Becca Self reflects about LTLC 2010

This was written two days before the trip, I was trying to write a love letter to God because he gave us so many in the Scriptures:

To Jesus the intangible,
How come you are so hard to recognize? We have to use our minds to convince our hearts that you are really with us. You are in us, but we forget about you. Jesus, you are really hard to understand. It’s hard to know you, Lord. We want what you want, but we don’t know that most of the time. You know everything. Can you tell when we are looking for you? Jesus, what is up with this prayer thing? Are we just creating you to fulfill our needs like Freud said? How can you never change but appear so differently to all of us? How can you hear so much at once? Why do you care about those of us who forget about you? You’re baffling. Please, Jesus, be within reach. Don’t be so far away that we doubt. On our dryness, pour your dew, not just a sprinkling please. Enkindle in us the fires of your love. Bonfires, not candles please. Open the door to every feeble knock, because we really aren’t that strong. Be with us fiercely, Jesus, like a lion. Lambs are hard to recognize as King. Help us never forget you.
With love and desperation,
Your Becca

† Several days later, God responded.
His response was a whisper, not a lion’s roar like I asked for, but so powerful. We were sitting on a baseball field in Kansas together for an hour, and this is just a tiny part of what he put on my heart.
From God’s heart to mine-
I want you to feel that the warm breeze is me. Remember this feeling of unity with your brothers and sisters. Stop trying to have all the answers. Let me look at you. Start being more honest with yourself. Get over your headache, ignore these ants. Smile, laugh, sing, and dance, not because it’s normal for sixteen year old girls to do, but because you’d burst if you held this all in. Don’t forget how small you are. Remember that you are capable of giving my love to everyone I put in your life. Love my mother, because she loves you. Follow her example of openness. Let me show you my plans for the future, and don’t forget that I will be there with you. Quit pretending to have your vocation figured out, stop closing doors. Let me write your story. Stop and stare with wonder at the beauty around you. Let me fight despair away from you, don’t give in to depression. Hold on to hope. Be a rock for others, as I am a rock for you. Bring them to me. Don’t go to sleep without saying goodnight. If you feel thirsty, dry, or cold, remember that I am water and fire. Use what I’ve blessed you with, don’t be lazy. Search for that tight, scared, dark feeling and bring it to me. Set those sad thoughts up by a lamp, let me show you that all is well. Let me love you, and others through you. Be mine.

The week was basically about hearing, accepting, and responding to the fact that God is bigger and more intimately involved with our hearts than we’d ever thought possible. Our lives are changing to keep responding to this. Our worst fear now is to fail. What we have been given is more than a feeling, it’s a relationship, primarily with God. But now we are also accountable to each other, to sacrificially love each other. The most significant teaching Jesus gave to the world wasn’t up on the Mount, but his act of kneeling to wash his disciples’ feet the night before his humiliating death. Prayer now makes me think of stepping with bare feet onto hot sand- uncomfortable at first, then I just want to wiggle in deeper and deeper and never move, while at the same time I’m running toward the cool water for relief. If you ever encounter that warmth or light, don’t run from it. Keep the posture of your heart open, God has so much to give you. Thanks.