Tuesday, December 30, 2008
THE SANITY OF HUMANITY
Friday 19 September--Saturday 13 December 2008
No, not sanity,
Rather, insanity.
We choose depravity
Over spirituality.
Godless activity
Of our own ability,
Combining brutality
With reckless barbarity,
Forsaking Christianity
To live in captivity.
In our curiosity,
We embrace carnality
With its complexity
And crippling criminality.
We choose conformity,
With all its deformity,
Denying dignity,
Embracing disunity,
Duality,
Duplicity,
While ignoring the enormity
Of the whole of eternity,
Ignoring the finality
Of fatality
With the futility
Of frivolity,
Festivity.
We claim an identity
Void of integrity,
Living in immorality,
Grasping for immortality,
Sacrificing morality,
While denying our mortality,
Pursuing obscenity,
Wallowing in perversity,
Refusing the priority
Of purity
For pointless profanity
And meaningless popularity.
In our stupidity,
We give up security,
Existing in servility
To senseless sensuality,
Sacrificing sanctity,
With its simple simplicity,
Turning to vanity--
Lives squandered in vulgarity . . .
. . . and this is our sanity.
No, not sanity,
Rather, insanity.
We choose depravity
Over spirituality.
Godless activity
Of our own ability,
Combining brutality
With reckless barbarity,
Forsaking Christianity
To live in captivity.
In our curiosity,
We embrace carnality
With its complexity
And crippling criminality.
We choose conformity,
With all its deformity,
Denying dignity,
Embracing disunity,
Duality,
Duplicity,
While ignoring the enormity
Of the whole of eternity,
Ignoring the finality
Of fatality
With the futility
Of frivolity,
Festivity.
We claim an identity
Void of integrity,
Living in immorality,
Grasping for immortality,
Sacrificing morality,
While denying our mortality,
Pursuing obscenity,
Wallowing in perversity,
Refusing the priority
Of purity
For pointless profanity
And meaningless popularity.
In our stupidity,
We give up security,
Existing in servility
To senseless sensuality,
Sacrificing sanctity,
With its simple simplicity,
Turning to vanity--
Lives squandered in vulgarity . . .
. . . and this is our sanity.
FALLEN TOO MANY TIMES
February 8, 2006
But they still followed their Master,
And they had all fallen many times.
They walked and ran theShore of Life
For they were children of the King, and to Him they all belonged.
They bravely struggled onward
For Him pushing forward,
Rising up after falling many times.
One day, while they were treading thus, treading on the Shore,
One suddenly sat down and said, “I ain’t gonna walk no more.
I’ve walked and run,
And had some fun,
But I’ve fallen too many times.”
“Get up,” they said, “we’ll help you walk and keep you on your feet.
Do you want to be sitting there when Jesus you meet?
Do you think that He’ll be pleased,
When you rise up to your knees,
And say, ‘Sorry, but I’ve fallen too many times.’?
Said the one, “If Jesus wanted me on my feet, He would’ve kept me there.
Instead, He pulls me tripping and falling and going who knows where.
You go on, and I will stay
And maybe keep walking another day.
But, I’ve fallen too many times.”
So, they left the one sitting there, sitting on the sand.
They left him there and did not offer him a helping hand.
They didn’t help him.
They simply left him.
He had fallen one too many times.
They could have helped him rise and walk along.
They could have encouraged and helped him to stay strong,
But they just left him there.
They left him and didn’t care,
Because they had all fallen many times.
As you go through life, living each day,
Do you refuse to help a friend in any little way?
Make a stand.
Lend a hand
To those who have fallen many times.
Maybe, maybe God sent them you,
To help them to stand and to make it through.
Hold them tight
Through the night,
And help them keep their feet.
A group of friends were walking, walking by the sea.
They always kept on going. No failure could they see.
They all had seen disaster,They always kept on going. No failure could they see.
But they still followed their Master,
And they had all fallen many times.
They walked and ran the
For they were children of the King, and to Him they all belonged.
They bravely struggled onward
For Him pushing forward,
Rising up after falling many times.
One day, while they were treading thus, treading on the Shore,
One suddenly sat down and said, “I ain’t gonna walk no more.
I’ve walked and run,
And had some fun,
But I’ve fallen too many times.”
“Get up,” they said, “we’ll help you walk and keep you on your feet.
Do you want to be sitting there when Jesus you meet?
Do you think that He’ll be pleased,
When you rise up to your knees,
And say, ‘Sorry, but I’ve fallen too many times.’?
Said the one, “If Jesus wanted me on my feet, He would’ve kept me there.
Instead, He pulls me tripping and falling and going who knows where.
You go on, and I will stay
And maybe keep walking another day.
But, I’ve fallen too many times.”
So, they left the one sitting there, sitting on the sand.
They left him there and did not offer him a helping hand.
They didn’t help him.
They simply left him.
He had fallen one too many times.
They could have helped him rise and walk along.
They could have encouraged and helped him to stay strong,
But they just left him there.
They left him and didn’t care,
Because they had all fallen many times.
As you go through life, living each day,
Do you refuse to help a friend in any little way?
Make a stand.
Lend a hand
To those who have fallen many times.
Maybe, maybe God sent them you,
To help them to stand and to make it through.
Hold them tight
Through the night,
And help them keep their feet.
DESPAIR
February 28—March 5, 2006
Have you lost yourself, my friend?
Do you feel you’ve reached the end?
When you look back, do you feel only hurt,
Or worth a little less than dirt?
When you look ahead, do you feel only pain?
When you dare to hope do you think you’re insane?
I’ve been there, too.
I’ve a cure for you.
Don’t look down.
Lose the frown.
Look ahead.
Without dread.
Look to Jesus and smile again.
Remember, His love can never end.
Do you want to go swimming, but are afraid that you’ll drown?
Do you feel like you’re screaming, but can’t hear a sound?
Do you feel invisible in this big place?
Do you feel alone, but without any space?
When you see all your failures, do you tremble in fear,
Or do you remember Our Great God is here?
Can you find your way after wand’ring so long?
Can you find the strength to admit you were wrong?
Can you look at your friends and not feel ashamed,
Or really believe that they’re not to blame?
When you see their faces, will you smile at them?
Will it be alright? Can you laugh again?
My friend, I care.
So, don’t you dare
Believe I don’t.
Just read this note.
My love is such
That I care so much.
I want to see
You living free!
Put trust and love
In Christ above!
For only He
Can set you free!!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
The Carnival of the Past
You may be lost in the world, looking for the “right track.” The amusement park of the past is familiar, bright, & colorful. The carnival music entices and draws you into recollection. The many tracks are attractive. No matter what age, you will find a track for all. Wood, metal, and other construction mediums combine for a smooth ride. And, there are so many to choose from. If you find that you’re tired of riding, you can play games, stuff yourself with food, or just get lost in the crowd. Sounds pleasant, eh?
The food is expensive and detrimental to your health. The price is not worth the mess it brings. Sticky hands and empty pockets are not a good trade for the lingering mess and short-lived satisfaction. And good luck finding a bathroom to wash your hands. Just don’t even look at the food in the first place.
The crowd? Ha. Good luck finding help from them. They’re in the confusion just the same as you. They wallow in the confusion, some even thriving on it.
The carnival games are practically pointless. You stop dead, pay a price, and if you possess a useless skill you might just win a prize. Yay, you now have a useless toy that you have to carry around, monopolizing an entire arm. If you are “lucky” enough you might have a sweetie there to give it to. An expression of your love, by handing them a relic from your past which they have no use for, save the occasional glance in its direction. Why burden anyone with that? If you are burdened with relics, give them to God. His arms are big enough for anything you’ve got, and He is thrilled with every one you choose to relinquish.
And then, there are the rides. The tracks of the past. You can ride the simple memories: the kiddie rides. You can ride the ones that turn and turn and turn until you barf. You can ride the tremendous monster roller coasters that dip and twirl and turn. You can put your hands in the air. You can scream. You can laugh.
And, some people enjoy this mess. They savor the tragic beauty of failure.
In the end, when the ride is over, you are right back where you started from. The track may have whipped you around, flung you high, drug you low, and turned you on your head, but you end up exactly where you began. With no progress.
A quick survey of your surroundings, and you will find that all the rides are the same. Whether you love them or hate them, they still go nowhere.
Endless, mindless, aimless, relentless, pointless, profitless, godless circles.
Why bother?!
Just save yourself some problems, and avoid the carnival altogether. You can’t change the past by dwelling on it or wallowing in it. Let God handle it all. He wants to. He’s waiting. Is your past so precious that you want to keep it so badly? To lick your wounds again and again? Reliving your nightmares of failure like you’re trapped in the House of Mirrors—by choice?
Instead, hop on the train. You already have your ticket. It was already paid for, all you have to do is to actually board the train.
Take the train. Those tracks are not as easy to get off of, and they continue until they reach their destination. You know where you should be headed: Directly at Christ! Find a platform, and board already!! Take a plane, take a boat, take the monorail if you must! Just find your destination, and go! Get there! (Sounds like a Seuss book.)
Perhaps someday, the past will call out to you. You might even hear the carnival music drift enticingly over a warm and gentle breeze. Just think about it. You might glance back, see the lights, the Ferris wheel, even listen to the music.
But.
Continue on. If your destination is worth it, you can’t afford to be distracted any longer.
Besides . . .
Carnival music is creepy.
The food is expensive and detrimental to your health. The price is not worth the mess it brings. Sticky hands and empty pockets are not a good trade for the lingering mess and short-lived satisfaction. And good luck finding a bathroom to wash your hands. Just don’t even look at the food in the first place.
The crowd? Ha. Good luck finding help from them. They’re in the confusion just the same as you. They wallow in the confusion, some even thriving on it.
The carnival games are practically pointless. You stop dead, pay a price, and if you possess a useless skill you might just win a prize. Yay, you now have a useless toy that you have to carry around, monopolizing an entire arm. If you are “lucky” enough you might have a sweetie there to give it to. An expression of your love, by handing them a relic from your past which they have no use for, save the occasional glance in its direction. Why burden anyone with that? If you are burdened with relics, give them to God. His arms are big enough for anything you’ve got, and He is thrilled with every one you choose to relinquish.
And then, there are the rides. The tracks of the past. You can ride the simple memories: the kiddie rides. You can ride the ones that turn and turn and turn until you barf. You can ride the tremendous monster roller coasters that dip and twirl and turn. You can put your hands in the air. You can scream. You can laugh.
And, some people enjoy this mess. They savor the tragic beauty of failure.
In the end, when the ride is over, you are right back where you started from. The track may have whipped you around, flung you high, drug you low, and turned you on your head, but you end up exactly where you began. With no progress.
A quick survey of your surroundings, and you will find that all the rides are the same. Whether you love them or hate them, they still go nowhere.
Endless, mindless, aimless, relentless, pointless, profitless, godless circles.
Why bother?!
Just save yourself some problems, and avoid the carnival altogether. You can’t change the past by dwelling on it or wallowing in it. Let God handle it all. He wants to. He’s waiting. Is your past so precious that you want to keep it so badly? To lick your wounds again and again? Reliving your nightmares of failure like you’re trapped in the House of Mirrors—by choice?
Instead, hop on the train. You already have your ticket. It was already paid for, all you have to do is to actually board the train.
Take the train. Those tracks are not as easy to get off of, and they continue until they reach their destination. You know where you should be headed: Directly at Christ! Find a platform, and board already!! Take a plane, take a boat, take the monorail if you must! Just find your destination, and go! Get there! (Sounds like a Seuss book.)
Perhaps someday, the past will call out to you. You might even hear the carnival music drift enticingly over a warm and gentle breeze. Just think about it. You might glance back, see the lights, the Ferris wheel, even listen to the music.
But.
Continue on. If your destination is worth it, you can’t afford to be distracted any longer.
Besides . . .
Carnival music is creepy.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
The Great Boxing
I happen to collect boxes from box lunches. After a while of saving up, I had accumulated a nice collection. My boxes, my friends boxes, and even some that I had rescued from the trash cans. And then, the perfect opportunity arrived. My RA had a birthday. So, a crack team and I assembled together to assemble the boxes. Here follows the "evidence."
My roommate messed with her Facebook
We covered her window
We blocked her pathway
So now, she would have to climb over her desk to get into her room
And, the best part is . . . she'll never know it was me!
Unless, of course, she reads the card we left her
. . . and signed . . . 
My roommate messed with her Facebook
We covered her window
We blocked her pathway
So now, she would have to climb over her desk to get into her room
And, the best part is . . . she'll never know it was me!
Unless, of course, she reads the card we left her
. . . and signed . . . 
The Snack That Smiles No More
Shock and horror flood through the aquatic nation as word is spread about the massacre of late Thursday night. This tale of tragedy and woe happened on the 24th of April in the now somber room of I2 in Fletcher dorm. It was during the dull of homework that Brittany entered the suite. Kaikai, the inhabitant of I2 called out her usual greeting of, “Quiet!” Apparently, this was provocation enough for Brittany. She threw her flip-flop at Kaikai, who was not phased, but simply proceeded to the window, flip-flop in hand. Her intention was to throw the innocent flip-flop out the window, as Brittany had done to Kaikai’s pillow a few days prior. When Brittany realized the imminent danger her flip-flop was in she raced to its rescue. Sadly, her rescue attempt was too late and the flip-flop, who had committed no crime, was flung out the window and plummeted to its doom. In a desperate act of retaliation, Brittany took out her revenge on the bag of goldfish, which were sitting helplessly on the windowsill. Their only crime had been their proximity. As the crackers crunched together, the cheesy bodies were mangled, mutilated, and mixed in the bag. With a few swift smacks, Brittany had managed to kill a community. And it did not end there. These victims too, were ejected out the 3rd-floor window. Bag and fish flew, and for an instant, the world held its breath. They landed unceremoniously with a sickening clatter. THE SAD ENDING The exposed corpses were scattered grotesquely across the grass. With no grave, they lay there baking in the sun. And various pieces still lie there, a solemn warning to anyone who wishes to try Brittany’s patience. THE HAPPY ENDING The flip-flop miraculously survived the fall and made a complete recovery. Reunited with its partner in a touching scene, the pair continue together to this day.
Welcome to Sixteen Random Facts About Me
So, since I am feeling very self-centered, self-focused, and generally self-aware, I thought that I would share with you. Welcome to . . . me.
1. I am an English Major who dislikes grammar. (However that works.)
2. I am anti-claustrophobic. (I sleep under the bed.)
3. I have cafeteriaphobia. (It’s all the people.)
4. I have two middle names. (And, no I won’t tell you what they are. Don’t ask.)
5. I love to play street hockey. (I guess I’m pretty good even for a girl.)
6. I have way too much stuff. (Massive re-organization coming soon.)
7. Red is my ultimate favorite color of all time. (Symbolically, aesthetically, comparatively, etc.)
8. I broke my head open when I was little, and the doctor tied my long hair in surgical knots to keep my head together as it healed. (If my hair was really short, you’d be able to see where the hair is still freaking out from that.)
9. Yesterday, I drank a 2 litre, skin-colored concoction made from lemonade, pink lemonade, citrus green tea, and raspberry green tea. (It goes without saying that I visited the bathroom often, but I will mention it anyways because of how ridiculously often it was.)
10. I was born 10 days early. (All of my sisters were born late.)
11. I like to draw.
12. I wear Christmas socks all year round. (They’re really too spectacular to be confined to only one month out of twelve.)
13. My crazy mind takes completely normal objects and transforms them. (Butcher paper into a mural on my wall, a giant origami kusudama, a sweet book cover, etc. Apples become, well, carved apples. Twisty-ties become trees or Sleeping Beauty. And more crazy ideas.)
14. I love asking questions.
15. I laugh when I’m nervous or awkward. (Just ask my roomie.)
16. I’m awkward a lot. (See numbers 3, 12, 13, 15, and especially 9.)
1. I am an English Major who dislikes grammar. (However that works.)
2. I am anti-claustrophobic. (I sleep under the bed.)
3. I have cafeteriaphobia. (It’s all the people.)
4. I have two middle names. (And, no I won’t tell you what they are. Don’t ask.)
5. I love to play street hockey. (I guess I’m pretty good even for a girl.)
6. I have way too much stuff. (Massive re-organization coming soon.)
7. Red is my ultimate favorite color of all time. (Symbolically, aesthetically, comparatively, etc.)
8. I broke my head open when I was little, and the doctor tied my long hair in surgical knots to keep my head together as it healed. (If my hair was really short, you’d be able to see where the hair is still freaking out from that.)
9. Yesterday, I drank a 2 litre, skin-colored concoction made from lemonade, pink lemonade, citrus green tea, and raspberry green tea. (It goes without saying that I visited the bathroom often, but I will mention it anyways because of how ridiculously often it was.)
10. I was born 10 days early. (All of my sisters were born late.)
11. I like to draw.
12. I wear Christmas socks all year round. (They’re really too spectacular to be confined to only one month out of twelve.)
13. My crazy mind takes completely normal objects and transforms them. (Butcher paper into a mural on my wall, a giant origami kusudama, a sweet book cover, etc. Apples become, well, carved apples. Twisty-ties become trees or Sleeping Beauty. And more crazy ideas.)
14. I love asking questions.
15. I laugh when I’m nervous or awkward. (Just ask my roomie.)
16. I’m awkward a lot. (See numbers 3, 12, 13, 15, and especially 9.)
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
My Ideal Friend
THE ideal friend for anyone and everyone is only Jesus Christ. No one else can match His faithfulness and love. He is the friend of sinners. He comforts me when I am distressed. He provides for me when I have a need. He talks with me whenever I feel like talking. He rescues me from my sin and from myself. He lets me struggle so that I can grow. He lets me know when I am wrong. He goes everywhere with me. He never forgets me. He loves me beyond what I could ever imagine. He never leaves me. He’s my friend.
When I look for a friend, I look for someone who is a friend of my friend, Jesus. If they love God, then it is not as important that they love me. I would rather have them love God than to love me. I am definitely not first place in importance, and I shouldn’t be. In fact, it’s probably a good idea if I don’t get noticed as much as I want to. I hate to write that, because I have a desire for attention & recognition. When I am noticed it makes me happy in a shallow sort of way. Instead of reacting in a right way and tossing all the praise up to God, I hold on to it myself. I tuck away the compliments for further glorification of myself. I should eagerly throw them up to God for His control, giving myself no chance for developing a high opinion of myself, and giving the world the chance to develop a high opinion of my Great God who created me and my talents. I want Him to have all the glory, but I still try to share in His spotlight. No! It is the glory of God alone in me!
Maybe this is why I don’t like compliments. I don’t feel that I deserve them. Sure, there may be something there deserving of praise, but I don’t deserve it. Give the praise and glory to God! He alone deserves all glory and praise! My friend should give glory to God for everything in my life. When I look for a friend, I look for someone who is so close to God that I can’t help but draw closer to Him just by spending time with them.
My ideal friend loves God more than they love me, seeks hard after God, talks about God, and urges me to draw nearer to God.
When I look for a friend, I look for someone who is a friend of my friend, Jesus. If they love God, then it is not as important that they love me. I would rather have them love God than to love me. I am definitely not first place in importance, and I shouldn’t be. In fact, it’s probably a good idea if I don’t get noticed as much as I want to. I hate to write that, because I have a desire for attention & recognition. When I am noticed it makes me happy in a shallow sort of way. Instead of reacting in a right way and tossing all the praise up to God, I hold on to it myself. I tuck away the compliments for further glorification of myself. I should eagerly throw them up to God for His control, giving myself no chance for developing a high opinion of myself, and giving the world the chance to develop a high opinion of my Great God who created me and my talents. I want Him to have all the glory, but I still try to share in His spotlight. No! It is the glory of God alone in me!
Maybe this is why I don’t like compliments. I don’t feel that I deserve them. Sure, there may be something there deserving of praise, but I don’t deserve it. Give the praise and glory to God! He alone deserves all glory and praise! My friend should give glory to God for everything in my life. When I look for a friend, I look for someone who is so close to God that I can’t help but draw closer to Him just by spending time with them.
My ideal friend loves God more than they love me, seeks hard after God, talks about God, and urges me to draw nearer to God.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
The Joys of Being Single
Single.
(sigh)
Single.
Still single.
In my high school experience, I never even thought of finding a boyfriend. I knew that I was too young and that anything started that early probably wouldn’t last. I was young, and I was just mature enough to realize that I was too immature to have a boyfriend. I told myself that I could/would wait until college.
I am in college now. Two years and still no boyfriend. I was not really ready my freshman year, and the older I get, the more I am able to recognize how immature I actually am. I am near 22 and still not sure that I am ready for a relationship of that importance. I have so much sin to deal with in myself.
It was easy for me to come to grasp that if I’m not content and happy now, then I won’t be when I’m married. I must be fully dependent on God, and then I can rely on Him completely when I’m single, in a relationship, or married. I would love to have the security of a man, but I MUST depend on God.
It is easy to know this and even accept this, but I want a family. I want a boyfriend.
I want someone who thinks I’m way cool.
I want someone to hold my hand.
I want someone to hold me.
I want someone to lend me their shoulder and wipe away my tears.
I want to be married.
I want to have kids.
I want to grow old with my best friend.
I want to know who he IS.
I want to play with his hair.
I want to massage his shoulders.
I want to sing to him.
I want to cherish him.
I want to imagine ways to please him.
I want to be with the one I love.
I have these desires, but GOD MUST BE FIRST. If I cannot love God completely, then I can never love a man correctly.
I am working in and with myself to be willing to follow God and be content, no matter what comes. The best part of being single is that I can focus on God right now, distraction free.
As scary as it is for me, maybe He wants me to be alone for a while so I can lean more heavily on Him.
“A while.” My emotions scream in terror at those words.
How long? How long? I want to know! I am left in a dark tunnel, with no visible light at the end. I have no idea how long I must travel this tunnel. I despair at the darkness, and yet I carry a flashlight in my pocket. All I have to do is pull it out and turn it on. It sounds easy enough, but many times I stumble around in darkness, straining to see that light at the end of the tunnel.
The reality is that the light at the end of the tunnel is a myth. It is just as dark outside the tunnel, in any relationship, as it is in the tunnel. There is no magic switch once you get married, to make everything bright, beautiful, and God-honoring. The only benefit is that now you have two flashlights to share.
I know that marriage does not equal happily-ever-after, but I still want it.
As much as I do want it, I want to please my God above all. My mind and thoughts wander to my wants, and by force of will, I turn them back to a focus on God.
All I really want is what my God wants for me.
It is scary to think that my God might want me to serve Him by myself. Sure, it would be hard, but with His help, I know I can tackle anything. Maybe God wants me to become a missionary and go to . . . Brazil or some other country all by myself.
With God I can/will accomplish anything.
This is why I won’t settle. I can’t settle for anything less.
I want someone who loves God just as much as I do. I want what God wants for me, so I want someone who wants what God wants too.
Rule Number One:
Whoever he is, he must know God, love God, and follow God.
So, I wait.
I don’t like it all the time.
There are times when I hate it, but I know that God’s plan is better than anything I can imagine.
So,
I WAIT.
(sigh)
Single.
Still single.
In my high school experience, I never even thought of finding a boyfriend. I knew that I was too young and that anything started that early probably wouldn’t last. I was young, and I was just mature enough to realize that I was too immature to have a boyfriend. I told myself that I could/would wait until college.
I am in college now. Two years and still no boyfriend. I was not really ready my freshman year, and the older I get, the more I am able to recognize how immature I actually am. I am near 22 and still not sure that I am ready for a relationship of that importance. I have so much sin to deal with in myself.
It was easy for me to come to grasp that if I’m not content and happy now, then I won’t be when I’m married. I must be fully dependent on God, and then I can rely on Him completely when I’m single, in a relationship, or married. I would love to have the security of a man, but I MUST depend on God.
It is easy to know this and even accept this, but I want a family. I want a boyfriend.
I want someone who thinks I’m way cool.
I want someone to hold my hand.
I want someone to hold me.
I want someone to lend me their shoulder and wipe away my tears.
I want to be married.
I want to have kids.
I want to grow old with my best friend.
I want to know who he IS.
I want to play with his hair.
I want to massage his shoulders.
I want to sing to him.
I want to cherish him.
I want to imagine ways to please him.
I want to be with the one I love.
I have these desires, but GOD MUST BE FIRST. If I cannot love God completely, then I can never love a man correctly.
I am working in and with myself to be willing to follow God and be content, no matter what comes. The best part of being single is that I can focus on God right now, distraction free.
As scary as it is for me, maybe He wants me to be alone for a while so I can lean more heavily on Him.
“A while.” My emotions scream in terror at those words.
How long? How long? I want to know! I am left in a dark tunnel, with no visible light at the end. I have no idea how long I must travel this tunnel. I despair at the darkness, and yet I carry a flashlight in my pocket. All I have to do is pull it out and turn it on. It sounds easy enough, but many times I stumble around in darkness, straining to see that light at the end of the tunnel.
The reality is that the light at the end of the tunnel is a myth. It is just as dark outside the tunnel, in any relationship, as it is in the tunnel. There is no magic switch once you get married, to make everything bright, beautiful, and God-honoring. The only benefit is that now you have two flashlights to share.
I know that marriage does not equal happily-ever-after, but I still want it.
As much as I do want it, I want to please my God above all. My mind and thoughts wander to my wants, and by force of will, I turn them back to a focus on God.
All I really want is what my God wants for me.
It is scary to think that my God might want me to serve Him by myself. Sure, it would be hard, but with His help, I know I can tackle anything. Maybe God wants me to become a missionary and go to . . . Brazil or some other country all by myself.
With God I can/will accomplish anything.
This is why I won’t settle. I can’t settle for anything less.
I want someone who loves God just as much as I do. I want what God wants for me, so I want someone who wants what God wants too.
Rule Number One:
Whoever he is, he must know God, love God, and follow God.
So, I wait.
I don’t like it all the time.
There are times when I hate it, but I know that God’s plan is better than anything I can imagine.
So,
I WAIT.
Happy Millenium
Today I turn 8,000.
What have I done with these 8,000?
My conclusion: NOT ENOUGH
What have I accomplished?
Far too little.
I have so many aspirations,
So many dreams.
So many unfulfilled . . .
And yet,
My God is not finished with me yet.
Every new day is one more for Him.
At the very least, I have today.
Right now.
Day 8,000.
A new day.
A new opportunity.
I can’t focus on the past 7,999.
I MUST focus on today.
I MUST draw closer to God.
I MUST become more like Jesus.
I’m 8,000,
And today is the only day I can do anything about.
What have I done with these 8,000?
My conclusion: NOT ENOUGH
What have I accomplished?
Far too little.
I have so many aspirations,
So many dreams.
So many unfulfilled . . .
And yet,
My God is not finished with me yet.
Every new day is one more for Him.
At the very least, I have today.
Right now.
Day 8,000.
A new day.
A new opportunity.
I can’t focus on the past 7,999.
I MUST focus on today.
I MUST draw closer to God.
I MUST become more like Jesus.
I’m 8,000,
And today is the only day I can do anything about.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
The Nature of Beauty
Beauty.
What IS beauty?
(Laughs to self)
I don’t think I’ve ever tried to define it before. I don’t define beauty. I don’t have to.
I just know.
Beauty for me is when something is so well made that it pleases me. It can be seen, yes, but it can also be felt and heard and smelt and even tasted. A sunset appears exquisite. A raindrop feels marvelous. A seagull sounds spectacular. A rose smells wondrous. A banana tastes . . . beautiful.
If you hadn’t already guessed it, I am one of those sensitive souls who see beauty in nature. After all, my God is the Ultimate Beauty, and anything directly from Him retains so much more beauty than anything second hand. Even this fallen world holds more beauty for me than the creations of man. What is more beautiful, the fallen creation of God, or the creations of the fallen creature? I choose nature.
Apart from God Himself, nature best satisfies the ultimate purpose of beauty: the glory of God. The more I study something, the more I come to admire it, the more I enjoy it, and the more beautiful it becomes for me. I pick up a leaf to study it, marvel at its beauty, and to magnify the Great God who created it.
Beauty in nature, beauty in architecture, beauty in ingenuity, beauty in creativity, beauty in man himself. I find that the more I come to know someone, the more I come to love them. Someone who appears less than attractive becomes a radiant light in my life, and the beauty I see radiates from them. I do have people that I would love to hate, but, by the grace of God, I love them dearly. The beauty in their faces stream out to meet me. The beauty in their hearts warms me, as I see them for who they are, loving them despite who they are.
True beauty is found only in God, and the best kinds of beauty are the truest reflections of Him. So, I keep my eye out for anything that I can praise God for.
Some think Jesus might’ve been ugly.
For me, He’s the most beautiful man I’ll ever know.
God’s beauty. I seek it, I search for it, and I want to make beauty for His glory.
What is beauty?
Beauty is that which calls upon us to remember God.
What IS beauty?
(Laughs to self)
I don’t think I’ve ever tried to define it before. I don’t define beauty. I don’t have to.
I just know.
Beauty for me is when something is so well made that it pleases me. It can be seen, yes, but it can also be felt and heard and smelt and even tasted. A sunset appears exquisite. A raindrop feels marvelous. A seagull sounds spectacular. A rose smells wondrous. A banana tastes . . . beautiful.
If you hadn’t already guessed it, I am one of those sensitive souls who see beauty in nature. After all, my God is the Ultimate Beauty, and anything directly from Him retains so much more beauty than anything second hand. Even this fallen world holds more beauty for me than the creations of man. What is more beautiful, the fallen creation of God, or the creations of the fallen creature? I choose nature.
Apart from God Himself, nature best satisfies the ultimate purpose of beauty: the glory of God. The more I study something, the more I come to admire it, the more I enjoy it, and the more beautiful it becomes for me. I pick up a leaf to study it, marvel at its beauty, and to magnify the Great God who created it.
Beauty in nature, beauty in architecture, beauty in ingenuity, beauty in creativity, beauty in man himself. I find that the more I come to know someone, the more I come to love them. Someone who appears less than attractive becomes a radiant light in my life, and the beauty I see radiates from them. I do have people that I would love to hate, but, by the grace of God, I love them dearly. The beauty in their faces stream out to meet me. The beauty in their hearts warms me, as I see them for who they are, loving them despite who they are.
True beauty is found only in God, and the best kinds of beauty are the truest reflections of Him. So, I keep my eye out for anything that I can praise God for.
Some think Jesus might’ve been ugly.
For me, He’s the most beautiful man I’ll ever know.
God’s beauty. I seek it, I search for it, and I want to make beauty for His glory.
What is beauty?
Beauty is that which calls upon us to remember God.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Classroom Organization & Management Rap
Thanks to my COM class, and the student leader, my group and I had to write a rap based on some student discipline methodologies we have looked at. The following is my group's product. Get a beat going in your head, and have fun rapping away.
So, I came to school
Looking for fun.
I wasn't real bad
No knife, no gun.
All I really had
Was some chewing gum,
But the teacher flipped out,
"Hey kid, you're done!"
I tried to argue back,
But the teacher wouldn't give
She sent me to the Principal.
I hope I'll live.
Capital punishment
For minimal crime,
And now I 'm sitting here
Just wasting
my
time.
So, I came to school
Looking for fun.
I wasn't real bad
No knife, no gun.
All I really had
Was some chewing gum,
But the teacher flipped out,
"Hey kid, you're done!"
I tried to argue back,
But the teacher wouldn't give
She sent me to the Principal.
I hope I'll live.
Capital punishment
For minimal crime,
And now I 'm sitting here
Just wasting
my
time.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Blessed Be the Name of the Lord!
My Blessed Redeemer knows exactly what He is doing. Looking back on these past days, weeks, months, and even years, I realize that my Gracious Father has been preparing my heart for such a time as this. I am the weakest vessel, and yet He chooses to use me. I try to package myself with spiritual fluff so that my fragile faith will not crack. My heart has been strong, as hearts go, but in Christ I have been too weak. Slowly, my Awesome God has been blowing away my fluffy comfort. Before you think that I eagerly sloughed it off, know that I clung to my spiritual fluff as a child clings to cotton candy. The sickly sweetness can be enjoyable, but it doesn’t last. Like cotton candy, the sweet fluff melts fast, the sweetness doesn’t last, and all you are left with is a sticky mess and cavities. The cavities of my own righteousness were eating into me. And now, the Great Physician, the Orthodontist of my soul has stripped away my candy. That was only the first step. Next, He drilled out the disease in me. Losing the candy was simply discomforting. The drilling was painful. The corruption that I had learned not only to live with, but also to love, was being removed, and the removal required deep invasions. Some areas required root canals, reaching deep into my heart and tearing my selfishness out by its roots. At first, losing myself was terrifying, but I have learned to glory in it. To God be the glory, great things He has done!
The sticky sweetness that had clung to my face and hands, collecting dirt & dust, was wiped away by the blood of Christ, my Savior. My selfish corruption was drilled away by loving hands. These same loving hands knew my pain exactly. Christ had abandoned His own life, suffering the drilling of nails into His own hands and His own feet. My Beloved Jesus gave His precious life for me, the most selfish sinner. I owe Him my life, my heart, my all.
My own cotton candy satisfaction could not last. The Creator God rescued me from my self, washed my face, and drilled away my corruption. Praise God, He didn’t stop there. The Great and Powerful King of the Universe filled my holes with Himself. Fillings of the purest gold. My life has been infused with the richness of God Himself.
The present discomforting situation has brought tears to my eyes and my heart to my throat. At first, it felt as though I were choking on my own heart. Silly me, my mighty God was simply trying to bring my heart to my mouth, and I kept trying to swallow it again. So now, I‘m wearing my heart on my sleeve, or rather, in my mouth. Wherever my heart is at the moment, it is content in God, much more visible, and it is even audible. My heart speaks the Glory and Greatness of the Almighty God! He has cleansed me, drilled me, filled me, and He maintains me. After the drilling and filling, He established braces! Ah! The wonderful pain of constant reminders of the straight way. The Bible urges me to the righteousness of God. God’s children point me right, and they latch onto me, pulling me, until I have no choice but to slowly move towards the blessed righteousness of my Righteous God. If all I had was myself, I would have broken teeth, broken potshards covered in fluff.
By the grace of God, He has covered my frail vessel with Gold. How can I not shine? I was put through the fire, but the Gold can’t melt. The topsoil of my soul was washed away, and just when I despaired at the loss, I realized that I was set firm on the Solid Rock. Who can shake me now?
The mouth full of broken and decaying teeth is now built up and fortified in Christ alone! My hope is found! He is my Light, my Strength, my Song! This Cornerstone, this Solid Ground, firm through the fiercest drought and storm!
My mouth of deceptive fluff is now filled and fortified by Christ. I must smile. My heart of selfishness is being stripped away. My securities have been whittled away, one-by-one, until all I have left is God. Sure, the times are tough, but my God is tougher. Who better to rely on than God? He is all I have left to rely on. Believe me, He is ENOUGH!
In the months leading up to my sister’s hospitalization, I began to feel unsettled with the world. I looked at my past, my present, and my future. Neither one was 100% for God. Instead of changing, I began judging the world. It was far easier to point out the flaws of the world than to point out & change my own.
My sin-smeared heart cried out, and I began the crawl to the Throne of God. My heart & flesh cried out for the Living God! I thirsted to know Him more. I fought against the distractions of the world.
My Loving God has been ministering to me, stirring at my heart, pouring love into my veins, and helping me to develop my talents.
My generous God sent people to me. My sister Naomi: my best friend, and my encouragement. My roommate, Lucy, who loves me dearly (I love Lucy). Countless friends sent from God for the purpose of strengthening my heart. God even had my friend Annapurna give me a great tool of introspection: My sketch diary, Mirror. I am filling it with reflections of my soul. My basest desire to have God & only God, is depicted with pencil & paper.
I learned soon enough that desiring only God changes things. My priorities (both good & bad) came to light, and I cried out to God because of my unfaithfulness. I determined to place Him first, not just in my heart, but first in my mind, first in my mouth, and first in my life.
It is all well & good when everything is well & good. Though my devotion was deep, it was mostly untested. So, God threw me a curveball—Sunday night—By the way, your baby sister is in the hospital. I had no room to fall, because I was already face-down on the Rock. My first reaction: Your will alone. All I want, all I need, is the will of God. My heart cried out, “My Pinky! My Joe! Lord! It should be me instead! O Lord! My Abi! But no, Abi is not mine, she never was, she is Yours alone! Let Your will be done, and I will be content! I defy my selfish desires! Do what accomplishes Your purpose! Your will alone!
Fear fights at me almost constantly. My heart jumps at the unknown, and I sternly remind it that God is in control. Your will alone!
I found out the news on Sunday the 5th of October. God was working to prepare me even before then. I haven’t worn my desert camouflage jacket much since I arrived at college two years ago. A few weeks ago, I felt that I was preparing for battle. I wasn’t sure what kind of battle I was preparing for, but I put on my camo jacket. On Saturday, by the grace of God, Annapurna’s magnets drew her up to where I was working in the Writing Center. (Believe it or not, God blesses & uses the Writing Center for His good purpose. You should visit it sometime.) Annapurna’s project wasn’t due for a couple of weeks, but God knew what was coming my way, and He sent her to prepare me. The project was to write a poem based on a Psalm. Annapurna believes that she can’t write poetry, so I talked her through it. For some odd reason, (Hmmm . . . could this be God at work?) I randomly selected Psalm 42. You should read it. We talked through the whole thing. God was at work, preparing my heart. The next day in church, one hymn in particular pierced me.
Day by day & with each passing moment,
Strength I find to meet my trials here;
Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment,
I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.
He whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what He deems best—
Lovingly, it’s part of pain & pleasure or for fear.
He whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what He deems best—
Lovingly, it’s part of pain & pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace & rest.
My accompanying katroonie in my journal has me face down in my Bible saying, “All I need is strength for today.”
That was the night I found out about Abi. I wasn’t particularly worried. I was more afraid for Abi, spending the night in the hospital. I was shaken a bit, but I was trying not to worry, which is my natural response.
On Monday, she spiked a fever of 106.7. I found out late that night. Fear threatened to choke me. My sister could die! This was a large step from a simple boil. I was scared. My brain did not want to function on a school level. I finished a paper & took a test the next day. Understanding Science. It wasn’t a hard test, but (owing to the circumstances) I had studied very little. My heart kept jumping to fear, and I had to stop and rebuke it. I was the last person to finish my test, which isn’t that unheard of for me. All I wanted to do was pray, and I wasn’t sure how to tell anybody about it. I’m sure my friend Carter thought I was stressed about the test. All I wanted to do was be with my family, and to talk about it could make it more real. If I told anyone, my mind would fly out the window and any focus I had on school would be gone.
Studying became harder as Abi’s condition continued to worsen. Thankfully, God’s providence allowed Bible Conference to come, and the weight of classes was relieved. As Naomi & I talked with our parents, we cried. However, we did not despair. They told us about their new mission field in Seattle Children’s Hospital.
Blessed be the Name of the Lord!
My Mommy told me that they are looking to God for strength day by day. Hmmm. . . this reminds me of a hymn. If God, “Gives unto each day what He deems best,” then I will trust Him.
Tuesday and Wednesday are somewhat of a blur, but I do remember that the chapel messages on Wednesday and Thursday were about Psalm 42, which I attribute that to God alone. Great messages. Wednesday our dorm mom woke us up to call our Daddy. The news was that the doctors had to cut out some of Abi’s lips and cheeks. Since I was up so early, I went to breakfast. I sat down, and was surrounded by friends. We talked like normal, but I was distracted. It felt nice to talk normally, but I felt like I was betraying my sister by having a mostly meaningless conversation while she was in such a terrible situation. When Naomi came in red-eyed and crying, people began to realize that something was wrong. My friend SClaggs came over and prayed with us, and then more people realized that something was up. Then, we asked Credo to let people know. Ah, the wonders of Facebook. Within the hour, hundreds of people had been messaged to pray.
I couldn’t stand being indoors for very long, so I went for multiple walks. This was also partly because I didn’t want to be caught in my room as open dorms were taking place.
I sat by the pond and journaled until I started to cry. I moved into the woods. The enormous impact that this would have on Abi’s future life scared me, and I wasn’t even sure that she would even survive. I cried for Abi. My Awesome Creator God knew my pain. He led my friend Becky to call me. We hadn’t talked for three years, but she had hunted down my number and called me. Omniscient God knew that I was having a tough time. After hanging up with Becky, I wandered up to the soccer fields where my friends Jeremy and Alyssa called me over. They talked about it with me and prayed about it with me. God is so good to me! I spent time praying and bawling in the woods, pouring myself out before the One and Only God. I could do nothing more than acknowledge His power and preeminence. So, I did that, for a long time.
When I finally calmed down a bit, I decided to head back towards my dorm. On my way by the pond, my friend King called me over, we talked about it, and he prayed about it. It is so encouraging to see my Father God at work in the lives of His children.
That night I went to church and was encouraged by all the support they gave. The request had been sent around the prayer chain, and many people came up to ask me how Abi was doing. The Gopher Buddies were particularly cute, and Debbie even let me have their huge artwork that they painted last week. I took it home and hung it on the biggest piece of open wall I could find (which was in the lounge). There’s just something about the artwork of a child that is beautiful.
On Thursday, I went to chapel and workshops, but I was so tired, and I almost fell asleep in both. Just before 3 that afternoon, my dorm mom came to tell Naomi and me that we were flying out to be with our family. I’m not sure what my first reaction was. Probably fear, but I was also stressed, overwhelmed, happy, worried, and upset. We called my Daddy to hear it from him, and while we were talking with him, I began writing a list of everything that I needed to accomplish before leaving. I had also started crying. As soon as we hung up, I started metaphorically running. I got a written copy of Naomi’s work hours in the kitchen and a copy of mine and I walked over to let them know. I figured that I should do that first because I wasn’t going to be working that night as scheduled, and they would need a line server by 4. I was crying pretty badly at this point. I walked right through the girls’ soccer team and into the kitchen. My friend Brittany found me, hugged me, and took care of everything. My friend Julee prayed with us right there in the kitchen. I also said goodbye to my friend Aaron, and my friend Christina. I meant to say goodbye to my friend Carter, but I had started bawling again and I forgot. He tells me that the milk of human kindness flows through my veins. I would hope so especially now, because my heart is bleeding all over the place. I would hope that kindness is all that comes out.
I began my packing process, and so many people gathered around to help. My friend Lydia even went to hunt down some oatmeal raisin cookies for me. I had a whole committee to help me pack clothes that could match, because I was in no state of mind to be thinking about that. My roommate let me borrow some of her Christian themed t-shirts so I could wear them in the hospital.
At 4 we had a prayer meeting. Upon hearing the news at 3, some girls in the dorm had organized a prayer meeting for 4. So, we had a group of 30 some people, including a handful of guys. My friend Susan read some Scripture, we prayed, and we sang a song. We Will Glorify! It’s a good song.
Then, Naomi and I found out the plan. My friend Mark Steckiel was going to drive us, and fly with us. We were leaving at 6. It was 5. Naomi and a group decided to go to dinner. I decided that I should, but I didn’t have enough time. I continued packing in the hope that I could get everything accomplished and not forget anything important. I think I did a good job. I can’t think of anything expressly important that I forgot. I was finished a little bit before 6, and I received a text message from Uncle Mark. He changed the departure time from 6 to 6:30, so I went over to dinner. It was really nice to just sit and be with friends.
We finished dinner, finished packing, loaded up, and were on our way. We drove to Philly that night and stayed at a really nice hotel. As we were standing in the lobby, Naomi commented that she felt underdressed, I told her I felt like a bum. God was still at work. In case I doubted it, He reminded us very strongly when the desk clerk asked how she could pray for us. Blessed be the Name of the Lord! The room was also really nice. Naomi and I each had our own bed, and there was a large plasma TV in the room. We turned it on for a few minutes just to say we had watched it, but we were too tired.
The next morning, we woke up at 4:45 and headed to the airport. Praise God, we had no problems getting everything figured out and making it to our gate. We flew to Texas where we talked with our parents and multiple others, giving updates. Then, we made our last flight to Seattle. At this point, I was just floating along.
I was so anxious to see my family and to be with them. My heart rejoiced to finally sit in the ICU waiting area and hear how Abi was doing so well. The doctor came out of surgery smiling! My Beloved God answered so many prayers! Abi took a turn for the better!
Turn by turn the Lord gave us blessings. Not only was Abi doing better, but the family of God was so evident to us. We discovered a Facebook Group, whose members were dedicating 24 hours to fast for Abi and pray for Abi. I bawled again. You know, some people don’t believe that I cry very often. I do. Most often lately, I cry because God and His children are so beautiful to me!
Every day we hear more stories about people who are praying for us. I love to whisper in Abi’s ear how she will not know until Heaven how many people are praying for her.
I was able to see my older sister Beka again. I haven’t seen her for 2 years, not even since she got married a year ago. So many people visited in the hospital waiting room. On Saturday the 11th of October Abi was doing so well. With all the drugs in her, she shouldn’t have been responsive, but she opened her eyes, recognized us, and even nodded or shook her head to answer questions. She got excited and tried to move around and sit up. Only 3 people could visit her at a time, so we had 12 people trek through in threes to see her, and she responded to all of them.
My heart and mind were doing great. I was trusting completely in the sovereignty of God. When you’re laid out flat on your back, it’s easy to look up.
And then, Monday hit. Monday was my day to cry. The water balloon of my emotions was pricked, but instead of just leaking, it exploded. I want to be with my family. I think one of the reasons that I feel so badly about this is that this won’t just go away for Abi. I will be going back to BBC and jumping right back into college life, but Abi . . . Pinky, Joe . . . Abi will have to deal with this all day every day.
My life will go on.
Even my parents will have to deal with this all the time.
My life will go on.
Lydia’s life will be so much harder all the time.
My life will go on.
I can go back to school and easily re-immerse myself in my own life.
But, I know their lives won’t be the same, and I can’t/won’t let my life be the same.
I am afraid I will feel guilty when I smile, when I laugh, if I’m happy at all. I want to share the sorrows with my family. I want to be here for them, but I can’t. My life can never be the same. I don’t want to fall back into complacency, but I am afraid that I will swing to the other side and veer toward a social outcast. I’ll have to work on that. I must learn to claim the joy of the Lord as my strength. Joy as strength! I don’t know that I’ve ever thought about that before.
Will I betray Abi, Lydia, and my parents if I go on with life and am happy? No! Only if I forget them! I don’t ever want to forget how hard this long recovery process will be for them! It could be a year of recovery surgeries for Abi. I MUST NOT forget that.
Soon, I will be returning to college, but I leave pieces of my heart and mind with them.
My Lord has proven Himself faithful, I cannot doubt Him now! Now is the time when I need to trust Him the most!
Blessed be the Name of the Lord!
The sticky sweetness that had clung to my face and hands, collecting dirt & dust, was wiped away by the blood of Christ, my Savior. My selfish corruption was drilled away by loving hands. These same loving hands knew my pain exactly. Christ had abandoned His own life, suffering the drilling of nails into His own hands and His own feet. My Beloved Jesus gave His precious life for me, the most selfish sinner. I owe Him my life, my heart, my all.
My own cotton candy satisfaction could not last. The Creator God rescued me from my self, washed my face, and drilled away my corruption. Praise God, He didn’t stop there. The Great and Powerful King of the Universe filled my holes with Himself. Fillings of the purest gold. My life has been infused with the richness of God Himself.
The present discomforting situation has brought tears to my eyes and my heart to my throat. At first, it felt as though I were choking on my own heart. Silly me, my mighty God was simply trying to bring my heart to my mouth, and I kept trying to swallow it again. So now, I‘m wearing my heart on my sleeve, or rather, in my mouth. Wherever my heart is at the moment, it is content in God, much more visible, and it is even audible. My heart speaks the Glory and Greatness of the Almighty God! He has cleansed me, drilled me, filled me, and He maintains me. After the drilling and filling, He established braces! Ah! The wonderful pain of constant reminders of the straight way. The Bible urges me to the righteousness of God. God’s children point me right, and they latch onto me, pulling me, until I have no choice but to slowly move towards the blessed righteousness of my Righteous God. If all I had was myself, I would have broken teeth, broken potshards covered in fluff.
By the grace of God, He has covered my frail vessel with Gold. How can I not shine? I was put through the fire, but the Gold can’t melt. The topsoil of my soul was washed away, and just when I despaired at the loss, I realized that I was set firm on the Solid Rock. Who can shake me now?
The mouth full of broken and decaying teeth is now built up and fortified in Christ alone! My hope is found! He is my Light, my Strength, my Song! This Cornerstone, this Solid Ground, firm through the fiercest drought and storm!
My mouth of deceptive fluff is now filled and fortified by Christ. I must smile. My heart of selfishness is being stripped away. My securities have been whittled away, one-by-one, until all I have left is God. Sure, the times are tough, but my God is tougher. Who better to rely on than God? He is all I have left to rely on. Believe me, He is ENOUGH!
In the months leading up to my sister’s hospitalization, I began to feel unsettled with the world. I looked at my past, my present, and my future. Neither one was 100% for God. Instead of changing, I began judging the world. It was far easier to point out the flaws of the world than to point out & change my own.
My sin-smeared heart cried out, and I began the crawl to the Throne of God. My heart & flesh cried out for the Living God! I thirsted to know Him more. I fought against the distractions of the world.
My Loving God has been ministering to me, stirring at my heart, pouring love into my veins, and helping me to develop my talents.
My generous God sent people to me. My sister Naomi: my best friend, and my encouragement. My roommate, Lucy, who loves me dearly (I love Lucy). Countless friends sent from God for the purpose of strengthening my heart. God even had my friend Annapurna give me a great tool of introspection: My sketch diary, Mirror. I am filling it with reflections of my soul. My basest desire to have God & only God, is depicted with pencil & paper.
I learned soon enough that desiring only God changes things. My priorities (both good & bad) came to light, and I cried out to God because of my unfaithfulness. I determined to place Him first, not just in my heart, but first in my mind, first in my mouth, and first in my life.
It is all well & good when everything is well & good. Though my devotion was deep, it was mostly untested. So, God threw me a curveball—Sunday night—By the way, your baby sister is in the hospital. I had no room to fall, because I was already face-down on the Rock. My first reaction: Your will alone. All I want, all I need, is the will of God. My heart cried out, “My Pinky! My Joe! Lord! It should be me instead! O Lord! My Abi! But no, Abi is not mine, she never was, she is Yours alone! Let Your will be done, and I will be content! I defy my selfish desires! Do what accomplishes Your purpose! Your will alone!
Fear fights at me almost constantly. My heart jumps at the unknown, and I sternly remind it that God is in control. Your will alone!
I found out the news on Sunday the 5th of October. God was working to prepare me even before then. I haven’t worn my desert camouflage jacket much since I arrived at college two years ago. A few weeks ago, I felt that I was preparing for battle. I wasn’t sure what kind of battle I was preparing for, but I put on my camo jacket. On Saturday, by the grace of God, Annapurna’s magnets drew her up to where I was working in the Writing Center. (Believe it or not, God blesses & uses the Writing Center for His good purpose. You should visit it sometime.) Annapurna’s project wasn’t due for a couple of weeks, but God knew what was coming my way, and He sent her to prepare me. The project was to write a poem based on a Psalm. Annapurna believes that she can’t write poetry, so I talked her through it. For some odd reason, (Hmmm . . . could this be God at work?) I randomly selected Psalm 42. You should read it. We talked through the whole thing. God was at work, preparing my heart. The next day in church, one hymn in particular pierced me.
Day by day & with each passing moment,
Strength I find to meet my trials here;
Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment,
I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.
He whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what He deems best—
Lovingly, it’s part of pain & pleasure or for fear.
He whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what He deems best—
Lovingly, it’s part of pain & pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace & rest.
My accompanying katroonie in my journal has me face down in my Bible saying, “All I need is strength for today.”
That was the night I found out about Abi. I wasn’t particularly worried. I was more afraid for Abi, spending the night in the hospital. I was shaken a bit, but I was trying not to worry, which is my natural response.
On Monday, she spiked a fever of 106.7. I found out late that night. Fear threatened to choke me. My sister could die! This was a large step from a simple boil. I was scared. My brain did not want to function on a school level. I finished a paper & took a test the next day. Understanding Science. It wasn’t a hard test, but (owing to the circumstances) I had studied very little. My heart kept jumping to fear, and I had to stop and rebuke it. I was the last person to finish my test, which isn’t that unheard of for me. All I wanted to do was pray, and I wasn’t sure how to tell anybody about it. I’m sure my friend Carter thought I was stressed about the test. All I wanted to do was be with my family, and to talk about it could make it more real. If I told anyone, my mind would fly out the window and any focus I had on school would be gone.
Studying became harder as Abi’s condition continued to worsen. Thankfully, God’s providence allowed Bible Conference to come, and the weight of classes was relieved. As Naomi & I talked with our parents, we cried. However, we did not despair. They told us about their new mission field in Seattle Children’s Hospital.
Blessed be the Name of the Lord!
My Mommy told me that they are looking to God for strength day by day. Hmmm. . . this reminds me of a hymn. If God, “Gives unto each day what He deems best,” then I will trust Him.
Tuesday and Wednesday are somewhat of a blur, but I do remember that the chapel messages on Wednesday and Thursday were about Psalm 42, which I attribute that to God alone. Great messages. Wednesday our dorm mom woke us up to call our Daddy. The news was that the doctors had to cut out some of Abi’s lips and cheeks. Since I was up so early, I went to breakfast. I sat down, and was surrounded by friends. We talked like normal, but I was distracted. It felt nice to talk normally, but I felt like I was betraying my sister by having a mostly meaningless conversation while she was in such a terrible situation. When Naomi came in red-eyed and crying, people began to realize that something was wrong. My friend SClaggs came over and prayed with us, and then more people realized that something was up. Then, we asked Credo to let people know. Ah, the wonders of Facebook. Within the hour, hundreds of people had been messaged to pray.
I couldn’t stand being indoors for very long, so I went for multiple walks. This was also partly because I didn’t want to be caught in my room as open dorms were taking place.
I sat by the pond and journaled until I started to cry. I moved into the woods. The enormous impact that this would have on Abi’s future life scared me, and I wasn’t even sure that she would even survive. I cried for Abi. My Awesome Creator God knew my pain. He led my friend Becky to call me. We hadn’t talked for three years, but she had hunted down my number and called me. Omniscient God knew that I was having a tough time. After hanging up with Becky, I wandered up to the soccer fields where my friends Jeremy and Alyssa called me over. They talked about it with me and prayed about it with me. God is so good to me! I spent time praying and bawling in the woods, pouring myself out before the One and Only God. I could do nothing more than acknowledge His power and preeminence. So, I did that, for a long time.
When I finally calmed down a bit, I decided to head back towards my dorm. On my way by the pond, my friend King called me over, we talked about it, and he prayed about it. It is so encouraging to see my Father God at work in the lives of His children.
That night I went to church and was encouraged by all the support they gave. The request had been sent around the prayer chain, and many people came up to ask me how Abi was doing. The Gopher Buddies were particularly cute, and Debbie even let me have their huge artwork that they painted last week. I took it home and hung it on the biggest piece of open wall I could find (which was in the lounge). There’s just something about the artwork of a child that is beautiful.
On Thursday, I went to chapel and workshops, but I was so tired, and I almost fell asleep in both. Just before 3 that afternoon, my dorm mom came to tell Naomi and me that we were flying out to be with our family. I’m not sure what my first reaction was. Probably fear, but I was also stressed, overwhelmed, happy, worried, and upset. We called my Daddy to hear it from him, and while we were talking with him, I began writing a list of everything that I needed to accomplish before leaving. I had also started crying. As soon as we hung up, I started metaphorically running. I got a written copy of Naomi’s work hours in the kitchen and a copy of mine and I walked over to let them know. I figured that I should do that first because I wasn’t going to be working that night as scheduled, and they would need a line server by 4. I was crying pretty badly at this point. I walked right through the girls’ soccer team and into the kitchen. My friend Brittany found me, hugged me, and took care of everything. My friend Julee prayed with us right there in the kitchen. I also said goodbye to my friend Aaron, and my friend Christina. I meant to say goodbye to my friend Carter, but I had started bawling again and I forgot. He tells me that the milk of human kindness flows through my veins. I would hope so especially now, because my heart is bleeding all over the place. I would hope that kindness is all that comes out.
I began my packing process, and so many people gathered around to help. My friend Lydia even went to hunt down some oatmeal raisin cookies for me. I had a whole committee to help me pack clothes that could match, because I was in no state of mind to be thinking about that. My roommate let me borrow some of her Christian themed t-shirts so I could wear them in the hospital.
At 4 we had a prayer meeting. Upon hearing the news at 3, some girls in the dorm had organized a prayer meeting for 4. So, we had a group of 30 some people, including a handful of guys. My friend Susan read some Scripture, we prayed, and we sang a song. We Will Glorify! It’s a good song.
Then, Naomi and I found out the plan. My friend Mark Steckiel was going to drive us, and fly with us. We were leaving at 6. It was 5. Naomi and a group decided to go to dinner. I decided that I should, but I didn’t have enough time. I continued packing in the hope that I could get everything accomplished and not forget anything important. I think I did a good job. I can’t think of anything expressly important that I forgot. I was finished a little bit before 6, and I received a text message from Uncle Mark. He changed the departure time from 6 to 6:30, so I went over to dinner. It was really nice to just sit and be with friends.
We finished dinner, finished packing, loaded up, and were on our way. We drove to Philly that night and stayed at a really nice hotel. As we were standing in the lobby, Naomi commented that she felt underdressed, I told her I felt like a bum. God was still at work. In case I doubted it, He reminded us very strongly when the desk clerk asked how she could pray for us. Blessed be the Name of the Lord! The room was also really nice. Naomi and I each had our own bed, and there was a large plasma TV in the room. We turned it on for a few minutes just to say we had watched it, but we were too tired.
The next morning, we woke up at 4:45 and headed to the airport. Praise God, we had no problems getting everything figured out and making it to our gate. We flew to Texas where we talked with our parents and multiple others, giving updates. Then, we made our last flight to Seattle. At this point, I was just floating along.
I was so anxious to see my family and to be with them. My heart rejoiced to finally sit in the ICU waiting area and hear how Abi was doing so well. The doctor came out of surgery smiling! My Beloved God answered so many prayers! Abi took a turn for the better!
Turn by turn the Lord gave us blessings. Not only was Abi doing better, but the family of God was so evident to us. We discovered a Facebook Group, whose members were dedicating 24 hours to fast for Abi and pray for Abi. I bawled again. You know, some people don’t believe that I cry very often. I do. Most often lately, I cry because God and His children are so beautiful to me!
Every day we hear more stories about people who are praying for us. I love to whisper in Abi’s ear how she will not know until Heaven how many people are praying for her.
I was able to see my older sister Beka again. I haven’t seen her for 2 years, not even since she got married a year ago. So many people visited in the hospital waiting room. On Saturday the 11th of October Abi was doing so well. With all the drugs in her, she shouldn’t have been responsive, but she opened her eyes, recognized us, and even nodded or shook her head to answer questions. She got excited and tried to move around and sit up. Only 3 people could visit her at a time, so we had 12 people trek through in threes to see her, and she responded to all of them.
My heart and mind were doing great. I was trusting completely in the sovereignty of God. When you’re laid out flat on your back, it’s easy to look up.
And then, Monday hit. Monday was my day to cry. The water balloon of my emotions was pricked, but instead of just leaking, it exploded. I want to be with my family. I think one of the reasons that I feel so badly about this is that this won’t just go away for Abi. I will be going back to BBC and jumping right back into college life, but Abi . . . Pinky, Joe . . . Abi will have to deal with this all day every day.
My life will go on.
Even my parents will have to deal with this all the time.
My life will go on.
Lydia’s life will be so much harder all the time.
My life will go on.
I can go back to school and easily re-immerse myself in my own life.
But, I know their lives won’t be the same, and I can’t/won’t let my life be the same.
I am afraid I will feel guilty when I smile, when I laugh, if I’m happy at all. I want to share the sorrows with my family. I want to be here for them, but I can’t. My life can never be the same. I don’t want to fall back into complacency, but I am afraid that I will swing to the other side and veer toward a social outcast. I’ll have to work on that. I must learn to claim the joy of the Lord as my strength. Joy as strength! I don’t know that I’ve ever thought about that before.
Will I betray Abi, Lydia, and my parents if I go on with life and am happy? No! Only if I forget them! I don’t ever want to forget how hard this long recovery process will be for them! It could be a year of recovery surgeries for Abi. I MUST NOT forget that.
Soon, I will be returning to college, but I leave pieces of my heart and mind with them.
My Lord has proven Himself faithful, I cannot doubt Him now! Now is the time when I need to trust Him the most!
Blessed be the Name of the Lord!
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Jesus is Perfect
My youngest sister Abi (13) is in the hospital, and this is a poem that she wrote about 4 years ago.
Jesus is Perfect,
Jesus is Fine,
Jesus is Wonderful,
His Heart Divine.
Jesus is Awesome,
Great in Power.
Jesus is with me
in the darkest hour.
He will be with me
for ever and ever.
He will not leave me,
Never ever.
Jesus is Perfect,
Jesus is Fine,
Jesus is Wonderful,
His Heart Divine.
Jesus is Awesome,
Great in Power.
Jesus is with me
in the darkest hour.
He will be with me
for ever and ever.
He will not leave me,
Never ever.
A Little About Me
I was looking for a good way to begin a blog about my heart, when a friend asked me a good question. Here are my thoughts.
When you look in the mirror, what do you see? Or, alternatively, who are you?
When I first began thinking about how to answer this question, I thought of many responses. Some might answer along the lines of the M2M song, “Mirror, mirror, lie to me. Show me what I want to see.” Do, I want a flattering lie?
No. I want the truth, no matter how painful.
Truth is not easy to find. The truth is especially difficult to face when it is painful. But, again, I want the blunt and bitter truth. No matter how much it hurts.
When I look in a mirror, I see myself, the physical representation of myself. Is this me? Is my physical appearance who I am? No. My appearance, by definition, is how I appear. While I have a physical appearance, I also have an appearance based on what people see and hear of me. Is that all there is? It can’t be. I know that there is more to me than what is seen. So, can the people who just see me, really know who I am? Or, are they only seeing a part of me? Or are there two parts to me: the visible and the internal? Am I who I am inside or how I act? Why is it called “acting” anyways? This implies that I am merely presenting something that isn’t me.
I am, first and foremost, a child of the King, and I would hope that my faith in God would be evident always to myself and to others. Sadly, I am often a disobedient child. Whether just in my heart, or in my deeds, I sin.
I wrestle with self-righteousness, anger, despair, self-assurance, self-reliance, jealousy, impatience, self-righteousness, cowardice, rebellion, pride, hopelessness, stubbornness, lies, and even (dare I record it?) impure thoughts. Just to name a few flaws.
When I have a decision to make, I choose only myself so often it has become second nature. And, if that isn’t bad enough, I think I’m better than everyone else. You’d think that admitting my faults would be humbling, but somehow I can convince myself that I am holier-than-thou for admitting them where others won’t. Yeah, I am so holy that I can’t even get confessing my sins right.
Self-righteousness is my nemesis, the antagonist in the story of my life. I grew up in a Christian home, was saved at a young age, and grew up as an MK to top it off. I should at least be a good person. Yet, I constantly struggle to put others first. I judge others so easily. I should act in love, yet I somehow simply pronounce judgment and even disperse condemnation with no thought of love. I want my love of others to burn in me so that I have to share it or burn up. They should know how much I do care for them. My friendships should be about my friends. It shouldn’t be about me.
I find myself trying to appear so righteous. This false-righteousness becomes my own righteousness, which is worthless. I have to plan, strategize and actually think ahead to keep myself from falling prey to my desire to appear holy. I encounter this foe so often, I know where I am weakest, and yet I still fall. I still center on myself. Why am I so focused on myself? Which part of me is the part that reflects my own image back into my vision so constantly? I wish I knew which part of me leads me to focus on myself. I want to cut it out, cut myself out. I practically scream inside at the torment when I realize that I have cut my Savior out instead. The next moment, I do it again without a thought.
I am the worst sinner (and I am not fishing for a compliment). I am not the kind of person who laments. “I am fat!” just to get someone else to assure them, “You are not fat!” My hatred is aimed at my failures. Failure is so common to me. It is only through the great love of God, through Christ’s atoning blood, that I am forgiven. When I express my own lowly and sinful state, it is a testament to the awesome, great, and mighty works of God. Only God Himself could have saved me. I am so glad that my salvation is not dependent on my good works, because they are too few.
Ah! You would think that someone as self-righteous as I am would have a little more pride, but no! I am a living paradox. I want recognition for how holy I am, but I despise compliments (mostly because I am suspicious of flattery or sarcasm). I do not take compliments well. Genuine admiration even embarrasses me. I trade a sincere compliment with a nonchalant reply. Sometimes, I manage to insult the person who pays me a sincere compliment. Why am I so focused on myself? I do not even like myself that much. I either love myself too much, or I hate myself.
In my heart, I want to serve God wholeheartedly, but it is a constant battle. I say things I should not, I do not say things I should say. How can anyone really know me?
If someone knew who I was and saw how I appear, would they be able to tell the difference? I would hope not. I want to be completely genuine and live not as a projection of myself, but as myself.
Who am I? I am a beloved daughter of I AM. I am a child of God, a disciple of Jesus Christ, a terrible sinner saved by grace.
If you want to know me, know this: I was blind and lost, but I am saved by a great and powerful God. My identity lives in Him!
I am IN CHRIST!
When you look in the mirror, what do you see? Or, alternatively, who are you?
When I first began thinking about how to answer this question, I thought of many responses. Some might answer along the lines of the M2M song, “Mirror, mirror, lie to me. Show me what I want to see.” Do, I want a flattering lie?
No. I want the truth, no matter how painful.
Truth is not easy to find. The truth is especially difficult to face when it is painful. But, again, I want the blunt and bitter truth. No matter how much it hurts.
When I look in a mirror, I see myself, the physical representation of myself. Is this me? Is my physical appearance who I am? No. My appearance, by definition, is how I appear. While I have a physical appearance, I also have an appearance based on what people see and hear of me. Is that all there is? It can’t be. I know that there is more to me than what is seen. So, can the people who just see me, really know who I am? Or, are they only seeing a part of me? Or are there two parts to me: the visible and the internal? Am I who I am inside or how I act? Why is it called “acting” anyways? This implies that I am merely presenting something that isn’t me.
I am, first and foremost, a child of the King, and I would hope that my faith in God would be evident always to myself and to others. Sadly, I am often a disobedient child. Whether just in my heart, or in my deeds, I sin.
I wrestle with self-righteousness, anger, despair, self-assurance, self-reliance, jealousy, impatience, self-righteousness, cowardice, rebellion, pride, hopelessness, stubbornness, lies, and even (dare I record it?) impure thoughts. Just to name a few flaws.
When I have a decision to make, I choose only myself so often it has become second nature. And, if that isn’t bad enough, I think I’m better than everyone else. You’d think that admitting my faults would be humbling, but somehow I can convince myself that I am holier-than-thou for admitting them where others won’t. Yeah, I am so holy that I can’t even get confessing my sins right.
Self-righteousness is my nemesis, the antagonist in the story of my life. I grew up in a Christian home, was saved at a young age, and grew up as an MK to top it off. I should at least be a good person. Yet, I constantly struggle to put others first. I judge others so easily. I should act in love, yet I somehow simply pronounce judgment and even disperse condemnation with no thought of love. I want my love of others to burn in me so that I have to share it or burn up. They should know how much I do care for them. My friendships should be about my friends. It shouldn’t be about me.
I find myself trying to appear so righteous. This false-righteousness becomes my own righteousness, which is worthless. I have to plan, strategize and actually think ahead to keep myself from falling prey to my desire to appear holy. I encounter this foe so often, I know where I am weakest, and yet I still fall. I still center on myself. Why am I so focused on myself? Which part of me is the part that reflects my own image back into my vision so constantly? I wish I knew which part of me leads me to focus on myself. I want to cut it out, cut myself out. I practically scream inside at the torment when I realize that I have cut my Savior out instead. The next moment, I do it again without a thought.
I am the worst sinner (and I am not fishing for a compliment). I am not the kind of person who laments. “I am fat!” just to get someone else to assure them, “You are not fat!” My hatred is aimed at my failures. Failure is so common to me. It is only through the great love of God, through Christ’s atoning blood, that I am forgiven. When I express my own lowly and sinful state, it is a testament to the awesome, great, and mighty works of God. Only God Himself could have saved me. I am so glad that my salvation is not dependent on my good works, because they are too few.
Ah! You would think that someone as self-righteous as I am would have a little more pride, but no! I am a living paradox. I want recognition for how holy I am, but I despise compliments (mostly because I am suspicious of flattery or sarcasm). I do not take compliments well. Genuine admiration even embarrasses me. I trade a sincere compliment with a nonchalant reply. Sometimes, I manage to insult the person who pays me a sincere compliment. Why am I so focused on myself? I do not even like myself that much. I either love myself too much, or I hate myself.
In my heart, I want to serve God wholeheartedly, but it is a constant battle. I say things I should not, I do not say things I should say. How can anyone really know me?
If someone knew who I was and saw how I appear, would they be able to tell the difference? I would hope not. I want to be completely genuine and live not as a projection of myself, but as myself.
Who am I? I am a beloved daughter of I AM. I am a child of God, a disciple of Jesus Christ, a terrible sinner saved by grace.
If you want to know me, know this: I was blind and lost, but I am saved by a great and powerful God. My identity lives in Him!
I am IN CHRIST!
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