This is something I wrote on August 3, 2009.  I wrote this a few weeks after visiting Kenya, Africa and right after volunteering at a camp called Angel Tree Camp, a place where children whose parents are in prison can relax and have fun.  I came across this piece of writing again the other day and thought I would share it on this blog.

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"I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please.  Not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep, but just enough to equal a cup of warm milk or a snooze in the sunshine.  I don't want enough of God to make me love a black man or pick beets with a migrant.  I want ecstasy, not transformation.  I want warmth of the womb, not a new birth.  I want a pound of the Eternal in a paper sack.  I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please."  -Wilbur Rees

Isn't that what we all want?  Just enough of God to make us feel good, but not enough to break our hearts?

This summer has been exactly the opposite for me.

I've seen enough of God this summer for my heart to be broken again and again.  I have been shattered into a thousand pieces, restored, and shattered again, and yet I feel like this is something that God has been planning for me to experience over these past three months.

Seeing the street boy sin the cities of Kenya, high on glue, unable to walk straight.

The little children in the slums, shrieking with excitement over a little piece of candy.

Students, who are even sponsored, but don't have shoes that fit right... and yet they would absolutely call themselves blessed.  You know why?  Because their neighbors don't have any shoes at all.

Children sticking their scrawny arms through the gates of the school, watching the students eat lunch, wishing in vain for the education they will not have.  For a future that is not to be.

People who have NOTHING, who are STARVING, and yet want to give what they have to those who have less... or more, in my case.

A little girl at Angel Tree Camp, sobbing into my shoulder because she is so ashamed of the sexual abuse she has suffered at the hands of her own father.

Children praying over lit candles for their loved ones who have hurt them, setting the candles on a cross, and letting them float into the middle of the pond, shining through the darkness.

"We get THREE good meals a day here?  I've never had so many meals in one day in my whole life!"

A balloon pops and a girl screams out in a sudden burst of panic, thinking someone is shooting in the cabin... just like they do in her backyard.
 
Kids who live in MY town who have never had a pillow... pajamas... a tooth brush... underwear... a Bible... a father... a hug.

How are you supposed to take this and remain whole?  When little children are hurting, being hurt, enduring pain with silence that screams louder than sound, how can my heart not break into pieces?

But how can I ask for a mere $3 worth of God?  How can I not open my eyes to see the TRUTH?  I don't want to be blinded to the problems until things change.  And they still have a long ways to go.

I'm throwing away that tiny paper sack.  I'd like to buy a million gallon tank that's wide open for everything God has in store for me. 

Open my eyes, Lord.
Let me see the truth.
Let me see the pain.
And let me see the goodness too.
Restore me.  Transform me.  Break me.  Delight me.
I want to see it all.

Instead of a book review today, I decided to post something that has bothered me for a while now.

I want people to like me.

That's just the truth.  I want to be liked. 

Do I usually rebel against conformity?  Sure.  I often don't dress like everyone else on purpose.  I am quiet when others are loud.  I listen to my own style of music.  I value originality.  Even though I like to be unique, I desperately want to be liked.  If I'm not liked by someone, I'm bothered.  A lot.

Sometimes my struggle to be liked can be my downfall of sorts.  I often try to please everyone and end up ignoring my own needs.  Sometimes I focus on pleasing others instead of God.  Trying so hard to be liked can end up making me doubt myself as well.  I'm generally a confident person.  However, if someone dislikes me, I can quickly shut down and doubt myself. 

I'll make up an example off the top of my head.  Let's say I'm trying to reach out to some younger girls and I overhear someone say, "Emily acts so fake.  I can't believe she's pretending to like us."  I might immediately question my actions and words, asking myself and my close friends if that's how I appear.  If I feel disliked enough, I might even throw up my hands and walk away.  I think to myself, "It's not worth it.  I'm obviously bad at this.  Bah.  I give up.  Find someone else to minister to these girls, God.  I don't want to do this anymore." 

Giving up is never a part of God's plan.  When I give up, I fail. 

I hate the feeling of failure.  Don't you?

The other day, I overheard some girls at school talking about me behind my back.  I haven't been through an experience like that since eighth grade!  To be honest, their words weren't that mean.  They were mocking a leadership role I've taken at school and the way I spoke to a group of kids.  It was obvious by what they were saying that they didn't like me all that much.  At first, I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.  A thousand horrified thoughts flew through my head all at once.  "They don't like me.  I've failed.  I've ruined this leadership role.  I've failed at being liked at school.  I'm such a failure.  How can God even use me at all?"  For a split second, I wanted to forget being any kind of a leader, withdraw into my shy shell, and not talk to anyone ever again.  I mean, they didn't like me.  After a few moments of self-pity, I realized how silly I was acting.

Is my life defined by what those girls think of me?  Am I not a leader anymore because of the things those girls were saying?  Does God not still love me?  Has the purpose He gave me at my school been turned into nothing?  Of course not. 

People are going to dislike me sometimes because of who I am and Who I stand for, and I'm going to have to learn to deal with that, as hard as it can be.  Jesus had haters.  People murdered Him and gambled away His clothes, for crying out loud.  His disciples were all persecuted and most were even killed. 

Even though it might sting to face meanness and dislike from others, I cannot allow my hurt feelings to get in the way of what God has planned for my life.  He wants me to be a leader at my school, whether or not some kids make fun of me behind my back.  He wants me to stand up and make friends with people I don't know, even if I'll face rejection sometimes. 

God's opinion is what matters in the long run.  I just need to please Him.  Everyone else is secondary.

I've given up many times after facing dislike from others.  I've failed.  I've let down the God who gave me life.  I don't want to give up anymore.  I don't want to care so much about what other people think of me that I'll give up on plans God has for me in order to keep everyone happy.  That isn't what He wants.  I'm so thankful that God loves me enough to give me an unlimited number of second chances. 

I want people to like me.  That will never change.  If I had my way, then everyone would like each other, even though I know that's unrealistic.  I'll continue to be nice to people and smile (I am Emily is Smiling, after all).  However, I know I will not always be liked.  I don't deserve to be liked by everyone, if I'm honest with myself. 

For now, I guess I'm satisfied with the fact that Jesus Christ likes me so much, He thinks I'm to die for.