THING Talk II

Please let me know if this version of my talk is maybe better than the one I posted earlier!

My name is Janna Hoskin. I’m 28 years old. I grew up in Alberta, but I’ve lived in Ontario and BC. I have a degree in Composition from the University of Calgary and one in Psychology from Lakehead University. I work with autistic children. I go to Holy Trinity Anglican Church. I’m the Secretary on TEC’s Steering Committee. I play the clarinet and the guitar, and I sing. I write songs, poetry, fiction, and essays, but I’ve never been published. I’m single, but most of you are way too young for me. I have three younger brothers, the youngest of whom is 22. My parents live in Ontario. Dad is an Anglican priest, and Mom teaches piano and baby music classes. Bethany is my best friend. I learned to read when I was three. I like computers. I used to eat almost anything except seafood; now there’s more food I don’t like and some I’ve started to like. Still hate seafood, though.

So my topic tonight is “My Timing, Not Yours”. It’s different from the original concept, which was to be a testimony about faith crises. But as I began to collect material, I changed my focus. So that eventually, I sent Laurel a few phrases to choose from for the talk title, and she chose this. It helped me focus somewhat, so I hope the result is coherent and understandable.

The phrase “My timing, not yours” was at the end of a short message God gave me a few weeks ago. I was at the Monday night Tehillah service over at First Assembly, praying at the front for a new revelation from God. When I looked up, the first thing I saw was a poster that said “wait”. And when I sat back down, the words flowed onto the page… all about waiting, about being patient. Here’s part of it:

I gifted you with impulsivity and stubbornness, with enthusiasm... maintain this momentum from now until your time has come. It will come. My time is not your time. You know that. Sit tight; all will become clear in My time. I will reveal Myself to you when the timing is right - when you are ready - and not before.
Rest assured, love, that you will see My face soon enough.

Breathe Me in.

My timing, not yours.

WAIT.

I am not, by nature, an impressively patient person. I grew up waiting, and a long time ago I decided I didn’t want to become a late person. I waited mostly for my Dad, who has to talk to everyone before he leaves a function, and always has to do “just one more thing” before he leaves the house.

I have become my father, except not as successful; by the time Dad was my age, he’d been married for 3 ½ years and had a 1yo daughter (yes, me). He also had a BA in History from the U of A and his License in Theology from Wycliffe College. He was ordained a priest and installed in his first parish, up north, in Manning & Deadwood. Marriage, a child, a dog, and an established career.

I have two guinea pigs.

I’m not dissatisfied with things, most of the time. I would like to get married and have a family someday. I would like to learn to manage my finances properly. I would love to go back to school and do graduate studies!

All in good time.

All in God’s time.

Which sucks, because I hate waiting.

My brain is always working. I can’t turn it off. When I was little, I complained a lot about not being able to fall asleep. I can’t tell you how many times my Mom tried to help me relax enough to get to sleep!

Because my brain is always on, I generate a lot of ideas in a day. Half of them I want to make happen right away, but of course, that’s not always practical.

With impatience comes irritability and anxiety. And with extreme anxiety comes depression, at least for me.

Of course, what I’ve been describing to you here isn’t just anxiety and impatience and depression. My brain actually functions in a completely different way from pretty well every single one of you here tonight.

“Yes,” you’re thinking, “everyone’s different, and you’re unique, too.”

That’s not what I’m talking about.

Talk about God’s timing…!

In February of this year, I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder. You never would have guessed, would you>

I have worked incredibly hard, all of my life, to appear normal and put-together. I procrastinate, I over-book myself, and I can’t keep my house clean, but I do fulfill most (if not all) of my obligations, usually on time (it helps if the task is something I can get right into).

So, I’m a pretender.

Many times over the years, I have complained in my journals about my inability to understand, feel, or know God’s love for me. I struggle to get as close to Him as others seem to be. I rage against this wall that cuts me off from my heart’s desire.

And sometimes…

Sometimes I do some pretty stupid stuff.

Back in December, I dared God to prove to me that He loves me. Here is part of my journal entry from that night:

So... I challenged God tonight on the way home from the conference.
I hate it so much when the things He keeps impressing upon me aren't the things I want Him to tell me about! Ever since Cursillo, it's been about love. About how I can't/won't/don't let love in. About how He loves me and I don't let Him love me as much as He wants to. About how I don't believe He loves me (not truly, not fully).

And I, of course, don't want to hear about God's love for me! I want to hear about what's going to happen next in my life. I want to know and understand His will for me, not this thing He calls love (which He is, which is also incredibly annoying).

So I got mad tonight and yelled at God while I was driving home from the conference. I told Him off. I know it's okay to do that cuz the Bible says David was angry with God, and David was a man after God's own heart, so it's okay to be mad at God sometimes.

But I got mad and told Him off, and then I challenged Him. I dared Him. And I knew when I did it that I was doing something dangerous. But I pointed out that I'm not testing God, I'm testing myself. I'm basically just giving Him permission to do whatever He wants with this love business, because I'm not going to be able to just open the door and let Him do it on my own time - He's gonna have to break me open and PROVE His love to me on HIS time.

I know it's gonna suck a lot. I know it's gonna hurt a lot. I know I'm not going to like this very much, at all. It's going to involve a lot of revisiting past hurts and past loves and learning to let people love me and learning to let God love me. And that's going to be hard, and hurtful.

And He gave me a picture for someone tonight. Even in the midst of me not fully accepting His love, He gave me something for someone else. How can He do that? How can I do that? How can I give someone a message when I'm unable to receive Him fully?

Only by the grace of God. His wonderful, amazing, powerful, phenomenal, merciful love. That thing I can't be fully open to yet... He's still sneaking it in there without me realizing it.

There are things in me that make it difficult to recognize love when it is directed towards me, things that make it hard to accept when I DO recognize it, things that make it impossible to believe that I'm even WORTH it in the first place. And those things are going to start coming to the top now, because I DARED HIM to break me, shape me, mould me, fix me. Remake me into a vessel that can hold and dispense His love the way He wants me to... the way I was originally meant to.

Stupid.

Ever since I made that dare, God’s been challenging me. He’s challenging me to accept His love, to take steps in new directions, to stop thinking of myself as being less than I am, to be open and vulnerable with others.

God is insistent that I do these things, that I take Him up on His challenges, even as He takes me up on my dare.

The completely insane thing of it is that I keep running away. I keep pushing Him away. Yes, I want to be close to God – I need Him, desperately – but at the same time, I want to be in control, I want to know what’s going to happen, and I especially want to avoid doing the hard stuff as much as possible.

Honestly, I think God just laughs at me sometimes.

See, I’ve been trying to understand this stuff for a long time. Back in June of 2000, I wrote this poem:

God of contradictions
God of unchanging
solidarity.

How am I to remember to fear
the greatness of the One who created Eternity
when I am reminded at every turn
that He is also supposed to be my best friend?

How do you fear a friend?

How am I supposed to find You
praying in the Garden of Gethsemane
when it’s the simplest of truths
that I have trouble coming to in faith?

How do you come to faith?

How can I sing Your praises
with the angels who love You unquestioningly
when I always have to ask
and I don’t want to be who I am?

How do you worship ‘I AM’?

How do I know You’re around
listening to my tearful, terrified prayers
when I can’t quiet the sounds
and come in silence to feel Your presence?

How do you enter that presence?

How do I find that place again
that I can come around the corner once more
crawl into Your lap for comfort
walk with You in the orchard
eventually fly above it all?

How do I find the You I’ve forgotten
the You I never knew
the You I need?
How can I reach far enough,
strive hard enough,
give enough,
be enough
to reach You?

How can I feel You?

I must be Thomas once again,
doubting in the face of all the evidence,
wondering if it’s really true,
hoping that it is...
knowing deep down that it has to be.

How do I come back?

Where do I go?
What do I need?

God of contradictions
God of unchanging
solidarity.

And just this past March, I wrote this journal entry – note the thematic similarity:

I don't understand this whole love thing. How do you experience God's love? How do you feel something or someone you cannot physically see or touch or hear?

I love God. I love Jesus. I really, truly do. I just don't totally understand things.

Still stuck in this place where I know & believe with my head, but I'm not so sure about my heart.

Did I say still?

Yes. And I meant it.

I know I've had moments of knowing & believing with my whole being, but those were moments - by definition, very fleeting.

When I read about people being caught up in His arms, being swept away by His love, wanting to get to know Him more, I get... stuck.

What does all of that mean?

What is it like to be caught up in God's arms, to feel that kind of safety and warmth?

What is it like to be swept away by God's love, to truly give all control over to Him?

What is it like to want to get to know Him more - to know Him?

I'm confused, and frustrated, and all the rest of everything... I just don't know...

I want to know God. I don't know how to do that.

*peers around the corner of that wretched orchard*

Hey, Jesus... I know I keep doing this... but can You maybe help me get in there with You? And once I'm there, do something to keep me where I'm supposed to be? I want to be there with you, I just don't think I'm able to get in without Your help. And I obviously can't stay without Your help.

The pictures are back, which is just so phenomenal. And I saw Jesus' eyes last night, over and over... if I could, I'd draw them. But that's one thing I know I'm unable to capture.

To see the things God wants to tell me, that is just... amazing.

But I want more.

How much more?

I want everything. I want it all. I want whatever He has planned for me. I know it's all good, because I know that He is good.

I just really would like my heart to be in tune with my head. Right now, it's like there are two different songs going on inside me, and they're in different keys and really don't fit together well. I need them to mesh. I need them to be one piece instead of two.

Things have been progressing since then. April was a time of pushing and pulling and the beginning of this “waiting” theme that I’ve got going on now. The song Walk on Water, by Marc Cohn, came into my life a few months before, but it caught me in April and I had to respond to it:

What else am I gonna do, really? I have to wait on You!

I know I can walk on water - do what seems impossible. I just have to trust You, accept Your help, believe that You will be there to haul me out of the depths if (when!) I start to sink.

That certainty... I once knew, without a shadow of a doubt to mar the beauty of Godly knowledge & certainty, that I could walk on water. I could do the impossible. I could know You - really, truly, the way You want me to. I could do anything.

I can do anything - where I am weak, You are strong!

I long to feel safe, God. That's all I've ever wanted. How... how have I not felt safe? A good home, a solid foundation to root myself and guide me... how am I not safe with You, with people, with myself?

The desire to feel safe is what is at the root of my desire for closeness with other people.

If I am close to another person, then they will not hurt me. (Yes, I know this isn't true.) So being close to others affords me some measure of safety, of protection.

Oh, God!

I know I know I KNOW! that true safety may only be found in You! that true, reciprocal, unconditional love can only come from You! that the kind of closeness I so desperately desire... is Yours and Yours alone.

I struggle with the intangibles of relationship with You. Daily, it seems, I feel unfulfilled. And I know, I know, I KNOW! that it is I, not You, causing this dissatisfaction in my soul.

I want You

I need You

And I absolutely have to love You!

You are within and without, the air through which I move - that which gives me life.

Desperately I seek You, when I remember to look. Desperately I need You. Desperately.

The impossible, for me, starts here.

Seeking You, striving to know You fully.

I don't want to be found this time. This time, I want to find You. But, of course, I don't know where You are; You always have the advantage of knowing exactly where I am, at any given time.

I don't have that luxury.

I don't know where You are. I'm going to have to search, high and low... over and under, in and out, in front of, behind, and beside.

But I will find You.

So stay put.

Hide in plain sight.

Be obvious.

Touch me constantly.

I'm tired of crawling, tired of walking, tired of wandering, tired of constantly seeking comfort in Your arms, tired of holding back, tired of refusing all You have to offer. I'm tired of being afraid of my own life!

I want to run, I want to fly! I want to fulfill purpose, reach a destination, follow a plan! I want to garner strength from Your peaceful & loving arms! I want to act & speak out without worry or fear! I want to accept Your best for me! I want to be bold and courageous, and trusting!

God’s timing is a pain. I don’t like waiting, and I never totally understand why He’s making me wait, either. Someday I know I’ll understand. I know He’ll make things clear to me. He told me as much that night at Tehillah, when He said that He will reveal Himself to me when I am ready, that I will see His face.

I’m going to close now, with a short story about last weekend – TEC 41.

I was the A/V person, so I ran the sound, the PowerPoint for the services, and the program we use that lets us put up song lyrics on the screen without using overheads. I quite enjoyed the tasks, but, well, God decided to whack me over the head with a nice big stick. That’s never much fun. You’d think I’d stop putting myself in the position of needing to be slapped upside-the-head, but no, apparently experience doesn’t really teach me much of anything. I swear I’m not a masochist – I’m just a klutz.

TEC is always somewhat stressful for me. I look forwards to the weekend for months, and then by the end of Die Day I’m ready to go home and never work another weekend. But by Monday night, I can’t wait for the next weekend! A vicious cycle, to be sure.

Last weekend I was pretty stressed, which didn’t do much for my self-esteem. I over-reacted to any and all criticism of what I was doing. I took things very personally and my anxiety levels went up just a little.

But nobody really saw that, because I’m not one to express my emotions publicly. So while I was falling apart internally, I was pretty much normal externally. Saturday night I’d had enough. Ian was proofing the song lyrics for typos, and I knew I had to de-stress. So I got my painting stuff and sat in my room with paints and crayons, and I made a picture.

It’s not a happy picture. But it’s definitely about how I was feeling that night.

I felt better after I finished, but not totally. When I got the laptop back from Ian, I started working on the Eucharist service PowerPoint for Sunday morning, and part of the reading from Jeremiah just jumped out at me:

“I have loved you with an everlasting love;
I have drawn you with loving-kindness.

I will build you up again
and you will be rebuilt, O Virgin Israel.

Again you will take up your tambourines
and go out to dance with the joyful.”

(Jeremiah 31:3b-4)

My reaction was, basically, “God, that’s not fair. This sucks. Why do You keep doing this to me?” Because He does. I get into a nice funk, and I’m enjoying being mad at the world – especially mad at God – and then He goes and does something that reminds me of His love for me.

Even though I haven’t yet figured out how to accept His love, He just keeps on pouring it out. I suppose that’s part of who He is and what He’s doing to me… and, really, what He’s been doing across the years, even before I dared Him to prove Himself.

I don’t know if you’ve gotten anything out of my story, and I guess this isn’t really much of a story… there wasn’t a clear beginning, and there isn’t an ending yet. It’s more of a middle, all on its own. But maybe some of this has reached you somehow… maybe some of who I am resonates with some of who you are… maybe you identify with some of what I’ve gone through and am experiencing… maybe you’re thinking hard about what God is doing in your own life, and what He wants you to do.

All I know for sure is that part of this whole waiting on God, acting when He wants me to act, communicating what He wants me to share, and learning to truly experience his love… this talk is a very important part of that.