There's Something About Driving

There's something about having the windows rolled down, Jon Foreman flowing through the speakers.

There's something about watching the world race past you, almost too fast to even see what everythng is.

There's something about seeing the clouds stretch out for forever, and never stop.

There's something about simply being with someone you love.

There's something about passing trees, and looking up, and seeing the branches and leaves above your head.

There's something about seeing the reflection of clouds on your window, in your rear view mirror.

There's something about driving.

I've always loved driving. Well, being a passenger in a driving car.

I've loved the comfort of not having to say anything to the person next to me, but simply being able to be with them. The world racing past me, I take in every small detail, because I know that it will be gone in a matter of seconds. Like I'll never see it again, like there's actually something to look at besides buildings, other cars, and shops.

There's something about driving.

I'll never understand it, my love for being in a car. For watching the world race by, for sticking my hand out the window and feeling the breeze on my fingertips, my wrists, my elbows. But I will forever know that there truly is something about driving, that moves me, speaks to me, wants more of me.

There's something about driving.

While driving, I am free to fly.

Only The Beginning

Barry, this Sunday, told a story of a girl he met while in Africa. He saw her again at a mission's conference a while later. He asked about Tanzania (where she was when he met her) and how long she was in the states. She answered, "Oh, I'm going back soon. I can't stay here. God wants me there. Tanzania is my home."
My breath caught, and my heart skipped a beat. HOME. Her HOME was a third world country. Missioning, serving. And that caused something to stir inside of me. My hands got a little sweaty, and my throat closed up. I took this as God wooing me, romancing me, pulling me closer, inch by inch, to His heart, where everlasting love lies.

I am not meant to stay here.

Yes, this is a time of rest. But this is also a time of preparation. I do not know where I will go, why I will go, how I will go, but I know in my heart that I am meant to go.
This Summer, I will be going to Honduras. I will spend a week in South America. I have never been on an airplane. I have never been out of the country. But I know, this is just the beginning.
I am prepared. No, I am not completely there. I never will be, I will always have learning to do. I know I'm going to get there and have my mind BLOWN by how much I thought I knew. I am not expecting it to be easy. I am not expecting anything. I am not expecting to go, and be carefree, having fun, and not once get my hands dirty. I KNOW my heart will fight with me over many things.
But like I said, this is only the beginning.
I will be going on an airplane. I will have no contact with my family, or any loved ones. I am afraid of forgetting something. Afraid of being unprepared. Afraid of SO many things.
But this is not about me.
Oh, how God is continually proving this to me. He is everything. He is my reason, my joy, my all. He is my source of life, without Him I am dead. So, I am absolutely giving it to Him, and His plans.
Someday, I will go.
And like I said, this is only the beginning.

I Have An Issue With Feet

I don’t know when it started, how it started, or why it started. But I hate feet.
I hate the look, the smell, the touch…everything about feet grosses me out. I hate it when people touch my feet, or get near my feet. I hate it when people see my feet, and I’ll do everything I can just to hide them-under socks, shoes, and anything else it takes. I even have issues wearing flip-flops.
But one thing I have noticed-the people closest to me, can touch my feet. When my toes are cold, I stick them under Chris’s leg to make them warm. When I’m being goofy, Sam tickles my feet to make me laugh harder. Chris rubs my feet sometimes. My Mom and I sit with feet touching.
And I’m not disgusted.

What is this? Where did my disgust with feet start?

Recently we had an “Experiencing Easter” thing at our church. People went around, washing feet, as Jesus did to the disciples. I skipped out. I got up from the blanket I was sitting on, and left. I simply could not stand the thought of someone touching my feet, I couldn’t stand the thought of me having to touch someone else’s feet.
Ms. Monica also skipped out. We were standing in the kitchen, and she was giving me a hard time. Messing around with me, she asked me,
“Melodie, are you holier than Jesus?”
I know she was kidding, and just messing around with me. But that though stuck in my head.
Am I really that stuck up about feet that I can’t humble myself enough to wash another’s feet? Even though Jesus himself would?

The other day, Sam, Chris, Kayla, Audrey, and I went out to a spot to shoot a bit. There was water under a bridge. Standing on the edge of a rock, I made the decision to take off my shoes, and walk around in the water.
It felt good. There was sand between my toes, and I didn’t think twice about it. My feet were muddy and gross, and I didn’t even think about it. I simply ran around and played like I used to play as a child.


Chris took a picture of me, sitting on a wall, my pants rolled up, my feet bare.

Stephanie and I were looking at it last night. She says to me, “You know what my favorite part of that picture is?” “What?” I asked.
“Your feet. They’re bare. And they’re beautiful.
Your feet, Mel. They’re gorgeous.”

My heart wrenched at the though. Beautiful feet? How gross!
But thinking further-Stephanie meant that. Stephanie meant that my feet were beautiful.

What is my issue with feet?
They are used for walking on. They lead me places I couldn’t go without them. Some use them for hands, as they do not have hands. How would I feel without feet?

I don’t really know where this thought is going yet, but one thing-

This Summer, I’m going to wear flip-flops.
And I will wear them proudly

"And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written,'How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!'" Romans 10:15

Nothing To Fear

It's been a long time since I have felt my past creeping up on me. It's been a while since I have felt the pressure of past things weigh on my heart like an anchor. Holding me in place, with nowhere to go.
I woke up yesterday morning, and there it was. That deep sinking feeling in my heart. That weight of disgust I felt for myself. That hatred for who I am, and everyone else in my life.
I began to let lies creep in.
"You're not enough."
"You don't deserve what you're getting."
"They're only being nice because they have to."
"He doesn't really love you, he just wants something from you."
"What you had was good, it was thrilling, it was fulfilling. And you could have it all back."
At youth group, some teens hung around for about 15 minutes just hanging out.
Standing between two cars-one with a boy beckoning me in, one with a girl and her boy making out, I prayed.
"God-I'm scared. I've always been scared. But I know you're bigger. I know you are stronger. My past...it has nothing to do with myself now, except for throwing up red flags so I know when I'm headed to the wrong places. Lies are seeping in, and I'm afraid. I know that I will always be tempted God, but I do not want to cross the line of temptation into sin. I need you, God. And I always have. I need these lies to go away, because I know they are not from you."
And yesterday, I walked away from the boy beckoning me into his car.
I got the kids we were taking home, and we got in the van. The girl driving got in, and we drove home with cuss words blaring into my ears from her cd.
I laid my head back on the seat and fought back tears. I rolled down my window, so I had a place to look. The wind would blow the tears away.
Through Satan's eyes, and through my eyes-I am nothing. I am simply a human being, an evil sinner.
But through God's eyes-I am His child. I am beautiful. I am enough.
And I can do absolutely nothing without Him.

I will not be driven by fear.
I will not allow fear to be what drives me.
I will not let fear overcome me.
Because through God-I have nothing to fear.

Love

Today, I found out what love means.
Of course-I've always known the definition. I've always known the meaning behind it. But it was all such head knowledge. It's been so long since I have felt love from another human. It's been so long since I have felt sincere love from people on this Earth. Today, I was provided with that.
There is so much that I would like to write here, and yet words simply cannot describe it to the extent that I would like them to. So I am going to do my very best.
My Mom and I went out shopping-just the two of us. We simply sat in silence, and talked when words were needed to be said. The music was not loud, just a low roar in the background. We drove along, words not always being said. But simply, just simply, enjoying each other's presence.
I went to Alyssa's house, and we talked like we have not talked in so much time.
Alyssa, Chad, Chris, and I went to California Pizza Kitchen. We laughed like I have not laughed in so long.
Yesterday, Chris was able to meet my family (Uncles, Aunts, cousins, grandparents). He played with my four-year-old cousin as if he would never get the chance to again. He laughed more than I have ever seen him laugh. He put up with my grandma like no one but us Pruitts can. It's impossible, to explain to you the level of love that that forced into my heart.
Tonight we went and saw The Thorn. I've never seen it before. I know, so many people are bitter about New Life, and everything big and showy they do. But I have to be honest, and saw it was a fantastic show. I cried tears I have not shed in years.
This is my first Easter.
This is my first Easter as a woman of God. As I sat there, I was not saddened by the fact that Jesus was whipped. I was saddened by the fact that he did that for such a people as you and I. When was the last time I sat in that? When was the last time I read the story of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection?
It's been so long. Last Easter, I was still not thrilled. I was still confused. Still broken. Still not truly trusting and believing.
But this Easter, as I sat arm in arm with Chris, it sunk in.
Jesus died for me.
Jesus died.
for me.
I don't know how anyone could know that, and not fall on their faces at His feet and praise Him. His love for us exceeds anything we could ever imagine.
Here I am-in the best relationship of my life. I can't even tell you the amount of love that Chris makes me feel. I can feel it in his gaze. I can feel it in his touch. I can feel it in his words. I feel it simply in his presence. My heart explodes with the thought of him loving me.
And yet that love is not even close to the way that God loves me. It does not even compare in any way, shape, or form to the amount of love and forgiveness God has given me.

One of the many things I am learning from my relationship with Chris-is not so much the fact that he loves me. But more of the fact that I have been given the chance to love him.
And that's such an image of Christ.

I, a completely undeserving human being, am loved with the fullness of the creator of the universe. And He has given me-time and time again-the chance to love Him in return.
I cannot count the times that I have "come back to Christ". But a few months ago, that night in Stephanie's house, changed my life. And ever since then, I have been living for Christ.
I absolutely am not going to take advantage of the chances I have been giving. I can do nothing but praise and worship Him, because He has been so good to me.
Instead of spitting me out of His mouth, instead of throwing me to the curb, instead of leaving me to a life of loneliness, failure, and worthlessness-he gave me new life. He healed all my wounds, He recreated my heart, and washed away everything.
I have been given the chance to love Him-the man I rejected for so many years.
I have been given the chance to love Him.
And I absolutely am going to love Him with everything that I am.