Sleep.

I began writing this blog a little while ago and didn't post it, because I thought about it for a second. I thought to myself, all I ever write about is God anymore. At first I thought that would get monotonous. I am so wrong. God is in every aspect of my life right now- and it is amazing. I can hardly write anything without incorporating God in it somehow. I was talking with my friend a couple days ago and she said, "When I went home, all of my friends had stories of these crazy college drinking parties... and I didn't have any of those." You know what? I'm glad to say that. My college experience is a story of God.
I still have hilarious stories. I still have fallen hopes and dreams. I still fail at times. I still feel like pulling my hair out during the last two weeks of the semester. I'm still a crazy college kid minus the parties.

So this story begins about 3 weeks ago. Right before I gave my testimony at Church Pastor Webb asks, "Are you going to be ready?" I said yes without really thinking about the question. He kept emphasizing that he wanted me to be prepared. That question didn't fully hit me until a couple of days ago. For the past few weeks I had, subconsciously, removed myself from God. I had stopped praying, stopped immersing myself into worship, stopped reading my bible, and became distracted with a lot of other things. Then came the thoughts/feelings. The lies. Lies that I wasn't good enough, wasn't beautiful even in the eyes of God, that I was going to fail in missions. I was losing sleep- constantly tired. I would lay in bed for hours during the day because I wanted to sleep but I couldn't. Last Tuesday was the worst. I was in bed from 6pm to 10pm. alone. Jennifer walked in around 10 and she knew something was wrong. She asked how I was and I just started crying. I couldn't understand why I was so upset and why I was feeling these things when I knew they were lies.
Friday rolls around and my roomie, Nicole, and friend, Christian, decide to have a "creative-writing session". I didn't want to write, but I wanted to hear what they wrote. Even when I told them this they still wanted me to so I did. They gave me a picture of a tattoo and I had to write the story of why this girl was getting it. I wrote 3 pages front and back of a story. A story of redemption and longing for peace. I always knew that a part of you comes out when you write, it is a kind of therapy, but I didn't realize how much it would effect me. Afterward they both said they loved it and asked where that came from.
All of a sudden it hit me. Seriously, like it was a wave of the holy spirit. I knew instantly, I had been spiritually attacked. I don't want this to sound like I blame everything on spiritual warfare, but it is truth. It's out there and I feel like I've been subjected to it slowly, resulting from the prayer to God at the beginning of the year.

So for time's sake- I removed my distraction(a boy). Maybe I'll write another blog later about that when I have more time.
Last night at vespers was a Christmas special. A mixture of Christmas songs and worship music. The greatest part was, there was still a passionate sense of worship through the Christmas songs. I was able to worship with no distractions and it felt so amazing, I honestly feel my best during moments of true worship. I had been missing that so much. At my peak, I heard God say, "Where have you been Megan?" He said it with joy. I pictured Him with a smile and open arms ecstatic for my return. I laughed.
I love the Holy Spirit. Needless to say, things are better. I got my best night sleep last night after vespers. :D