Oh coffee.

The month of December I have decided to be more focused on listening to the Holy Spirit, and obeying.
This week I have been doing strange things. Tonight was no an exception.
I took my freshmen girls out for coffee today. It was a riot. Seven freshmen girls anywhere leaves trails of giggles. I love it. I love spending time with my girls. I was so excited knowing I wasn't working today, so we could make early plans.
My girls all lined up and ordered their coffee. I was in the back of the line, waiting to pay for all their drinks. I was praying silently, thanking God for letting me have sweet time with them, when I heard Him. That quiet whisper in my heart was getting louder the more intently I have been listening.
He told me I needed to buy the lady's coffee behind me. My first reaction was not obedience. I thought, I am already buying eight drinks, really Lord, you want me to buy another?  Then my second reaction was, it would be weird, all of my girls would see me, it might be awkward.
And then I obeyed.
The barista asked me if that was all, and I quickly blurted out I was buying the lady's drink behind me too. I began praying it was a lady behind me. I hadn't even looked to check. Shaking, I turned around, and there she was. Oh praise Jesus. I didn't just insult a man.
The woman told me I didn't have to, but I insisted. By now everyone is watching the awkwardness unfold. Why can't I be cool, calm, and collected in social settings?? She ordered, and I paid. She looked and me curiously and told me normal people don't buy stranger's coffee. Why would I do such a thing... Oh goodness, I have to talk, I wasn't in the mood, and I suddenly felt myself get nervous.
I turned to her, with the whole store listening to the loud thump of my embarrassed heartbeat, and told her the truth. "I was just praying, and God told me to buy your coffee. I just wanted to bless you." The cashier was slightly baffled. She said one time a girl came in and paid for someone's coffee, trying to pay it forward, but it was a rare occurrence. I then looked to both of them and explained, "I'm not paying it forward. I'm just being obedient. I just want to follow Jesus."
Oh the looks that followed...
Yup, I'm crazy. It's official. I buy stranger's coffee, and pray in line, and then talk about Jesus to everyone, while having brought two cars full of giggling high school girls.
I don't tell this story for any one to think I've got this down. I don't. I'm just really trying to obey Jesus. I'm a mess most of the time.
I was thinking about it later. None of my girls, and no one in the store would've known if I would've ignored the Holy Spirit. But only because I obeyed, did it open the door to share Jesus. I think I also was an example to my girls. It certainly sparked some conversation once we sat down.
I want them to know how to have a genuine faith. I want them to know how to have more than Sunday morning church time. It can be the most amazing thing of their lives. So, I attempt daily obedience, praying they see a real God through this simple, slightly crazed girl.
Goodnight!
Love, M. :)

I went to the cemetery.

I am starting to feel like Michelle again. The cranky, weepy, jerk of a girl who has taken my body captive the past month is starting to move out. This weekend I felt like me. The dancing in the car, smiling at everyone, dork of a girl is coming out of hiding. I am beginning to let go of bitterness and anger. I'm becoming me, again.
I visited the cemetery today.
I was driving home, windows down, music up, hand dancing in the wind, and hair blowing everywhere. I started to realize, He's doing it. Ever so carefully, He is healing me, He is using me, He is restoring me.
I pulled into the cemetery. I didn't know if I could do it. If I could be here, and be okay. I wandered around for a few minutes. The last time I was here, the trees still had their leaves. I couldn't find where she was buried. But then I did. I plopped down on the ground. Sitting in the dirt and grass in a dress is not the most lady like thing to do, but for once I didn't care.
Short sleeves, with no jacket in November. What was I thinking? And then the breeze started. I wasn't cold, I was surprisingly warm, but was covered in goose bumps. Then I heard Him. He whispered in the deepest part of my heart, that only He can be. He told me, "I've got you, girl. You are my beloved."
Maybe those words don't do much for you, but for me, sitting at the grave of a girl whom I loved, weeping and mourning, and trying to do life, they meant something.
They meant so much. He loves me. In an overwhelming love. He wants to heal my heart. He wants to see me smile. He desires to use me. He wants to hold me in His arms. I am His girl. His girl. I am His. He is mine.
A breeze blew so fiercely in that moment, it took my breath away for a second. I could feel Him. He was here. My Jesus did not forget about me, or leave me to figure out life alone. He is here.
I heard Him for the first time in four weeks. I felt Him with every bit of me.
He alone is the one that brings hope. He conquered sin, death, hell, the grave, and Satan himself.
What Satan has been trying to use for his own pleasure, God is using for His good. He alone is sovereign. He alone is good.
So, I continue to sort through life. I trust that He really is sovereign. He is working all things for good, because I love Him. I really just want to honor Him. I want my life to point to Jesus, even on the roughest days.
Last time I was here, I picked up a leaf from near where she was going to buried. I stuck it in my Bible to press it. The colors are still bright, its beautiful. It is a reminder that He did conquer the grave. There is beauty in death, only because of Jesus. Today, I took a crinkly, brown, dead leaf. Even in death, when all hope seems lost, He brings hope, and joy.
Have a great night.
Love, M.