Walmart, car starts and broken hearts.

Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust. Make me know the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.

PSALM 143:8

A psalm is a song, a hymn, a prayer or a poem. Or something along those lines (let's be honest I googled it.. trustworthy). 

And so, the Psalms in the Bible are filled with rejoicing, lament, beautiful verse, deep seeded sorrow; and what seems to be an uncountable and persistent praise for God. Like a pretzel, all rolled up into one. 

Right now, I feel like rejoicing in an uncountable and persistent praise of God, as well as weeping in deep seeded sorrow.

Call me a Psalmist. Maybe. Call me Maybe.

Let's not talk about last Friday. Okay, let's do.

In a matter of one day, I failed my driving test and found out I would have to wait a minimum of two extra weeks before I could start working. And not only did I fail my drivers test, but I absolutely flunked it. 

You had to get under 15 points to pass, and I got 32. For speeding. Twice. And turning into the wrong lane. And not flicking on my blinkers in an emergency stop.

I’ve been driving for six years, right?

At the beginning of the test I also was not able to open the door for the instructor, and so stood there for five minutes jiggling the key. And I also put my car into drive instead of reverse. Okay, so I was nervous. I also cried.

And then, I took my menu test. Passed! And found out I had to wait for social security to come in, in another two weeks.

14 days. A month of being in Omaha.

I literally have a mixed bag of life here, I don’t even know where to begin. With Walmart, because my goodness it’s a wonderful place.

This week has been a week of new experiences, some wonderful, some horrible.

For one, Alejandro my fish died. Devastating. I know.

But second, Nebraska weather is bipolar, it’ snowing one day and 30 degrees the next. It’s wearing-my-one-pair-of-jeans for five days straight kind of weather one week, and then a having to change part way through the day because of outrageous sweat marks (too much information? no) kind of day the next.

But really, like the weather, my week has been filled with so much good, and so much challenge.

Let’s start with the good? Bagels and cream cheese. Oh how I’ve missed you, bagels and cream cheese. So good. 

Also on the good, it’s been a trip of new experiences.

For example, Sunday night I went country swing dancing, just like this:

It was one of the greatest times of my entire life. It was seriously the funnest thing ever, and although I’m truly terrible, I’m also incredibly enthusiastic. And in my book enthusiasm trumps talent, so swing dancing wins.

It just reaffirms my deep love for all things cowboy, rodeo, boots and southern American accents. People say “ya’ll”, it’s awesome.

Speaking of people saying things, the word “roof” is hilarious in an American accent. And I am now adopting three phrases into my vocabulary:

1. Bless her heart (can also be applied to “bless his heart” (although less frequently))

2. Good night! (used in replacement of ‘oh my gosh!’ or ‘no way!’ or ‘are you kidding me?’ For example: “In Australia there are spiders as big as your hand”. “GOODNIGHT!”)

And finally,

3. “What’s his bucket” used in replace of “what’s his face” when trying to remember the name of somebody.

Oh America.

Yesterday I went to a bakery for dogs. There were cupcakes and treats, and all sorts of delicious things. Me and two new and incredibly attractive American friends literally stood in there for five minutes whispering amongst each other, “no you ask if they’re for dogs and for humans”. We didn’t ask. But either way you’re feeding your dog human food, or eating dog food yourself. It was ridiculous.

Transitioning from the ‘good’ to the ‘bad’ section of this bipolar post, here’s a happy medium. Both one of the best, and one of the worst experiences of my entire life.

They call it bikram yoga.

found this on the internet. it was not like this at all.

You know you’re in trouble when the instructor begins the class with directions to the toilet, for when you need to vomit.

Now although I used to be gymnast, I’m now about as flexible as a frozen pencil, and having never done yoga before – and jumping straight into an hour and a half class – it was a whole new experience. And let’s be honest, I wasn’t very good at it.

 The room was 45 degrees, with 50% humidity and we watched ourselves in the mirror, as we contorted, balanced, reached, stretched and did some very strange child-birth-esque breathing techniques.

Some of the regulars were all flipping their feet over the heads, and I had my knee to my chest as I tried to touch my toes. I have literally never sweat so much in my life, and during one exercise – where we had to reach around our knees and grab hold of them with our arms –I couldn’t hold on. To my own arms or hands. Why? Because they were dripping with sweat. I’m talking pools of it, cascading off my body like some disgusting waterfall, a mass of salty water on my mat. I made a new ocean. Creatures live there.

During the experience I felt like I was going to faint, and vomit, and fall asleep; all at the same time and at the end of the class it took forever to be able to get up off the floor and leave the room.

It was horrible. And it was awesome.

Going home and afterwards I felt… I can’t even describe the level of amazing. It was like all the bad had been extracted from my body and I felt good, and clean. And so dayum relaxed.

Which was good, because that afternoon I took my driving test. Again. And passed! With an amazing 2 points. I aced it.

Was am/ forever will remain SO excited. I can now legally drive my insured and licensed car! To places like Walmart. Life is good.

And you know why else life is good? My social security number came in yesterday. After four days. They said “two to six weeks” and it became four days. That’s awesome, thank you Jesus.

I’m going in to take my drinks test in a little bit.

10 points for independence.

And here we are, I guess it’s time for the bad.

Bad is probably not the right word, challenging would be better.

For last night I saw this movie:

It was challenging. I feel lazy and complacent in my attitude toward the human trafficking industry. .

I would highly recommend seeing the documentary. It was all about the issue of human trafficking and sexual abuse in the USA. 100 000 children per year. Trafficked within this country, from this country.

1 in 2 Americans will use food assistance at some point in their lives.

1 in 4 women are sexually abused.

I’m still trying to process it, and take it all in and figure out what my role is in all of this.

I’m reminded this world we live in is so fallen. There is so much hurt and so much devastation and sometimes it’s so overwhelming.

I am the canvas not the artist, I need to be reminded of that. It’s about faithfulness and not greatness, I need to start pursuing that.

God showed me something kind of neat this week. {kind of neat? Who am I?}

I was reading through the Psalms and there are so many references to God defending, protecting, being with and loving the brokenhearted.

He heals the brokenhearted,

And binds up their wounds (Ps 147:3).

And it got me thinking, who are these brokenhearted? In our culture and our cities and our media, the brokenhearted are usually pre-teen girls,  getting out of six month highschool relationships, with tissues, texting and tequila.

And although Jesus loves these ones, I know there’s more to it then that.

I am brokenhearted about a lot of things.

Global poverty, health care inequality, preventable disease spread, malnutrition, war and closed countries to name a few.

Hurt in my own past, and the hurt of missing people, and my home.

Watching the film last night, and trying to process what that means and the undeserved and ABUNDANT blessing in my own life, I was, I am brokenhearted for the people of this world. For the victims, the trafficked, the abused, the defenseless. But also for the perpetrators, for the extent of human evil, human greed, addiction; the deception and the lies and the devastation.

This world I think is brokenhearted.

It makes me dwell on how much more God is brokenhearted for this world. Beyond I’m sure anything I can comprehend or understand.

People were designed by God to love, worship and be in perfect relationship with Him and one another.

Sin destroyed that. Sin destroys that.

We are a brokenhearted people. Longing for completion, for saving, for Him.

It’s so clear to me and remember the Pslams. God heals the brokenhearted, and those who are crushed in spirit.

God healed, through Jesus, the brokenhearted. We are the brokenhearted, but through Jesus – He healed us. Once for all, forever..

What hope that is for this world! For the suffering, we have completion. We have grace.

So many times in the Bible, when Jesus or angels appear (like for example in John 6 where Jesus walked on water over to His disciples, or in Matthew 28 where He appears to them post death); people fear Him. They are terrified, afraid. Fear of the Lord is the appropriate and correct response to the man of Jesus, to who He is, and yet you know what He says? You know what He always invites?

Do not be afraid.

We should fear, but instead we receive an invitation of undeserved grace, and love.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.

Amen!