Posted in General Posts by Ashlee Walworth on 4/11/2012
"Why are you wasting your life?"
This question changed my entire life instantly.
It was three years ago, I was walking back to my dorm late at night, and ran into my dear friend Mohon. We stopped and began chatting. I asked about his summer and did the general catch up thing that every college student goes through. His answer revolved a lot around the Lord and I was cool with that, but I couldn't have cared less. When he asked me, "How was your summer? How has the Lord been working in your life lately?," I laughed in his face.
He hadn't.
For the months or longer before this conversation was taking place I had totally ignored the Lord.
I had no interest in hearing Him, learning from/about Him, or worshipping Him.
My life was empty.
Numb.
As I was explaining this to Mohon I said things like "no, I know, it sounds bad...." and "yeah, I will get back into it eventually, it just doesn't really feel like it means anything anymore," and "I mean, I have been a Christian for a long time. Everyone goes through dry spells, right? I will be fine. No worries."
I thought that was a sufficient enough answer.
I wanted the conversation to be over.
Mohon looks me straight in the face with sincerity, authority, and a little bit of anger:
"Why are you WASTING your life?"
I was stunned.
What do you mean wasting it?! I am FINE! I am happy. I am in control! You don't know anything about me! How dare you criticize my life or my faith? I will get back to the Lord eventually, I always do...
and then, it hit me.
I WAS WASTING MY LIFE.
I went back to my dorm that night broken, mad, hurt, and most of all... AWARE.
I began writing in my journal for the first time in months. At 2:56 AM on August 30th, I wrote "... I hope that soon I will be able to come to you with arms high and heart abandoned but for now, my heart remains guarded. I am working on it. Amen."
And that was it. That night forever changed my life and set my life on a path of beauty, brokenness, and surrender. So I ask you, my dutiful readers...
Why are you WASTING your life?
I am not asking in a preachy way at all and neither was he that night. I am asking because at some point it must become real to you that it is NOT your life in the first place. We were created to bring Him glory. That's it. "Whatever you do whether in word or deed, do so unto the Lord." That is it people. The mark upon which all of our decisions, words, thoughts and actions must be set against.
That night led me to where I am now. It led me to The World Race.
A lot of people have asked me to write a blog explaining what the World Race is, for you folks, here it is.
The World Race is a global mission trip. The baseline of it is that I will be backpacking (tent, backpack, sleeping bag and all) around 11 countries over 11 months. It is through an organization out of Georgia (not the SBC or the NAMB.) called Adventures in Missions and it promises to be exactly that- an adventure. I will train with a squad of about 60-70 and then I will have a team of about 6-8 that will be with me at all times. Boys and girls alike (the horror!)
The total cost (all inclusive, basically) will be around 15,500 dollars. Yes, as in fifteen thousand and five hundred one dollar bills. Quite the undertaking. Totally worth it.
Now comes the confusing part...
When I first knew that I wanted to do this, I was ready to go immediately, signed up for the soonest route I was able to and just went for it.
no.
OK, so, I then signed up for this upcoming July, just picked a route, went with it. I was ready to go!!
no.
OOOh, so you want me to go later?? ahhh gotcha? well, January sounds nice. That is a year away. More time...got it!
NO.
I must be clear: I am still going on this trip. That I do know. The fuzzy part has become the question of "when?"
For now, I am a "floater" in the AIM system. I have no route picked (next July's come out later this year) and I know that makes some people weary of sending in donations. However, if you want to give PLEASE PLEASE do. 15 grand isn't exactly chump change and I am DEFINITELY still raising money. The beauty of not being "committed" to a route while still being committed to The Race is that I have the unbelievably blessed opportunity to raise this money basically stress free. SO, GO FOR IT!! There is a little link under my picture that will guide you to give me all of your life savings whatever you can.
In all seriousness, I know this blog was choppy, poorly written, and packed with content (some random, some helpful). I wanted you all to see this side of missions though. It isn't always cookie cutter trips that allow you to go in and out of a country for a week knowing exactly when you will be going, where you will be sent, and how it is all going to happen. I am learning that as the Lord molds this plan for me that I have the unbelievable opportunity to literally depend on Him for every single tiny little answer within it.
So, dear friends, loved ones, and complete strangers, join me in this journey.
Pray.
Love.
Donate.
Feel free to ask me questions and most of all... STOP wasting your life.
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Posted in General Posts by Ashlee Walworth on 3/1/2012
I wasted college.
Not in the typical way you are thinking with drinking and promiscuity, although, there was some of that too. I mean it more in the sense that I refused to let the Lord be a part of most of it.
Take a journey with me...
I hated my college after I broke up with that guy freshman year. Part of the repercussions of being the "it couple" on campus is that once it is over, everyone has to choose a side. Most people were nice about it, but I still felt like I got the short end for sure.
I was bitter.
I was lonely.
I was outrageously angry.
I wanted to transfer. Badly.
I came very very close ...twice.
However, even in my darkness, I heard a voice, let's call it Hope, and Hope said very very quietly... "wait, be patient. just, wait." WAIT?? why?? There is nothing for me here, Hope! All of my friends are gone, I almost failed out, and my life is a literal shell of a girl that used to be happy.
I DO NOT WANT THIS!!
Screw you, Hope. I am done. I am out!
...I stayed.
Angry, bitter, lonely, broken- I stayed.
I complained, cried, and waited.
I grasped for help, I was desperate for peace, but I waited, albeit impatiently, I stayed.
This period was one of the worst in my life. I can remember one night distinctly. It was sophomore year and I didn't have a roommate and was about to go to bed when I heard my ex outside of the door saying good night to the two girls who were my absolute best friends before all of this. I LOST IT. I am talking middle of my floor full body heaves Grey's Anatomy type sobbing. My life was wrecked. I was trying to go about it alone and I was attempting to fill the void that I had shoved Christ out of.
As I am crying while I write this, it is very, very hard to put into words what this time in my life actually felt like. I was so hurt. I was so angry. I was so lost. I kept hearing Hope talk to me, but I kept ignoring it because I mean really?! what could possibly make this better?
It was then, in the darkness that He began to call to me. "My daughter, my beautiful child, I am begging you to give me your burdens. I desperately long for you to take my yoke. Take my burdens and have me take yours. Please, beloved, follow me out of this. Take my hand. Allow me to replace your heart of stone." I fought and fought and fought... I think, if I am honest with myself, I was still fighting even up until the past year or so.
I just didn't feel like I was worthy of rescue.
When I realized this, I stopped dead in my tracks. Wait, He DIED for my rescue. He LONGS for me. He PRAYS for me. This destroys me in the most beautiful way.
In Deuteronomy chapter 30, it says "Even if you have been banished to the most distant land under the heavens, FROM THERE the Lord your God will gather you and bring you back." HOLY CRAP!! Say what??!! It goes on to say "Now what I am commanding you today is not too difficult for you, or beyond your reach. It is not up in heaven so that you have to ask, "Who will ascend into heaven to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?" Nor is it beyond the sea, so that you have to ask, "Who will cross the sea to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?" No, the Word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart so you may obey it."
Mind. Blown.
So, what this is trying to tell me is that Hope was right!? I truly am being pursued by the love of Christ!? Even in the darkest place I could ever go!!?? That doesn't seem right, that doesn't seem fair!
Therein lies the most beautiful paradox I could ever imagine: Christ LOVES his children and there is NOTHING we can do to make him love us less. Romans tell us that "while we were still sinners, Christ DIED for us." Not after, WHILE. Absolutely heartbreakingly awesome and beautiful.
I am being restored and renewed by his mercy and love what feels like every single second lately. I am repeatedly begging Psalm 90:14 "Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad ALL OUR DAYS."
(P.S. the Lord has restored both of the relationships with those girls. So, His healing TRULY covers all things.)
May Hope call into the depths of your life and may the spirit of the Lord be upon you to give you the strength to listen AND run hard after Him instead of away from His mercies.
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Posted in General Posts by Ashlee Walworth on 2/12/2012
I reblogged myself from last year. It happens.
When I was 12, my best friend was 19 and a sophomore in college.
Her name was Ryann and our favorite thing to do was take afternoon drives. We are no longer in touch, which breaks my heart, but those backroad adventures shaped so much of my life. It was glorious and is still one of my favorite things to do.
During these times, she would introduce me to music such as Weezer and Five Iron Frenzy.
Five Iron Frenzy had a song called "Dandelions."
It says this:
In a field of yellow flowers,
underneath the sun,
bluest eyes that spark with lightning,
boy with shoes undone.
He is young, so full of hope,
reveling in tiny dreams,
filling up, his arms with flowers,
right for giving any queen.
Running to her beaming bright,
while cradling his prize.
A flickering of yellow light,
within his mother's eyes.
She holds them to her heart,
keeping them where they'll be safe,
clasped within her very marrow,
dandelions in a vase.
She sees love, where anyone else would see weeds.
all hope is found.
Here is everything he needs.
Fathomless your endless mercy,
weight I could not lift.
Where do I fit in this puzzle,
what good are these gifts?
Not a martyr, or a saint,
scarcely can I struggle through.
All that I have ever wanted,
was to give my best to you.
Lord, search my heart,
create in me something clean.
Dandelions
you see flowers in these weeds.
Gently lifting hands to heaven,
softened by the sweetest hush,
a Father sings over his children,
loving them so very much.
More than words could warrant,
deeper than the darkest blue,
more than sacrifice could merit,
Lord, I give my heart to you.
I am a wild flower, I always have been and I am guessing that this trait is not going away anytime soon. What I love about being a wild flower is that while everyone else sees them as weeds, the Lord sees them as Dandelions.
I mess up, a lot.
I wake up in the morning and beg the Lord out of desperation to guide me with every word, step, and thought so that I may bring glory and fame to the name of Jesus.
Then, I get out of bed, and the whole thing crumbles.
I truly need Him every moment, and my heart breaks a little every time I realize missed opportunities to share His love and mercy with people. However, He has promised to never leave me nor forsake me, so I am going to cling to that because my life depends on it.
I sometimes wonder what my life would be like if I had faith to believe in all of the promises that the Lord gives to all of us.
Promises like being a faithful servant, healing being in His hands, and saving all of myself until marriage.
Promises that there are in fact men out there who serve and know the Lord with gladness instead of trepidation.
I do not have faith like this.
Instead, for twenty- two years, I have wallowed in the thought that for some reason, I am just not meant to have these things. When I mess up, I brush it off, and when I get hurt, I count it off with the self- destructive thought of "well, at least I am being paid attention to at all."
How I wish that I could go to my 16 year old self and punch her in the mouth, shake her and say "SHEMA!" Watch out! I sometimes think about how my life would be different if I wouldn't have made the decisions that I did. While it would have been much, much more boring, I am also certain that I would not have the same friends, faith, or happiness.
While my life may be unconventional, unpredictable, and unworthy, I pray that I might always be unashamed to share about the One who brought me out of and into where I am now.
Advice of the day: Be a Dandelion in a world full of weeds.
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Posted in General Posts by Ashlee Walworth on 2/7/2012
This is a re-blog of a re-post of a blog written by "Jamie, the very worst missionary".
She's a woman who blogs and writes, straight up about real life stuff.
There's some pretty good truth packed into this blog. As most of you don't know yet, almost all of my friends are men. This is for them. Enjoy, and LISTEN...dudes.
Guard your heart, bro.
Once upon a time, we took a short line from the Bible and we turned it into a life song for girls. We slapped it on silver promise rings and we stamped it on rubber bracelets. We emblazoned it on fitted v-neck T's, engraved it in hinged lockets, and chickified it in every way imaginable. Then we developed flowery, heart themed girls-retreats around it to ensure that our daughters would embrace it.
"Above all else, guard your heart..."
Proverbs 4:23
We admonish our girls to guard their hearts, and we warn them about "giving away pieces of their heart" in the form of every kind of love to the unworthy slobs they hang out with after school. Then we wind their "heart" up with their virginity so tight it becomes a two-fer-one deal - in the process of guarding their hearts, we end up guarding organs south of border. It's a pretty brilliant plan, when you think about it.
Oh, and we train our boys, too, but not to guard their heart. To our boys we say,"For the love of God, avert your eyes and keep your johnson in your pants."
I'm, like, kind of an authority on guys because I have a husband who is a guy, and I have lot of friends who are guys, and, also, I have a bunch of kids who are all guys. So yeah, listen to me when I say that it turns out guys really don't talk about their hearts that much. In fact, most of the guys I know don't talk about their heart at all. And I'm guessing 90% have never, ever been told to guard their heart. Probably because everybody knows that's totally a chick thing to do.
As the mother of 2.8 teenage sons, I win the awkward award for trying to engage dudes in these conversations. When I start talking about heart stuff, the eye rolling gets so intense it blows my hair back. This makes me nervous, so I do that thing where you try way too hard to be hip and relatable and end up saying stupid crap, like, "The Bible says you need to guard your heart... dawg." And then my kids shake their heads, "No, Mom... Just, no." So then I say something even more idiotic, like, "I'm just bein' straight wichyou. My boy, Solomon, was, like, the wisest brother to ever walk the planet and it's his advice, not mine, Bro." And then, naturally, one of them will point out that they are, in fact, not my "bro".
It's all very embarrassing. And worthwhile.
I don't think that our men are reminded often enough that they need to guard their hearts.
We teach them to guard their eyes, but I want my sons to know and understand that what porn does to their eyes isn't what will break them, it's what it does to their heart that will eventually leave them empty and hurting.
And we teach our men to guard their junk, to keep it in their pants, but I want my sons to know and understand that what promiscuity does to their loins isn't what will break them (although herpes is no cakewalk), it's what it does to their heart that will leave them lonely and aching for more.
I want my kids to get it when I tell them that the greatest thing they can bring into marriage will be their own well-guarded heart. A heart that, for all of its years and to the best of its ability, has borne the wisdom of Solomon; "For they are life to those who find them and health to a man's whole body."
When I look around the church, when I talk amongst my friends, when I peek into the world - I see men who are broken and hurting, men tied to their addictions, men out of control, men drowning in lust, so many men longing for peace and grace and mercy, and in desperate need of restoration for their tattered and broken hearts. Hearts that have gone unguarded for far too long. And I want to break this verse like an alabaster jar over their brows. I want to pour out the perfume of Redemption on their lives. I want to release the words of Solomon to his sons, that they may be free to take up their spears and stand guard over their own hearts, because their hearts are worthy of the effort.... above all else....
"Above all else, guard your heart,
for it is the wellspring of life."
...above all else..... above all else.... above all else..... guard your heart, Bro.
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Posted in General Posts by Ashlee Walworth on 2/2/2012
Over the past few days, I have been learning an overwhelming amount of information about the Lord. He is gracious and good. He is forgiving and loving. Most importantly, he is LORD.
I have been reading "Bittersweet" by Shauna Newquist over the past few days, and within a chapter about a season of loneliness, she wrote "... life was sort of blank during that season: snowy and dim and the kind of bad quiet- the kind where you feel that everyone you know is attending a party you weren't even invited to." This line hit me like a punch in the face. Why? Allow me to explain.
Growing up I was not the most attractive of individuals. In fact, I was a downright ugly duckling for the entirety of my elementary- high school years. People, no eye rolling please. I mean it, childhood was very very little fun for me. A few examples may help...
When I was in third grade, a guy that was much older than me began calling me "Buck Worthless" (my teeth were AWFUL, I'll give 'em that) and it caught on like wildfire. I was Buck, behind my back of course...we were all good southerners you know!, for the rest of my years in that town. I was harassed verbally what seemed like every day from second to tenth grade. Specifically, parties became an extreme issue. I had one birthday party over the course of these ten-ish years. A beanie baby party. We ate pizza and went swimming afterwards. Everyone came. Everyone seemed to be having fun! I was so excited!
...then, we went swimming. Out of the ear shot of the mothers, the girls could finally tell me what they thought of me and my party. "we hate you." "our moms made us come" "i can't wait to leave" "i hope you never have another party" etc. So, I didn't throw another party ever again in that town.
Another example, I went to the mall with my mother and Nana one week before a big birthday party one weekend, and my Nana bought me these white, gorgeous, and super expensive pair of tie up Steve Madden wedges. I had never had a pair of shoes like that and I was so excited to show them off! During the party, my best friend at the time (I don't have a very good track record with these..that blog will come in the future) asked to see my new shoes. I told her "sure!" I was then thrown promptly into the pool with all of my clothes on. I got out of the pool and charged the guy who did it (I should probably mention that I was fiery AND outgoing even back then and through all of the stuff. This did nothing but enhance the mockery.)
Anyway, so I charged him, and broke my nose (but chipped his tooth, I am not going to lie, the little blue scar on the right side of my nose is one of my favorites.) They always say that standing up for yourself is the way to make it stop. Well, those people had CLEARLY never lived in Marion, Alabama.
I get all dried off, and go back to join the party, and my shoes are nowhere to be found. I look everywhere and then go inside to look there. When I came back out, there they were sitting on the table COVERED in Alabama Clay. Now, if you are not from the south, let me fill you in on something we like to call "red clay." Each state lays claim to it, but no matter it's origin, the stuff is FAMOUS for it's ability to stain and never come out leaving whatever it touches with a light mahogany hue. SO, my brand new, first expensive, bright white shoes were completely ruined. I was devastated.
Keep in mind these are only two stories out of HUNDREDS. Don't even get me started on the "special ashlee play rooms" that I was designated to while everyone else played somewhere else. Yeah, that trend was not fun.
When I asked them why they did this to me and my shoes, someone answered up "You were never supposed to be invited in the first place. We don't want you here"
I was never supposed to be there. No one wanted me.
How often have I passed over the beauty of the gospel parallels within my life?! As cliché as it may be, CHRIST WANTED ME. Forever, always, He saw me and loved me, and will never stop.
How quickly I forget! I allow sin and Satan to run all over my life because I "can't help it" or worse, I am just used to it. I was "having a form of godliness, but denying it's power." (II Timothy 3:5)
No more. Through a recent conversation, I realized that by living the life I have been and by doing the things I have been, I am rubbing my witness, testimony, and view of the Cross all in red clay when Christ saw me up on that cross and said, "I know EXACTLY who, what, and how you are my precious, darling, spotless daughter. I still choose you."
So, here is my declaration: I will no longer succumb to the red clay. Getting it off is a process, but the beauty in it all is that the One who has the ability to remove it all is jealous for every bit of me. I have a hardened, stubborn heart by nature, but beauty of this breaks me in the most releasing way.
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Posted in General Posts by Ashlee Walworth on 1/28/2012
There is the saying: Too much of a good thing means it is probably too good to be true in the first place. Welcome to the Josh* and Ashlee show. I am not sure I have ever written down, or even told the full story. I am fascinated by how much the mind can make the heart put up with. If you commit to something fully enough, you can completely convince yourself that things are going to get better and that they are only temporarily out of order.
I was in an abusive relationship for almost two years. We were completely toxic for each other. I met him a month before I turned 16 and we dated until January of my Freshman year. I was with my friend Amber at a gas station where her friend Jason worked, and Josh just showed up and that was it. I was a goner. I thought that at 16 I had it all figured out. I was going to marry this boy. So, when the jealousy and the anger started showing up, I recompartmentalized it as "emotion" and "love." This allowed me to not use the words "abuse" and "problems" until well after we had broken up. It started small. Checking my phone, little fights, a few more text messages than usual, but "nothing I couldn't handle. I was smart." He was older by two and a half years, wasn't in school, and had questionable morals, so I hid it from my parents. I would go over to Amber's house just like every other day and weekend, and there he would be. I was so smart. I had it all under control.
My parents started looking at my phone bill and picked out Josh's number which was all over it, when they asked me who the number was, I told them he was just a friend of mine, "no big deal." My mother started asking about him around town because at the time we were still the new family there. His reputation was abhorable. So, on the night of my sixteenth birthday (June 14th, 2006), she confronted me at my party, took my phone, and demanded I break up with him. Of course, I told her I would. I lied. I was smart, I was in control. We told every person in town that we knew that we were broken up. The only people who knew were his best friends Rusty and Cristal and mine Amber. That's it. We continued seeing each other at Amber's all through the summer and into the fall. I thought I was good at hiding it, but I have since learned that my parents are wonderful wonderful people, who knew, or suspected, but allowed me to be an adolescent. I am very thankful for this...kind of.
In July we broke up briefly because I was tired of lying to my parents. He moved back home to prove to me that he could get his life straight and we started dating again less than a month later, still lying to my parents. In november, I really did feel terrible about lying so I broke up with him "for good." I was smart. I was in control. On New Years Eve, I was staying with my best friend Elizabeth and called my mother at around 2 in the morning and told her that I was in love with him. That he had cleaned himself up and that I wanted them to meet him. They agreed to consider it and on Jan. 8th, he came over to the house to watch the National Championship game with us. That was it. They were hooked on his charm as well, and we were inseperable.
The obsessiveness began to show more intensely then. He would check my phone, often. I rarely left my phone around, but every time I did, he would check it. This comes in to play later. Around April, I had just declared that I was going to Mississippi College, and he had gone on the tour with me. As we are sitting in the living room one night, he begins discussing the distances between the colleges that he had been looking at
(Alabama, Miss. State, Auburn, etc.) and where I was going to be in the fall. Overhearing this, my mother asked him what he had made on the ACT when he had taken it. When he said that he had the same score as I did, the plans set into motion for him to come to school with me.
We moved in a day before his birthday in August of 2007. We. were. "that" couple. Always together, everyone knew us. I was loud, he was shy, I pushed him into things (Civitan) he pulled me out of things (friendships). I was smart. I was in control. I was able to keep the fighting to ourselves for a few weeks, but after that, it became obvious. He would yell at me anywhere, about anything (or any one), at any time. I was told who to acceptably talk to, I was told why I hugged people inappropriately (basically I was only allowed to side hug), I was told why he didn't trust me. I was told I would never be loved by any one as much as he loved me, I was told that we were going to get married (August after our graduation, which if you're keeping tabs would have been August of last year. ...terrifying.) I was told that if we ever broke up he would kill himself (i believed him.) and I was told that we needed to stop going to church because "all i did was check out other guys there." He would call me 10-15 times in the early early hours of the morning and when he couldn't get in touch with me, he would call my roommate, when she wouldn't answer, he would begin calling anyone he knew on our hall until one of them came to knock on my door to go down and see him.
Needless to say, I was an idiot. I thought that that was what "love" was. I began to believe that if he was obsessing over me, at least he wasn't with any one else! What devotion! What commitment. I was smart. I was in control...
An addendum must be made to this tale: I became (or always was... again, toxic) a horrible girlfriend back at him. It got to the point where I was no longer sure who was being abused and who was the abuser. I think that this is the saddest part of everything that happened. It got so debillitating that I began to lash out. I cheated, I lied, I yelled at him right back. It was an ugly, nasty scene and an even uglier, nastier breakup. I am certain that the affects of what I did back to him were terrible too, and for that I am saddened. I think that towards the final months, everything snowballed towards a terrible, horrible, no good, massively destructive end.
It has taken me three years, but this is the first time I have ever shared this story publicly and the reason I choose to do so now is this: I now know love. I knew Christ then. I did. I will share my testimony on here soon I am sure, so that wasn't it. However, now, at the tender age of 22, I get why I had to go through all of that. I now hear the stories from girls who had been abused and COMPLETELY empathize with them. No, I was never physically struck, but I whole-heartedly believe that given time, it was inevitable. I needed to share this as an act of healing, for me, and for the girl (or guy) reading this who feels like "crazy obsession" is normal. It is not.
There is freedom available. There is joy available. There is real love available. Grab on to it. Take heart for the Lord has already overcome all of the obstacles in your life and in mine (shockingly enough, there are a lot more stories I have yet to tell.) God's plans are so much smarter than ours could ever dream of being. HE IS IN CONTROL.
"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Romans 5:8
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Posted in General Posts by Ashlee Walworth on 1/25/2012
Five years ago, I had my entire life planned out.
At this time, five years ago, I thought I would be celebrating two months of marriage to Brian, starting my second semester of graduate school (in music, of course), and enjoying a nice, quiet, non-eventful, unchallenged life.
Praise Him from whom all blessings flow.
Today, I am 22, single, receiver of a Bachelor's degree (in English Literature.), and I am in the middle of a beautiful, loud, gut-checking, soul searching journey with the Lord.
Sometimes, I feel terrible when I begin to question the Lord. Having been in church my entire life, I have always heard "just trust Him. He will make a way. Just be still and listen to His voice, it'll come."
I was never good at this.
I am still not.
However, recently, I have been simultaneously reading several different parts of the bible a day.
I have come to one unalterable conclusion: everyone else is a hot mess too.
Let's take the Psalms for example. You read one and it is the most beautiful, uplifting, incredible song lifting up the praises and goodness of the Lord. I used to read them and think "Man, if I am going to be a writer, I need to lower my standards, because there is NO way I will ever be near enough to the Lord to write something so beautiful and mean it."
Then, like a breath of fresh air, I have recently been paying more attention to the big picture. If close attention is paid, one is able to see that most of the immediate next psalms are ones of lament, unrest, and desperation. PRAISE THE LAMB. It isn't just me!
All throughout, I have been noticing this trend in the bible. Just recently I was reading the account of Jesus feeding the five thousand and what struck me is that immediately after he fed FIVE THOUSAND people with a menial amount of supplies, the DISCIPLES became "terrified" when he walked across the water to their boat. Let's not even start with the whole falling ASLEEP in the garden episode... The point is, even his closest followers slipped, and questioned, and kept on seeking.
I say all of that to say this, if the Lord has been faithful through every single second and moment of my life, who am I to question his voice as I hear it now?!
In the middle of my little storm of a life, he has made his will and voice clear.
The World Race is exactly what he has for me.
I did not misjudge that, of this I am sure.
However, my timing was about 14 months off.
Deep down to my very bones, I can tell that July is not the right time for me to go. It is not out of fear, or disbelief towards July, for I know that He would provide were it his plan. Rather it is out of joy, and jubilation for January that my heart has begun to sing His praise and brilliance.
I do not know what the routes are for January. I have no idea what I am going to do with my life for the next year. I have no idea whether AIM is even going to be on board for this major shift and change. However, I have no doubt about the peace within me and the assurance given to those who have been in prayer for me.
So, dear friends, please join me: in praying for the money and the preparation, praising the unknown, and blessing the One who guides this crazy path I am on.
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Posted in General Posts by Ashlee Walworth on 1/18/2012
I know that I have skipped my intro blog, but before you know anything about me, it must be made known: this was not my plan.
I wanted, craved, and begged the Lord for a normal life with a home, a hot husband that leads me in the ways of Truth, and beautiful little babies to raise. I wanted to go my entire life without being pushed, stretched, or challenged. I wanted to complain about the world not having enough love, action, and hope; but, that doesn't mean I wanted to be the one to do anything about it.
I do not want to camp.
I do not want to have to learn to like rice.
I do not want to be dirty, smelly, and "happy" about it.
I do not want to carry my life in a backpack for a year.
I do not want to get bitten by mosquitoes that could kill me.
I do not want to talk with people of other religions who have no interest in my Jesus.
I do not want to encounter spiders. Ever. at all.
I do not want to obey the Lord.
The World Race is terrifying to me. I have no idea where other people have mustered up all this excitement in their blogs. I read the entries of my Squad mates and think they are absolutely out of their minds. All these goings on about "trust" and "favor" and "can't wait"-ing. I don't have that.
I see FIFTEEN THOUSAND dollars and almost pass out.
I hear that "bird spiders" and "tarantulas" are common and literally would rather die.
I have to carry WHAT?! in and on my backpack? (my home.)
This whole process scares me.
I have been trying to drop out of the trip for about a month now. Either TWR misses my call or I miss theirs, I see my sweet backpack, some "moment" with the Lord reminds me that his voice was very clear when he revealed the Race to me (thank you, Sarah.), or most of all, I hear the Lord.
I am reminded often that nothing is by chance.
My life is an awesome testament to the phrase "it's a small, small world," full of memoir filling anecdotes and crazy "no way!" moments; even how I learned about the Race is one of them. (Thanks, A.C.)
But, I don't care.
I still desire to be stubborn.
I desire to drop out, call it quits, and never think about it again.
Oh, sweet Savior, help my unbelief!
I am scared. I am so scared of all of this: the money, my health conditions in the middle of the world with not-so-great health benefits, the money, what my life would be like when I came back, being cult-ish, the money, failing, dying, failing at raising the money.
ALL OF IT.
However, one thing remains: Jesus said, "Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out demons: freely you have received, freely you give."
As you follow my blog, it is probably not going to have the same intone as the rest of TWR blogs you have read. For that I refuse to apologize. Mainly, the reason is because if I am going to do this, really, truly do this, I have to go all in. I must show that following the Lord's will is absolutely bone-crushingly terrifying at times.
Please pray for me. I mean really, deeply pray for me. Whether you are a friend, loved one, or complete stranger; I am asking you to jump in with me.
Pray for confidence to boldly walk into this mission.
Pray for comfort.
Major MAJOR comfort for me, yes, but mostly my parents. They are more scared than I am and incase you haven't noticed... that is quite a bit.
Pray for money, sincerely.
This is going to be the hardest thing I have ever done.
It already is.
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