will be out of line. I don’t want to stray from His wonderful path.

Whether or not I feel scattered is not the issue. This is a chance to grow closer to Him. When I press in, even when I don’t feel like it, even when it takes everything in me, I know that He is filling me up to the brim. He is filling me with His words.

I don’t have to worry about having the words to say what I think. God is my provider. Jehovah-Jireh, or the God who provides, is holding me up and is using me as His vessel.

I am so glad that I don’t have to fend for myself in this battle. My God fought it for me and won. He is my Way Maker.

No matter how I feel, I know that He is for me, and that the words come if I ask Him. There have been countless times where I can’t come up with anything for a blog post. It’s horrifying to be sitting at a computer the day before your post is scheduled to go up, knowing that you have literally zero ideas.

“Jesus, what do I write about? What do you want to say?”

I hate to be statistic-y, but oftentimes those posts have done the best, both in views and the viewers’ interaction. It is crazy to run this blog because I feel so intensely that it isn’t my work. Well, I mean it is, but like all of these posts have been God-breathed to some degree, because honestly Maddy has no idea wHAT she is doing. 😉

He provides so graciously. He makes a way where there is no way. He parts the seas and makes streams in the desert. He is a good, good father.

love you all! keep washing your hands! ❤

~m