I fought for a long time the fads of the boob tube. After watching way too much of it as a kid, and then realizing how darn nice it was not to have a TV around I sort of decided the the thing was just evil. The more time I spend away from it the stupider it seems to get.
But we all fall into the clutches of evil sometimes, don't we? LOST: evil. Totally evil. I hated that show before I even knew what it was about. And then it grabbed me by the face and sucked me in. Once I started watching Gilmore Girls from the beginning I didn't want to stop. WOULD Lorelei end up with Luke? What was Rory going to do after College? Drama in Stars Hollow too juicy to pass. Especially on cold winter nights tucked away in a cozy mountain home.
And then came Downton Abbey. Is it Downtown Abbey? Or was it Downton? And what is a downton? Who is Abbey, anyway? And why the heck does EVERYONE watch it and care so much about the happenings of a certain place in England in the early 1900s. It's silly, really: wasting your time on a show that means nothing to your life.
Until my sister convinced me to watch just the first episode since it was there. I sat down to Netflix with a snack at hand planning to shut it off and watch something else in about ten minutes time, when in about nine minutes time I found myself enthralled. And doomed. One month later I released myself from the grasp of Downton Abbey and finished watching every available episode. Instead of thinking about watching it, I find myself just thinking about it. What am I thinking about so often? And why do I like it so much?
Geez.
Will someone tell me when Downton Abbey starts back up again in the States?
I got the first two episodes of this new season about a month ago from someone who downloaded it from the British folks himself. I need more. More more more.
Monday, November 4, 2013
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Please be careful when you break me.
God has an interesting way of working in our lives.
Yes, our choices have a lot to do with our hurts and fears, but God plays a roll in what He allows us to bear or not bear.
So why has He cut my identity down in this one specific way? Why has He allowed for my heart to be pierced by this overwhelming insecurity? Over and over and over again I have prayed, and tried, and journaled, and processed about being forgettable. I work on making better decisions yet I find that I am pierced with the feeling of being that girl that just can't be loved, so she gets pushed to the side to make room for someone more time-worthy, more love-worthy. I am left asking myself what it is that is wrong with me? What did I do wrong this time? Perhaps I am simply not enough... not enough for anyone it seems.
Is God trying to cut me down? I know we must be broken before we can be re-built stronger, but God, you're losing me here. Some people knowingly (albeit subconsciously) walk into situations that will make them feel one way or another. I assure you this is not my case. I assure you I desperately want to stay away from the feeling of being not enough. Then does it make it true? Because I can't seem to stay away from this banner above my head, is it true?
Will God show me that these are lies? When? How? Or do I just have to stand here alone and take the hit each time.
I don't know how to pray my way or work my way through this one. I need help.
Yes, our choices have a lot to do with our hurts and fears, but God plays a roll in what He allows us to bear or not bear.
So why has He cut my identity down in this one specific way? Why has He allowed for my heart to be pierced by this overwhelming insecurity? Over and over and over again I have prayed, and tried, and journaled, and processed about being forgettable. I work on making better decisions yet I find that I am pierced with the feeling of being that girl that just can't be loved, so she gets pushed to the side to make room for someone more time-worthy, more love-worthy. I am left asking myself what it is that is wrong with me? What did I do wrong this time? Perhaps I am simply not enough... not enough for anyone it seems.
Is God trying to cut me down? I know we must be broken before we can be re-built stronger, but God, you're losing me here. Some people knowingly (albeit subconsciously) walk into situations that will make them feel one way or another. I assure you this is not my case. I assure you I desperately want to stay away from the feeling of being not enough. Then does it make it true? Because I can't seem to stay away from this banner above my head, is it true?
Will God show me that these are lies? When? How? Or do I just have to stand here alone and take the hit each time.
I don't know how to pray my way or work my way through this one. I need help.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Why does God favor?
This evening I participated in a Shabbat.
I walked in the door of a stranger's home trailing behind friends of mine and was greeted with, "Shabbat Shalom". We gathered around a table, sang songs in Hebrew, praised the Lord. We shot some wine, broke some bread, and then ate together. The night ended with reading and discussion of Jacob and Esau (a passage I still find perplexing).
At sundown this evening began the Sabbath. Twenty-five hours of peace, shalom.
In a small part of our evening discussion a few of us pondered God's sovereignty and the fact the we just downright don't understand it. Now how could God favor Jacob over Esau, how could God harden the heart of Pharaoh but take Noah and his family to save and reap destruction on the rest of humanity? It makes my heart sad, and in the culture and world I live in, in the only way that my human mind knows how to try and understand God's sovereignty... I just don't get it.
I want to get it, I want to understand it. But do we need God if we understand it?
At this point a very wise woman stood up (not for dramatic effect, but because she needed to stretch her legs, but I like to pretend it was for dramatic effect) and exclaimed that one man she knew lost his home, his entire belongings, his life's work in the recent flood out here in Colorado, while her home was feet (literally feet) away from the river and was completely untouched. It should have been gone. "Does God love me more than He loves him?" She questioned and looked us deeply in the eyes, "No. Absolutely not. Absolutely not." But do we know why one house was destroyed, while the other should have been but wasn't? No. We don't. Every day she puts her key into the door and walks into her home she prays for that friend of her's that lost everything, and she thanks the Lord for His grace.
I don't know why God hardens hearts, and I don't know why he sends floods about the world. I don't know why he favored one brother over the other, and so and and so forth. But I can thank His glorious name for what I have been given in my own life. I can thank Him that He has not hardened my heart, and as I walk into the door of my home or open up my bible I can pray for those who have been hardened. I can take the gift of love that I have been given and spread it. I can ask God for mercy upon those people who's hearts are hard when they don't know how to ask for mercy themselves. Maybe part of why He does it is to bring us outside of ourselves.
If there is one thing about the character of God that I have learned in my short 25 years it is that God greatly loves to listen to the prayers of His people. But God is far outside any box we try to fit Him in. So why does He do it the way He does? I don't know. But I am grateful that I get to pray knowing that His ear tenderly listens.
Lord, I pray for the hearts of the ones you deeply love in this world that have been hardened to you, themselves, their loved ones, and all around them. I pray that you would place divinity and love in the lives of them that chisels away at the hard and the hurt to make them tender again in a beautiful way. I pray that you would place questions in the hearts of ALL of your people, believers and non-believers, and then provide them with truth in a way that speaks to each of them individually in a way that most romances them.
Thank You for life itself, and this Earth we live on.
Amen.
Shabbat Shalom.
I walked in the door of a stranger's home trailing behind friends of mine and was greeted with, "Shabbat Shalom". We gathered around a table, sang songs in Hebrew, praised the Lord. We shot some wine, broke some bread, and then ate together. The night ended with reading and discussion of Jacob and Esau (a passage I still find perplexing).
At sundown this evening began the Sabbath. Twenty-five hours of peace, shalom.
In a small part of our evening discussion a few of us pondered God's sovereignty and the fact the we just downright don't understand it. Now how could God favor Jacob over Esau, how could God harden the heart of Pharaoh but take Noah and his family to save and reap destruction on the rest of humanity? It makes my heart sad, and in the culture and world I live in, in the only way that my human mind knows how to try and understand God's sovereignty... I just don't get it.
I want to get it, I want to understand it. But do we need God if we understand it?
At this point a very wise woman stood up (not for dramatic effect, but because she needed to stretch her legs, but I like to pretend it was for dramatic effect) and exclaimed that one man she knew lost his home, his entire belongings, his life's work in the recent flood out here in Colorado, while her home was feet (literally feet) away from the river and was completely untouched. It should have been gone. "Does God love me more than He loves him?" She questioned and looked us deeply in the eyes, "No. Absolutely not. Absolutely not." But do we know why one house was destroyed, while the other should have been but wasn't? No. We don't. Every day she puts her key into the door and walks into her home she prays for that friend of her's that lost everything, and she thanks the Lord for His grace.
I don't know why God hardens hearts, and I don't know why he sends floods about the world. I don't know why he favored one brother over the other, and so and and so forth. But I can thank His glorious name for what I have been given in my own life. I can thank Him that He has not hardened my heart, and as I walk into the door of my home or open up my bible I can pray for those who have been hardened. I can take the gift of love that I have been given and spread it. I can ask God for mercy upon those people who's hearts are hard when they don't know how to ask for mercy themselves. Maybe part of why He does it is to bring us outside of ourselves.
If there is one thing about the character of God that I have learned in my short 25 years it is that God greatly loves to listen to the prayers of His people. But God is far outside any box we try to fit Him in. So why does He do it the way He does? I don't know. But I am grateful that I get to pray knowing that His ear tenderly listens.
Lord, I pray for the hearts of the ones you deeply love in this world that have been hardened to you, themselves, their loved ones, and all around them. I pray that you would place divinity and love in the lives of them that chisels away at the hard and the hurt to make them tender again in a beautiful way. I pray that you would place questions in the hearts of ALL of your people, believers and non-believers, and then provide them with truth in a way that speaks to each of them individually in a way that most romances them.
Thank You for life itself, and this Earth we live on.
Amen.
Shabbat Shalom.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
The opposing places
Truly I never thought I'd ever find a place so fitting for my soul. As I visited countries and drove to different states, meeting new people in new places I never thought I'd find my heart able to grow attached to a place as I have with a certain mountain-y state called Colorado.
I am approaching my fourth move to Colorado. Yes, that is fourth, as in 1, 2, 3, 4. I visited, I returned with a job, then I returned without a job, then I returned again for fun and found myself with a job and a home and a community and a whole lot of love. Every time I return since I moved away last I am surprised by my reaction when I get back to Colorado. I am surprised at how fitting it all seems, and how comfortable I suddenly am. Here in the Midwest I forget that I am surrounded by communities, GREAT communities at that, but communities that I don't quite jive with or fit into quite as well as I'd like, or quite as well as the people around me do. No matter which friend group I find myself with here I am the oddball. I am okay with that. I am comfortable with that, but I forget how tiresome it can be when I'm back in those mountains and hugging the people in the places that I have been deeply missing for the last year and a half.
I woke up in the mountains this week to a grandiose view of the biggest mountains in Rocky Mountain National Park; I was reminded of God's bigness, and Gods creativity. It's something I've slowly been forgetting here. It's harder to see that creativity in prairie grass and skyscrapers. I search for it within the confines of how good or bad I feel like I am doing on a personal level because that's all I can see here, and that hasn't been such a great place for me to search for Gods bigness, because that's just a small iota of where His hand extends. The mountains remind me that God has His big ol' hands in all of it. They bring me outside of myself and my worries and the perfections and standards I seem to set for myself.
Being in Colorado this last weekend has made me think a lot about the culture of the Midwest and why it is the way it is. We have few things out here that remind us that there is a bigness around us that surpasses what we can see and plan. It then becomes so easy to place so much more value on things that really don't need such heaviness placed upon them. Here we have careers that guide our lives. In the mountains they have lifestyles that guide their lives.
I have been wrestling with why these cultures are so different. Is it place that makes them so different? Is it merely landscape? If we just switched the people in the mountains with the people in the Midwest would their lifestyles change at all? That almost seems to simplistic. Or is there something deeply ingrained in each of us differently, causing us to migrate the way we do nowadays, I to the mountains, and some to the cities.
How does this all work? And how can I convince everyone I love to fall in love with those mountains just as I have so that I can bring them all with me when I settle there forever?
Heaven has those mountains, right? The grass is blue and the mountains are huge.
(That was indeed a reference to there being bluegrass in heaven. There damn well better be.)
I am approaching my fourth move to Colorado. Yes, that is fourth, as in 1, 2, 3, 4. I visited, I returned with a job, then I returned without a job, then I returned again for fun and found myself with a job and a home and a community and a whole lot of love. Every time I return since I moved away last I am surprised by my reaction when I get back to Colorado. I am surprised at how fitting it all seems, and how comfortable I suddenly am. Here in the Midwest I forget that I am surrounded by communities, GREAT communities at that, but communities that I don't quite jive with or fit into quite as well as I'd like, or quite as well as the people around me do. No matter which friend group I find myself with here I am the oddball. I am okay with that. I am comfortable with that, but I forget how tiresome it can be when I'm back in those mountains and hugging the people in the places that I have been deeply missing for the last year and a half.
I woke up in the mountains this week to a grandiose view of the biggest mountains in Rocky Mountain National Park; I was reminded of God's bigness, and Gods creativity. It's something I've slowly been forgetting here. It's harder to see that creativity in prairie grass and skyscrapers. I search for it within the confines of how good or bad I feel like I am doing on a personal level because that's all I can see here, and that hasn't been such a great place for me to search for Gods bigness, because that's just a small iota of where His hand extends. The mountains remind me that God has His big ol' hands in all of it. They bring me outside of myself and my worries and the perfections and standards I seem to set for myself.
Being in Colorado this last weekend has made me think a lot about the culture of the Midwest and why it is the way it is. We have few things out here that remind us that there is a bigness around us that surpasses what we can see and plan. It then becomes so easy to place so much more value on things that really don't need such heaviness placed upon them. Here we have careers that guide our lives. In the mountains they have lifestyles that guide their lives.
I have been wrestling with why these cultures are so different. Is it place that makes them so different? Is it merely landscape? If we just switched the people in the mountains with the people in the Midwest would their lifestyles change at all? That almost seems to simplistic. Or is there something deeply ingrained in each of us differently, causing us to migrate the way we do nowadays, I to the mountains, and some to the cities.
How does this all work? And how can I convince everyone I love to fall in love with those mountains just as I have so that I can bring them all with me when I settle there forever?
Heaven has those mountains, right? The grass is blue and the mountains are huge.
(That was indeed a reference to there being bluegrass in heaven. There damn well better be.)
Monday, May 6, 2013
Where has my Keeper gone?
Today I must be real. Not that I lack the place of truth where my words usually come from, but oftentimes I write upon feeling a romance with life, with God.
Today I feel no romance.
This season I feel no romance.
Practicality strikes again. I say this as though practicalities are a bad thing. I don't believe so, but I do believe my tendencies towards some all-or-nothing extremes make practicalities somewhat burdensome in to my soul, just the way that my adventures end up totally extreme with me alone in a truck stop on the other side of the country alone and penniless. Right now, though, I am not living a life of adventure on the other side of the country. I am right in the middle of the country being as practical as I can.
Daily I pinch my pennies saving for a car. Daily I press my coffee exactly four minutes after it has steeped and leave for work thirty minutes before I must clock in. Daily I search and pray and wonder what the Lord is preparing me for, what I have in my near and far future, and where the hell is this car that I've been trying so hard to buy? I have coupled my prayers with action. That is how it's supposed to go, right? Faith without works is not necessarily dead; God does not work within the confines of our own human minds. After all, He made the hills and the trees, and those kooky clouds in the sky, but I also can't sit on my booty all day and hope that a shiny car gets dropped into my lap (more specifically, a 2002 manual Subaru Impreza Outback Sport under 130,000 miles.. ehm). I must work within what I know how to do and allow God to take care of the parts that I have no control over.
Where had that gotten me?
I had a man sell a car away from me the day I told him I was going to buy it.
Another man told me he would save his car for me so I could drive down to Indianapolis and pick it up, but he sold it to someone anyway before I was going to leave for Indy.
A man at a dealer lied to me telling me he had the car I was looking for, so I drove 30 minutes with every dollar I owned in my glove box only to find out he was lying, and he actually was going to try and sell me a different car.
Another dealer blatantly lied to me multiple times this morning.
Did I ever mention that I actually had a car stolen from me? I have. Cars and me are like oil and water apparently.
In between every almost-purchase I began to leave the thought of buying a car behind. Although Abigail Von Wedge has 226,000 miles on her, radio doesn't work, I climbed in and out the passengers side for three months, she is incredibly loud, and has given me on and of troubles over the winter, I still tried to let go of the thought of a new car. Until the Lord put those new keys in my hand and nudged me to keep hoping.
So keep hoping I have. I have kept and kept and kept until now, I can't keep anymore. I can't keep hoping. I have a chiropractor trying to inject me with local anesthetics to ease the muscle pain that doesn't exist in my neck just so he can charge my insurance company. I have a dentist who seemed so wonderful send me a $180 bill for the "free consultation" I signed up for. I have people lying to me all around me.
I am being lied to, and I am also being left behind. I have friends and family getting jobs, and moving homes, and going on adventures in places I would love to be. God is blessing them immensely and bringing them their hearts desire, their place of thriving. Yet here I am, hoping and struggling to even buy a silly little car. So God, have you forgotten about me? You know the flight of every sparrow, and you count the grains of sand, but are you watching over my life? How come you haven't protected me from the men who have dashed my high hopes at those cars? How come you haven't given me peace about moving forward with anything I have prayed for?
Once again my heart hurts for being a forgettable person. Not only have I been erased from the past of others, but from the thoughts of the God of the Universe. Aren't You supposed to be the ONE in this broken world to whom I can truly feel safe and cared for by? But I don't. I have, I always have, but right now for the first time I don't.
I believe within my heart of hearts that God does not forget us. God does not forget His people. God is not confined to our own boxes and understandings. God is in the details and in the big things. He's in the blades of grass and the snow-capped mountains. God is watching us as we open our eyes every morning and brush our teeth every night. I believe that is the truth EVERY day and ALWAYS.
But my emotions teach me otherwise right now. My emotions are the most tangible thing I can hold on to in a season of life where I can't quite grab anything else.
So in this season of hopelessness, where I feel like God is being just downright forgetful and mean, I ride on my bike into the sunset of these spring evenings with my bible in my saddle bag and a blanket on my back. I marvel at the consistency of the sunset and the blaze of passionate colors that sweep the sky for only minutes. I view the Psalms through the light of my headlamp looking over the silhouette of the field before the sunset, and read aloud:
"I lift up my eyes to the hills,
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot be moved;
he who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, he who keeps Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD is your keeper;
the LORD is your shade on your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The LORD will keep you from all evil,
he will keep your life.
The LORD will keep
your going out and your coming in
from this time forth and forevermore."
-121
"O LORD, God of my salvation;
I cry out day and night before you.
Let my prayer come before you;
incline your ear to my cry!
For my soul is full of troubles..."
-88
"My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there were none of them."
-139
I do not feel. But I can act, and I can see; These things will help me to trust, because sometimes it's just downright hard.
Today I feel no romance.
This season I feel no romance.
Practicality strikes again. I say this as though practicalities are a bad thing. I don't believe so, but I do believe my tendencies towards some all-or-nothing extremes make practicalities somewhat burdensome in to my soul, just the way that my adventures end up totally extreme with me alone in a truck stop on the other side of the country alone and penniless. Right now, though, I am not living a life of adventure on the other side of the country. I am right in the middle of the country being as practical as I can.
Daily I pinch my pennies saving for a car. Daily I press my coffee exactly four minutes after it has steeped and leave for work thirty minutes before I must clock in. Daily I search and pray and wonder what the Lord is preparing me for, what I have in my near and far future, and where the hell is this car that I've been trying so hard to buy? I have coupled my prayers with action. That is how it's supposed to go, right? Faith without works is not necessarily dead; God does not work within the confines of our own human minds. After all, He made the hills and the trees, and those kooky clouds in the sky, but I also can't sit on my booty all day and hope that a shiny car gets dropped into my lap (more specifically, a 2002 manual Subaru Impreza Outback Sport under 130,000 miles.. ehm). I must work within what I know how to do and allow God to take care of the parts that I have no control over.
Where had that gotten me?
I had a man sell a car away from me the day I told him I was going to buy it.
Another man told me he would save his car for me so I could drive down to Indianapolis and pick it up, but he sold it to someone anyway before I was going to leave for Indy.
A man at a dealer lied to me telling me he had the car I was looking for, so I drove 30 minutes with every dollar I owned in my glove box only to find out he was lying, and he actually was going to try and sell me a different car.
Another dealer blatantly lied to me multiple times this morning.
Did I ever mention that I actually had a car stolen from me? I have. Cars and me are like oil and water apparently.
In between every almost-purchase I began to leave the thought of buying a car behind. Although Abigail Von Wedge has 226,000 miles on her, radio doesn't work, I climbed in and out the passengers side for three months, she is incredibly loud, and has given me on and of troubles over the winter, I still tried to let go of the thought of a new car. Until the Lord put those new keys in my hand and nudged me to keep hoping.
So keep hoping I have. I have kept and kept and kept until now, I can't keep anymore. I can't keep hoping. I have a chiropractor trying to inject me with local anesthetics to ease the muscle pain that doesn't exist in my neck just so he can charge my insurance company. I have a dentist who seemed so wonderful send me a $180 bill for the "free consultation" I signed up for. I have people lying to me all around me.
I am being lied to, and I am also being left behind. I have friends and family getting jobs, and moving homes, and going on adventures in places I would love to be. God is blessing them immensely and bringing them their hearts desire, their place of thriving. Yet here I am, hoping and struggling to even buy a silly little car. So God, have you forgotten about me? You know the flight of every sparrow, and you count the grains of sand, but are you watching over my life? How come you haven't protected me from the men who have dashed my high hopes at those cars? How come you haven't given me peace about moving forward with anything I have prayed for?
Once again my heart hurts for being a forgettable person. Not only have I been erased from the past of others, but from the thoughts of the God of the Universe. Aren't You supposed to be the ONE in this broken world to whom I can truly feel safe and cared for by? But I don't. I have, I always have, but right now for the first time I don't.
I believe within my heart of hearts that God does not forget us. God does not forget His people. God is not confined to our own boxes and understandings. God is in the details and in the big things. He's in the blades of grass and the snow-capped mountains. God is watching us as we open our eyes every morning and brush our teeth every night. I believe that is the truth EVERY day and ALWAYS.
But my emotions teach me otherwise right now. My emotions are the most tangible thing I can hold on to in a season of life where I can't quite grab anything else.
So in this season of hopelessness, where I feel like God is being just downright forgetful and mean, I ride on my bike into the sunset of these spring evenings with my bible in my saddle bag and a blanket on my back. I marvel at the consistency of the sunset and the blaze of passionate colors that sweep the sky for only minutes. I view the Psalms through the light of my headlamp looking over the silhouette of the field before the sunset, and read aloud:
"I lift up my eyes to the hills,
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot be moved;
he who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, he who keeps Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD is your keeper;
the LORD is your shade on your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The LORD will keep you from all evil,
he will keep your life.
The LORD will keep
your going out and your coming in
from this time forth and forevermore."
-121
"O LORD, God of my salvation;
I cry out day and night before you.
Let my prayer come before you;
incline your ear to my cry!
For my soul is full of troubles..."
-88
"My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there were none of them."
-139
I do not feel. But I can act, and I can see; These things will help me to trust, because sometimes it's just downright hard.
Monday, April 1, 2013
Oh, happy day.
Anxiety overcame my body upon the thought of signing back onto Facebook. Guys, life is really good without Facebook. Just sayin'.
I henceforth have decided to sign in but once a week. After-all, I do enjoy a little fix now and again. And I like ya'll.
What did happen upon that moment where I clicked that blue box marked, "sign in", on the Facebook home page? I was greeted with these things: Three new friend requests, three new messages, and thirty-eight new notifications. Thirty-eight is a big number to see in the teeny red space there. I should have counted how many of them were Farmville invites (seriously guys?) because they took up a very large majority of those notifications. Farmville? Really? I won't get started. Don't even get me started. Needless to say I missed out on absolutely nothing being off of Facebook for forty days. Actually, I did miss out on a birthday party for one my my sr. high girls at Rez. Super bummed to see that it was a facebook only invite. We should spread the love outside of social media.
Something I missed out on in another way was having people clickity click on my blog posts and read all my ramblings. There's just a nice bit of self satisfaction that settles in when the numbers of my readers jump after I post my latest post on Facebook. I've also noticed that my topics have changed for those forty days. I didn't even realize it until a few days ago. I seem to be writing to an audience that doesn't believe in quite the same things spiritually that I do when I am writing for Facebook. Without you all as my audience I write to no one but myself, the world, and the few people who I know end up read it anyway.
With the audience of Facebook I desire so deeply to spread the love of the God that I know to anyone I can reach.
This is the love of the God that I know.
Most of us know the story of Christ. Most of us know that Christians believe he was killed on a cross, put in a tomb, and then rose from the dead three days later thus saving all of us who choose to follow him from death. Weird story, I know. But what's the big deal other than the whole weird-factor?
Here's the big deal, guys. First of all try not to understand EVERYTHING right now. I know we like to be able to wrap our minds around facts and how things happen specifically and what not, and I don't minimize that. If that's something you want to think about, do, by all means. But for now set it aside and think about the relational part of all of this. Pretend. Kapish?
The God of the world, who created everything around you, and you yourself, has a broken heart for this place because He loves and cares for all of us. But we are imperfect and we do corrupt things sometimes because we do. I could delve deeper into that but I'm trying not to write a book here. How does the God of the world redeem us? How does a Father show is immense love for his children? He becomes human himself, he does the very thing that he was previously unable to do that we do... he dies. He walks the human life to pave a way and an example for us, because a kid without a parent to show rather than just tell is probably a lost kid.
The God of the world dies in the lowliest way. The man highest on the totem pole becomes the most humiliated man in the worst way because no one is too lowly for Him. No one is too broken for him, no one is too anything for Him. That's what He shows us, guys. He goes lower than all of that.
Then He dies. He sufferers immensely and dies at the hands of people who are still not too low for Christ, because no on is. Then, because He is the God of the world He resurrects. His body, his spirit, everything. He is still paving a way.
The Good Friday service at my church was filled with a sanctuary of mourning. We all dressed in black, the cross before us had black fabric draped over the arms, and then two members walked the cross around the congregation as we sat in silence. They lay the cross down on it's back on the stage and each person had a chance to go up, touch it, and pray. I sat there with not much going through my head. I sat there on my knees with my fingertips grazing over the rough wood in the center of this cross overwhelmed with the tears around me, the words being spoken aloud to the the Lord. I closed my eyes and wanted to feel something but I didn't feel anything. Quietly I asked to God, "What do I do?" and immediately I heard within me, "Nothing, look, I've already done it." That was a sense so powerful it brought me to laughter and to tears. It should speak to all of us, I hope. As I strive to prove myself, as I strive to work hard and remain a good and loving person in this world I grow weary. I have grown weary, and God reminds me that I don't need to try so hard all the time. He's already done all the hard work.
That is not to remove all responsibility from myself and from humanity. We do have tremendous responsibility. We are caretakers of this world and of the hearts around us. But above all of that, God is the most. He has done the hardest work of all. Because of that we know that the beauty in this world that we are working towards restoring, God will bring to completion. He shows us that in His resurrection.
I don't know enough about science to prove a God. I don't know enough. But I know what I have felt, and how I believe wholly there is a spiritual realm of this place we live in that captures my heart and wraps me up in a bigness that I can't quite describe. I know that there are mountains, and caves, and colors that come out of this Earth that, to me, show me beauty and show me a God that is creative. I know that I have watched both of my sisters grow children inside of the their own bodies and create a entirely new human! What a world we live in! What a beautiful place this is. How much greater I appreciate it when I know that it gets even better than this.
Easter has never quite meant so much to me as it does this season.
I have endless thoughts on this particular season of life. There's more to come.
Alleluia! Christ is risen! What a happy day. Oh my heart.
I henceforth have decided to sign in but once a week. After-all, I do enjoy a little fix now and again. And I like ya'll.
What did happen upon that moment where I clicked that blue box marked, "sign in", on the Facebook home page? I was greeted with these things: Three new friend requests, three new messages, and thirty-eight new notifications. Thirty-eight is a big number to see in the teeny red space there. I should have counted how many of them were Farmville invites (seriously guys?) because they took up a very large majority of those notifications. Farmville? Really? I won't get started. Don't even get me started. Needless to say I missed out on absolutely nothing being off of Facebook for forty days. Actually, I did miss out on a birthday party for one my my sr. high girls at Rez. Super bummed to see that it was a facebook only invite. We should spread the love outside of social media.
Something I missed out on in another way was having people clickity click on my blog posts and read all my ramblings. There's just a nice bit of self satisfaction that settles in when the numbers of my readers jump after I post my latest post on Facebook. I've also noticed that my topics have changed for those forty days. I didn't even realize it until a few days ago. I seem to be writing to an audience that doesn't believe in quite the same things spiritually that I do when I am writing for Facebook. Without you all as my audience I write to no one but myself, the world, and the few people who I know end up read it anyway.
With the audience of Facebook I desire so deeply to spread the love of the God that I know to anyone I can reach.
This is the love of the God that I know.
Most of us know the story of Christ. Most of us know that Christians believe he was killed on a cross, put in a tomb, and then rose from the dead three days later thus saving all of us who choose to follow him from death. Weird story, I know. But what's the big deal other than the whole weird-factor?
Here's the big deal, guys. First of all try not to understand EVERYTHING right now. I know we like to be able to wrap our minds around facts and how things happen specifically and what not, and I don't minimize that. If that's something you want to think about, do, by all means. But for now set it aside and think about the relational part of all of this. Pretend. Kapish?
The God of the world, who created everything around you, and you yourself, has a broken heart for this place because He loves and cares for all of us. But we are imperfect and we do corrupt things sometimes because we do. I could delve deeper into that but I'm trying not to write a book here. How does the God of the world redeem us? How does a Father show is immense love for his children? He becomes human himself, he does the very thing that he was previously unable to do that we do... he dies. He walks the human life to pave a way and an example for us, because a kid without a parent to show rather than just tell is probably a lost kid.
The God of the world dies in the lowliest way. The man highest on the totem pole becomes the most humiliated man in the worst way because no one is too lowly for Him. No one is too broken for him, no one is too anything for Him. That's what He shows us, guys. He goes lower than all of that.
Then He dies. He sufferers immensely and dies at the hands of people who are still not too low for Christ, because no on is. Then, because He is the God of the world He resurrects. His body, his spirit, everything. He is still paving a way.
The Good Friday service at my church was filled with a sanctuary of mourning. We all dressed in black, the cross before us had black fabric draped over the arms, and then two members walked the cross around the congregation as we sat in silence. They lay the cross down on it's back on the stage and each person had a chance to go up, touch it, and pray. I sat there with not much going through my head. I sat there on my knees with my fingertips grazing over the rough wood in the center of this cross overwhelmed with the tears around me, the words being spoken aloud to the the Lord. I closed my eyes and wanted to feel something but I didn't feel anything. Quietly I asked to God, "What do I do?" and immediately I heard within me, "Nothing, look, I've already done it." That was a sense so powerful it brought me to laughter and to tears. It should speak to all of us, I hope. As I strive to prove myself, as I strive to work hard and remain a good and loving person in this world I grow weary. I have grown weary, and God reminds me that I don't need to try so hard all the time. He's already done all the hard work.
That is not to remove all responsibility from myself and from humanity. We do have tremendous responsibility. We are caretakers of this world and of the hearts around us. But above all of that, God is the most. He has done the hardest work of all. Because of that we know that the beauty in this world that we are working towards restoring, God will bring to completion. He shows us that in His resurrection.
I don't know enough about science to prove a God. I don't know enough. But I know what I have felt, and how I believe wholly there is a spiritual realm of this place we live in that captures my heart and wraps me up in a bigness that I can't quite describe. I know that there are mountains, and caves, and colors that come out of this Earth that, to me, show me beauty and show me a God that is creative. I know that I have watched both of my sisters grow children inside of the their own bodies and create a entirely new human! What a world we live in! What a beautiful place this is. How much greater I appreciate it when I know that it gets even better than this.
Easter has never quite meant so much to me as it does this season.
I have endless thoughts on this particular season of life. There's more to come.
Alleluia! Christ is risen! What a happy day. Oh my heart.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Drool. Drool drool drool.
Check out this awesome blog of a family that is living my future.
Well, I know God will do his own thing with my life, but until then this is what I dream of. THIS IS WHAT I DREAM OF!
[EDIT- I got the dang website wrong. Here's the real deal]
happyjanssens.com
Do it. Do it now. Look at it.
Thank you Ryn Many be for passing along inspiring wonderfulness to my heart.
Well, I know God will do his own thing with my life, but until then this is what I dream of. THIS IS WHAT I DREAM OF!
[EDIT- I got the dang website wrong. Here's the real deal]
happyjanssens.com
Do it. Do it now. Look at it.
Thank you Ryn Many be for passing along inspiring wonderfulness to my heart.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Localism vs. Veganism
Alright folks, I'm ready to do something drastic here. I'm ready to make big changes.
Well... mentally I'm ready. Perhaps not in any other regard yet. Let me 'splain.
This drastic change has to do with food. Read my previous post about my moral dilemma and you'll understand more.
Food is a big deal. It's a big deal to the environment. The question I've been pondering lately is what is the best choice for me to make with my food that does the least impact to the environment, while still supplementing my diet and energy in the way my body needs.
There is, of course, vegan-ism or vegetarianism. I used to think they were a little extreme to go all that way for animal rights, but honestly, I'm feeling it. I see it. And just because the animal is not slaughtered for meat, but is used for it's byproducts, doesn't necessarily mean it's treated any better. So if I would go vegetarian for creation care reasons, then I would really just need to go all the way vegan for my own personal understanding of the way this whole animals business works.
But then what? A vegan diet would consist (for me) of a lot of nuts, and seeds, and beans because I need quite a bit of protein. Of course I'd have my fill of leafy greens and fruits and veggies. I already do, as I love these foods. But how far do those seeds travel to get to me? The almonds were grown in California, and then shipped to Somewhere to be pulverized and made into almond milk and then gets put in containers made in Nebraska (I'm halfway making these places up, I don't know where it all happens but I know it's far away). All of these things have to be shipped DAILY from one place to another in MASS amounts to feed us. Now that's not good for the environment either. Mass slaughterhouses are terrible for the environment and they treat animals horribly. Almond farms come from far, far away and must be shipped and driven, and that's not a very friendly carbon footprint either.
The other option I contemplate is going local. Honestly, that's the top choice in my book. I buy local and I can see the hands of the farmer that butchered the cow I eat and raises the chickens whose eggs I have for breakfast. I can know what he does to them and what he puts in them. I can look into the eyes of the fellow who grew my tomatoes and planted the lettuce for my salad. That seems exactly like how it's supposed to happen. AND that means I wouldn't have to give up meat and cheese and eggs and all those yummy things. But local eating isn't that easy year-round here in the Chicago. Local eating can be done, albeit expensively, in the summer and spring time. After the harvest is over the farmers markets are few and far between, and then what?
I then think of all of the difficulties and lengths I would have to go to for something like that. That would mean no more things that only grow in far away places such as almonds, and bananas, kiwi, pineapple, and a LOT of other things. At least two of those things are a current staple in my diet. I couldn't get fruits in the winter time unless I canned them or froze them.
I'm sure you're all thinking I'm a bit extreme here. I should go local when I can, and then once I can't I've done my duty, right? I just can't see it that way. I want to do all that I can, and I want to start now. I want to choose what is best for myself and for this planet that the Lord has gifted us with.
So what do you think? Vegan or local? I don't care if vegan-ism seems totally outrageous to you. Strictly on an environmental level, what's better?
Well... mentally I'm ready. Perhaps not in any other regard yet. Let me 'splain.
This drastic change has to do with food. Read my previous post about my moral dilemma and you'll understand more.
Food is a big deal. It's a big deal to the environment. The question I've been pondering lately is what is the best choice for me to make with my food that does the least impact to the environment, while still supplementing my diet and energy in the way my body needs.
There is, of course, vegan-ism or vegetarianism. I used to think they were a little extreme to go all that way for animal rights, but honestly, I'm feeling it. I see it. And just because the animal is not slaughtered for meat, but is used for it's byproducts, doesn't necessarily mean it's treated any better. So if I would go vegetarian for creation care reasons, then I would really just need to go all the way vegan for my own personal understanding of the way this whole animals business works.
But then what? A vegan diet would consist (for me) of a lot of nuts, and seeds, and beans because I need quite a bit of protein. Of course I'd have my fill of leafy greens and fruits and veggies. I already do, as I love these foods. But how far do those seeds travel to get to me? The almonds were grown in California, and then shipped to Somewhere to be pulverized and made into almond milk and then gets put in containers made in Nebraska (I'm halfway making these places up, I don't know where it all happens but I know it's far away). All of these things have to be shipped DAILY from one place to another in MASS amounts to feed us. Now that's not good for the environment either. Mass slaughterhouses are terrible for the environment and they treat animals horribly. Almond farms come from far, far away and must be shipped and driven, and that's not a very friendly carbon footprint either.
The other option I contemplate is going local. Honestly, that's the top choice in my book. I buy local and I can see the hands of the farmer that butchered the cow I eat and raises the chickens whose eggs I have for breakfast. I can know what he does to them and what he puts in them. I can look into the eyes of the fellow who grew my tomatoes and planted the lettuce for my salad. That seems exactly like how it's supposed to happen. AND that means I wouldn't have to give up meat and cheese and eggs and all those yummy things. But local eating isn't that easy year-round here in the Chicago. Local eating can be done, albeit expensively, in the summer and spring time. After the harvest is over the farmers markets are few and far between, and then what?
I then think of all of the difficulties and lengths I would have to go to for something like that. That would mean no more things that only grow in far away places such as almonds, and bananas, kiwi, pineapple, and a LOT of other things. At least two of those things are a current staple in my diet. I couldn't get fruits in the winter time unless I canned them or froze them.
I'm sure you're all thinking I'm a bit extreme here. I should go local when I can, and then once I can't I've done my duty, right? I just can't see it that way. I want to do all that I can, and I want to start now. I want to choose what is best for myself and for this planet that the Lord has gifted us with.
So what do you think? Vegan or local? I don't care if vegan-ism seems totally outrageous to you. Strictly on an environmental level, what's better?
With my head in the clouds
Looking back into some of my old writings that I wrote in the heat of my nomadic adventures, and in the depths of a very sad season. I wrote, "I am not a planner." Hah. What has happened to me now? I am living the life that I wrote about here which scared me:
My life is not full of sorrows, but the
sorrows I do see run very deep within me. Unbearably deep.
How do I justify, or how do I change?
I am not a planner, and part of me does
not desire to be a planner. My stories come from going on a whim and
rolling with the punches. Stories that can never be had anywhere else. To have
looked out the window of many different trains, and slept under the roofs of
countless homes. To have an adventure that only comes from sticking my head
up in the clouds a little further I have realized that there’s a lot more up
in those clouds than what every day practicalities try to let you know.
Why am I broken? Because I need community?
Because I need a back-up plan? Because I need stability? Well, how do I pair
those with a wandering soul? How do I make them meet without disastrously colliding?
Why must I sacrifice such a deep desire to enjoy my other desires? Is there a
way? I need there to be a way.
The way I see it I am enhancing my life.
I am enhancing my future. I am bringing enchantment to something I want to
write about. I’m living a story. What’s wrong with it? I don’t feel enlightened
when I am told what might be best for me. I feel stifled. With any way of life
come great sorrows, fears. No one is one hundred percent stable. Something
expensive breaks. A job is going south. There’s a fire, or death. Every life.
Every journey. In mine, I have chosen to let go of certain things.
I don’t think you understand.
But really, I want someone to understand.
I feel so deeply. My joys sky rocket
beyond most. And my sorrows sink deep into
my soul’s abyss. No wonder I often feel misunderstood. I love my feelings.
My deep feelings and my dramatic emotionalism. That’s the way it should be.
Feel deeply. Let yourself feel deeply. When I am joyous I am really joyous. But
when I am sad no one knows what to do with me. I bathe myself in tears. I
understand- it’s overwhelming for someone who cares. I understand- I can be
overwhelming. I don’t wish to be overwhelming. But I won’t give up my feelings.
There is emotion that comes from beyond myself. Often times I don’t even
understand it. Know this. When I am filled with joy and life, nothing is strong
enough to penetrate it. It is contagious beyond a mere smile. It makes the sun
shine. But I don’t take credit. It’s something outside of myself.
And know this. When I am sad, it is as
though the dark ages have fallen on life once again. Tears seem abundant and
endless. The rainfall on my heart is vast and covers much ground around me.
Sometimes it feels hopeless because of how deeply contagious it is. I don’t
wish to burden with my sadness, but there is something outside of me which
makes me feel greatly. I could take guilt for imposing on my community in such
a way, but I really see it as a great gift.
I love colors, and deep contrast. Perhaps
because they understand me. I mirror them. We get each other. Now, peering out the
window of this train and seeing the vastness of the prairies, the silos, and
quiet lives, there is one thing that sings to my heart. I see a blanket of snow
covering the farms. Sprouting through is a patch of tall, red, vibrant prairie
grass. It sings to my soul; the color pushing out of the colorless; the life
overcoming the death; the vastness of each, the importance of each, and the
beauty of each- next to each other. Beyond what it seems, they are not at odds
with each other. They are working together, singing to the dark night of my
soul.
I am homeless
Written while I was living out my car two summers ago:
I am homeless. Homelessness in ways seemed so romantic to
me. It’s simple and I’m all for simplicity in every way. Homelessness is not
simple. Sleeping through the night without waking up is an almost impossible
task. Having everything I own in my car, no matter how organized it starts,
gets messy, dirty, and actually really gross. Every morning I wake up in a nice
pool of sweat after the sun shines on my car for just enough time to create and
awesome greenhouse effect. I’m going to start growing plants out of my head
soon; I’ve got just the right amount of water coming out of me to keep them
hydrated. My bread is smooshed, my butter is melting over everything. It takes
twice as long to make breakfast in the morning, and twice as long to find a
place to park and sleep for the night. Being sick and homeless is one of
the most lonely things I’ve ever gone through. No one to take care of me, and
not a comfortable place around to lay my head. My car gets smelly, trash
piles up, and I get genuinely tired. I used to run miles and miles after a good
night’s rest, and now I can sleep hours and hours after a single mile run. It’s
exhausting. It’s not romantic. It’s a bit lonely. Time consuming, yet I seem to
have more time than I know what to do with sometimes. A strange paradox.
However, it makes me take life slow. Important things are
different and simple things make me more joyful. I take life slower, one day at
a time, and enjoy the time that I do have.
I enjoy the alone time I get twice as much, and I enjoy the friend time
that I get three times as much. I supposes there is a good and a bad no matter
which way you choose to live life. There are stresses and joys abounding in different ways.
What way do you choose to live yours?
Plan Plan Plan
My upbringing taught me that I should love what I do. "Do what you love and you'll never have to go to work", my mom always told me. I think Mark Twain originally said something similar, but my mom is where I learned it from. So I did.
I didn't go to college, I went to Scotland. I didn't stay put and get grounded, I traveled. I didn't get a career and start saving up for this and that, I hopped around from bakery to coffee shop to grocery store and loved every one of them.
Suddenly, though, I have found myself in an entirely new way of thinking. It's a little scary. I never knew this side of me was so strong. In my travels I am laid back, go-with-the-flow. I don't worry until I have to cross the bridge of worry (and yes, I have, many a time. Big and boldly, with a lot of tears). Now I am almost turning Type A. *Gasp!*. Okay, I don't think I'll actually EVER be Type A even if I wanted to, but the path I am currently down closely hugs that Type A side.
Plan plan plan. What will I do today? At this time I'll go running for this long, after that I will do pilates for ten minutes, then I will eat this for lunch, and do that, and by this time I should get ready for work. Then I will have thirty minutes left until I must leave for work. I leave for work always a half hour early even though it only takes me about 12 minutes to get there, but I've got to make sure I'm ready for traffic or what not, right?
I found a bit of a freedom in planning things once I settled into moving to Wheaton. It made me feel put together and prepared. I liked it. But something happens when I start to like something... I obsess. Not exactly obsess, but I put a LOT of my energy into that thing. All or nothing: this describes me. So freedom is, in fact, a very fine line for me.
After I caught myself trying to look up what I will be doing a year from now and start planning ahead for that thing right now, I took a deep breath, shut my computer, and put myself to bed. I know some people do plan ahead for a year or even five years from now. That's great. Some people can do that. Generally those some people are people who already have a bit more of a normal life path they are on. I do not. This summer where will I be? I don't know. Plan plan plan!
STOP.
Stop stop stop. Actually, I am driving myself crazy in the head. Where once I found a fullness in my life of laying back and trusting that God will work and protect, I have replaced with a self-propelled extreme "what-if" state of mind.
The trouble comes not when I have to find my way back to that Sarah who is laid back and takes on life. I know her, I can be her again pretty easily. The trouble comes when I find I must balance the two extreme sides of myself into something healthy.
Today I woke up and immediately started setting appointments, and planning on going to the gym, and then coming back to work on some stuff at a coffee shop, and the list goes on. I was starting to make breakfast and I wasn't even hungry yet! That's where I draw the line. That's where my mental state has finally manifested itself into the physical. I'm supposed to eat breakfast when I wake up so I should do it now? No. I stopped myself, put the yogurt back in the fridge, and sat down to drink coffee and write. I will wait to do what I'm supposed to do until it feels right. I will wait to eat until I am hungry. I will wait on the Lord until he directs me.
Resting in the balance is tough.
I wish I had more to write about then all of this self reflective stuff.
As is life in my twenties, right?
Also, it's snowing.
I didn't go to college, I went to Scotland. I didn't stay put and get grounded, I traveled. I didn't get a career and start saving up for this and that, I hopped around from bakery to coffee shop to grocery store and loved every one of them.
Suddenly, though, I have found myself in an entirely new way of thinking. It's a little scary. I never knew this side of me was so strong. In my travels I am laid back, go-with-the-flow. I don't worry until I have to cross the bridge of worry (and yes, I have, many a time. Big and boldly, with a lot of tears). Now I am almost turning Type A. *Gasp!*. Okay, I don't think I'll actually EVER be Type A even if I wanted to, but the path I am currently down closely hugs that Type A side.
Plan plan plan. What will I do today? At this time I'll go running for this long, after that I will do pilates for ten minutes, then I will eat this for lunch, and do that, and by this time I should get ready for work. Then I will have thirty minutes left until I must leave for work. I leave for work always a half hour early even though it only takes me about 12 minutes to get there, but I've got to make sure I'm ready for traffic or what not, right?
I found a bit of a freedom in planning things once I settled into moving to Wheaton. It made me feel put together and prepared. I liked it. But something happens when I start to like something... I obsess. Not exactly obsess, but I put a LOT of my energy into that thing. All or nothing: this describes me. So freedom is, in fact, a very fine line for me.
After I caught myself trying to look up what I will be doing a year from now and start planning ahead for that thing right now, I took a deep breath, shut my computer, and put myself to bed. I know some people do plan ahead for a year or even five years from now. That's great. Some people can do that. Generally those some people are people who already have a bit more of a normal life path they are on. I do not. This summer where will I be? I don't know. Plan plan plan!
STOP.
Stop stop stop. Actually, I am driving myself crazy in the head. Where once I found a fullness in my life of laying back and trusting that God will work and protect, I have replaced with a self-propelled extreme "what-if" state of mind.
The trouble comes not when I have to find my way back to that Sarah who is laid back and takes on life. I know her, I can be her again pretty easily. The trouble comes when I find I must balance the two extreme sides of myself into something healthy.
Today I woke up and immediately started setting appointments, and planning on going to the gym, and then coming back to work on some stuff at a coffee shop, and the list goes on. I was starting to make breakfast and I wasn't even hungry yet! That's where I draw the line. That's where my mental state has finally manifested itself into the physical. I'm supposed to eat breakfast when I wake up so I should do it now? No. I stopped myself, put the yogurt back in the fridge, and sat down to drink coffee and write. I will wait to do what I'm supposed to do until it feels right. I will wait to eat until I am hungry. I will wait on the Lord until he directs me.
Resting in the balance is tough.
I wish I had more to write about then all of this self reflective stuff.
As is life in my twenties, right?
Also, it's snowing.
Friday, March 22, 2013
Be Silent
Exodus 14:14 - "The LORD will fight for you, and you have only to be silent."
First of all, lets just say the word Exodus again. What a beautiful word: Exodus, Exodus. Thrill came over me when I turned my bible page from the last chapter of Genesis and read the big bold letters stringing together. The E stands boldly at the beginning introducing that little x, which never gets enough show time in the alphabet, but it's a bold letter. It nearly takes over the entire word it's entangled in. I love it.
Exodus- A going out; a departure or emigration.
Yeah, that's it. A departure. An Exodus. We started here in this world with an exodus, and we will end here in this broken world with an exodus.
We were thrown out of the way things should be, should have been, will be. And we will depart from here in this broken place into what the LORD has meant it to be. An exodus almost defines the lives of humanity from beginning to end(ish); after all, with the LORD there is no end.
The LORD will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.
That is not an easy thing. I am daily trying to fight for myself. I am daily trying to plan, and seek, and fight, and know. I have grown weary of this thing that I didn't even know defined a large portion of my life until a wise person told me to perhaps take a break from those things until Easter. This is why we have things like Sabbath. Teak a break. Be silent and LET the LORD fight for you.
Oh, oh what a rest that is to fall into. To know that the God of the world fights for me, and I have only to be silent.
When I read the Old Testament I have found I'm reading it as if God were a different God back then. He must have been more harsh, and was more distant, he asked different things of us than he did after Christ came. Almost as an Earthly father has a new tenderness and vision of life and others after he has a child of his own. But I am mistaken. God is God. He was always the same God and always will be.
He fought for us, and fights for us. He heard the cries of the people of Israel, He hears the cries of our own hearts.
Exodus 2:25 - God saw the people of Israel- and and God knew.
God sees us, and He knows.
God repeats over and over and over again to Moses in Exodus 3, "I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob."
He still is.
Every time Moses doubts himself God repeats, "I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob."
He's saying, "Do not doubt yourself with Me by your side. Look and listen to who I AM."
The LORD will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.
First of all, lets just say the word Exodus again. What a beautiful word: Exodus, Exodus. Thrill came over me when I turned my bible page from the last chapter of Genesis and read the big bold letters stringing together. The E stands boldly at the beginning introducing that little x, which never gets enough show time in the alphabet, but it's a bold letter. It nearly takes over the entire word it's entangled in. I love it.
Exodus- A going out; a departure or emigration.
Yeah, that's it. A departure. An Exodus. We started here in this world with an exodus, and we will end here in this broken world with an exodus.
We were thrown out of the way things should be, should have been, will be. And we will depart from here in this broken place into what the LORD has meant it to be. An exodus almost defines the lives of humanity from beginning to end(ish); after all, with the LORD there is no end.
The LORD will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.
That is not an easy thing. I am daily trying to fight for myself. I am daily trying to plan, and seek, and fight, and know. I have grown weary of this thing that I didn't even know defined a large portion of my life until a wise person told me to perhaps take a break from those things until Easter. This is why we have things like Sabbath. Teak a break. Be silent and LET the LORD fight for you.
Oh, oh what a rest that is to fall into. To know that the God of the world fights for me, and I have only to be silent.
When I read the Old Testament I have found I'm reading it as if God were a different God back then. He must have been more harsh, and was more distant, he asked different things of us than he did after Christ came. Almost as an Earthly father has a new tenderness and vision of life and others after he has a child of his own. But I am mistaken. God is God. He was always the same God and always will be.
He fought for us, and fights for us. He heard the cries of the people of Israel, He hears the cries of our own hearts.
Exodus 2:25 - God saw the people of Israel- and and God knew.
God sees us, and He knows.
God repeats over and over and over again to Moses in Exodus 3, "I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob."
He still is.
Every time Moses doubts himself God repeats, "I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob."
He's saying, "Do not doubt yourself with Me by your side. Look and listen to who I AM."
The LORD will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
There's no such thing as perfect
Why the constant teeter todder... and how do you spell that, anyway?
Anticipation is killing me, by the way. Not knowing where I'm going to sleep each night while I'm on the road, not knowing where I will be able to make money next, while stressful, I can handle. But not knowing when I can get taxes done, not knowing when I can get rid of my piece of a car and get a new one. Not knowing if the one I want will even be available to me... this I cannot handle. Not knowing which direction to move forward with in my very near future, I can't handle. And then having my much anticipated massage be cancelled on me literally as I'm on my way to a glorious hour of relaxation, I cannot handle.
I am overwhelmed with thoughts of bigness and heaviness. I am overwhelmed with thoughts about how broken of a world we live in, how creation is being destroyed before me, how people and animals get mistreated in this world. I am overwhelmed with thoughts of how no one at my workplace seems to understand or accept my tendencies toward dramaticism. Sometimes I'm loud, and big with my words, sometime I speak passionately about things that might not seem like a big deal. Sometimes I am just dramatic. And it's not even in-your-face or angry, or mean. In fact, it's usually dramatic, but fairly light-hearted at the same time because I KNOW I'm dramatic. And sometimes I just want people to accept that rather than say, "Geez, calm down Sarah", even if it is jokingly.
I am overwhelmed with the fact that I am in transition towards something totally unknown and each day it gets closer. I am overwhelmed with the fact that it might not be taking a turn in a direction that I think is perfect. I am overwhelmed with coldness, and the deadness of the trees. I need nature back and alive for me to spring up and show me once again that life will come, and the sun will finally nourish in the way that is most needed.
I am sick of thinking about all the things I would do in life, that I will do in life. I'm sick of thinking of all the options I have, the ones I can take, and the ones I can't take. I'm sick of longing over pictures of beautiful places, and I'm sick of looking at cars that I need to buy but currently can't act on actually doing just that. I am sick of life pulling the rug out from under me right when I start to feel like I'm beginning to stand up all the way. Why? That's just mean. I realize that incredible growth can come in these times if we let ourselves grow. But I just want to rest. My growing pains are making me weary.
And I'm sick of the whole "you're in your 20s and finding yourself" stage of life. I know that life is an ever continual process of growth and finding ones self, but for this particularly large and in-charge place of life... I'm done. I'm done. And I'm only half way through? Lord, have mercy.
I realize now that throughout this day I have said, "I've got to do something", and, "I'm done", more than I've said any other phrases this day. And they are incredibly opposing things to say.
Gosh. That's me right there for yah. The walking opposition. I feel it down to my bones.
It's a long and rugged road, and we don't know where it's headed,
but we know it's going to get us where we're going.
And when we find what we're looking for we'll drop these bags and search no more,
'Cause it's going to feel like heaven when we're home.
There's no such thing as perfect, and if there is we'll find it when we're good and dead.
Trust me I've been looking, but tonight I think I'll go and take a bath instead.
Then maybe I'll walk awhile, feel the Earth beneath me.
They say if you stop looking it doesn't matter if you find it.
And who's to say that even if I did it's what I'm really looking for.
It's going to feel like heaven when we're home.
Anticipation is killing me, by the way. Not knowing where I'm going to sleep each night while I'm on the road, not knowing where I will be able to make money next, while stressful, I can handle. But not knowing when I can get taxes done, not knowing when I can get rid of my piece of a car and get a new one. Not knowing if the one I want will even be available to me... this I cannot handle. Not knowing which direction to move forward with in my very near future, I can't handle. And then having my much anticipated massage be cancelled on me literally as I'm on my way to a glorious hour of relaxation, I cannot handle.
I am overwhelmed with thoughts of bigness and heaviness. I am overwhelmed with thoughts about how broken of a world we live in, how creation is being destroyed before me, how people and animals get mistreated in this world. I am overwhelmed with thoughts of how no one at my workplace seems to understand or accept my tendencies toward dramaticism. Sometimes I'm loud, and big with my words, sometime I speak passionately about things that might not seem like a big deal. Sometimes I am just dramatic. And it's not even in-your-face or angry, or mean. In fact, it's usually dramatic, but fairly light-hearted at the same time because I KNOW I'm dramatic. And sometimes I just want people to accept that rather than say, "Geez, calm down Sarah", even if it is jokingly.
I am overwhelmed with the fact that I am in transition towards something totally unknown and each day it gets closer. I am overwhelmed with the fact that it might not be taking a turn in a direction that I think is perfect. I am overwhelmed with coldness, and the deadness of the trees. I need nature back and alive for me to spring up and show me once again that life will come, and the sun will finally nourish in the way that is most needed.
I am sick of thinking about all the things I would do in life, that I will do in life. I'm sick of thinking of all the options I have, the ones I can take, and the ones I can't take. I'm sick of longing over pictures of beautiful places, and I'm sick of looking at cars that I need to buy but currently can't act on actually doing just that. I am sick of life pulling the rug out from under me right when I start to feel like I'm beginning to stand up all the way. Why? That's just mean. I realize that incredible growth can come in these times if we let ourselves grow. But I just want to rest. My growing pains are making me weary.
And I'm sick of the whole "you're in your 20s and finding yourself" stage of life. I know that life is an ever continual process of growth and finding ones self, but for this particularly large and in-charge place of life... I'm done. I'm done. And I'm only half way through? Lord, have mercy.
I realize now that throughout this day I have said, "I've got to do something", and, "I'm done", more than I've said any other phrases this day. And they are incredibly opposing things to say.
Gosh. That's me right there for yah. The walking opposition. I feel it down to my bones.
It's a long and rugged road, and we don't know where it's headed,
but we know it's going to get us where we're going.
And when we find what we're looking for we'll drop these bags and search no more,
'Cause it's going to feel like heaven when we're home.
There's no such thing as perfect, and if there is we'll find it when we're good and dead.
Trust me I've been looking, but tonight I think I'll go and take a bath instead.
Then maybe I'll walk awhile, feel the Earth beneath me.
They say if you stop looking it doesn't matter if you find it.
And who's to say that even if I did it's what I'm really looking for.
It's going to feel like heaven when we're home.
Monday, March 11, 2013
My Moral Dilemma
Dear Everyone,
I am having a moral dilemma. How fitting that as soon as I write this Gungor's "The Earth is Yours" comes on my playlist, my current favorite song of worship.
Lord, the Earth is Yours, and singing. But beneath the loud voice of worship there are cries and moans of a broken world.
And activist came alive in me this past summer realizing as I read through Genesis that this Earth is important and beautiful and MUST be taken good care of. I now find myself diving further into the knowledge of good and evil that we as a people became so keenly aware of the day that Eve took the first taste of the forbidden fruit. I know the good. I know a minute fraction of the GOOD of this Earth, and I see also only a small iota of the evil as well. It infuriates me. But what good is my infuriation without action? Ignorance is bliss.
Ignorance was bliss at the morning dawn whenever I cracked my egg into the sizzling butter that fried my morning sustenance. Ignorance was bliss as I unpacked boxes of meat and cheese to display them for the hungry world of Trader Joe's. Ignorance was bliss and a little comedic when I laughed along with knock-off acronyms like PETA: People Eating Tasty Animals.
Ignorance I'm sure to have much of, but not enough to be in bliss any longer. I can't shake the little bit of knowledge I have of where my food comes from now. Food: Something that is supposed to support and sustain us, something that brings us together in community while being grown, made, AND being eaten. If we were all involved in every step of the process (in a pure way) we would all surely be in awe of the Lord. And food was there, first hand experiencing the fall of mankind at the hands of... mankind. The ones who are supposed to be stewarding this bountiful planet have bastardized our food from day one. Can we even get a handle on how to redeem our food? Ourselves? Our relationship with our food? I'm not just talking about a healthy mental relationship, I'm talking about a healthy personal relationship.
Personal, yes, because we eat animals. And the Lord allows that. He has allowed the beasts of the Earth to be food for man. With that allowance though, He has NOT taken away our call to steward this place we live in and take care of it. To live into being a Godly people we must care for our bodies, our souls, we must care for our planet, and we must also care for our animals.
This is where my dilemma comes in. This is where ignorance is bliss. The two eggs I made for myself this morning came from certified organic free range chickens. But free range means not what it sounds like it means. Free range, cage free chickens are hardly that. Do you know that cage free actually means that they are still stuffed inside a building with only one square foot of space per chicken? Free range means that they have a five minute window when the doors of their coop open up to a hardly open space of sunlight reflecting only off of the gravel, grass-less ground that surrounds their home. Their beaks are cut off as chicks, and live male chicks are thrown into a grinder alive because they produce no eggs and, thus, are pointless in this world. There are no laws or standards protecting the way chickens are butchered. Organic or not, they are butchered inhumanely. I won't get into the things that happen in a non-organic chicken farm. It's truly not good in any way. It would bring tears to the coldest eyes.
As for cows: The males, for beef, have their testicles cut off at the hands of a person with a machete without a drug in their body to ease the pain. Men, imagine that for a minute. At a place where the cows are humanly raised they, instead, have a rubber band put around their testicles so the organ dies and falls off. Better?
What has happened? Why do we get to pump God's animals with hormones to fatten them up and feed our bellies? I don't think we realize the sheer magnitude and the lies we have been swept up in with this defilement. Satan has a weapon in ignorance. Hosea 4:6 says, "My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge; because you have rejected knowledge.."
I am a meat and beef loving, cheese eating, egg hoarding lover of all foods animal related. I don't think that's a bad thing. But in essence being a meat-eater in this world has become an enablement of SO many of the wrongdoings to God's creation. It's nearly inescapable, and it deeply saddens my heart. The natural habitat for chickens and cows and turkeys and fish are that way because God placed them there. We shouldn't be changing that. Yet when I go to a grocery store and find the label that says grass-fed, and free range I am not convinced. We have been deceived again, my friend.
So what do I do about it? Honor our bodies. My metabolism keeps me hungry often. Grains don't sustain my energy. I'm very aware of how the food I eat effects my body, and the protein and fats that come from the meat and eggs I eat fill me well. Trying to sustain my protein on quinoa and nuts alone because the world has defiled the way we treat our animals is a hard thing for me to accept. So do I accept it anyway? For the honor of the Lord and His creation?
Or do I learn to grow these things myself? Humanly raise and butcher a cow who has grown up with love in a green pasture. Can I even find a nearby farm to provide me with eggs from chickens who aren't ground up alive? I'm infuriated, and I'm sad, and I'm confused.
I have no answers at the end of this day. But I pray to the Lord for guidance. I WANT to glorify him in my food, and my actions, and my words. I trust that He will guide my way.
I'm sorry if I have taken away your ignorance and your bliss. But I hope I have. And I hope you will find that you, too, want to glorify God in new ways you weren't aware of. Perhaps we can walk together down an unseen road towards sanctification.
I am having a moral dilemma. How fitting that as soon as I write this Gungor's "The Earth is Yours" comes on my playlist, my current favorite song of worship.
Lord, the Earth is Yours, and singing. But beneath the loud voice of worship there are cries and moans of a broken world.
And activist came alive in me this past summer realizing as I read through Genesis that this Earth is important and beautiful and MUST be taken good care of. I now find myself diving further into the knowledge of good and evil that we as a people became so keenly aware of the day that Eve took the first taste of the forbidden fruit. I know the good. I know a minute fraction of the GOOD of this Earth, and I see also only a small iota of the evil as well. It infuriates me. But what good is my infuriation without action? Ignorance is bliss.
Ignorance was bliss at the morning dawn whenever I cracked my egg into the sizzling butter that fried my morning sustenance. Ignorance was bliss as I unpacked boxes of meat and cheese to display them for the hungry world of Trader Joe's. Ignorance was bliss and a little comedic when I laughed along with knock-off acronyms like PETA: People Eating Tasty Animals.
Ignorance I'm sure to have much of, but not enough to be in bliss any longer. I can't shake the little bit of knowledge I have of where my food comes from now. Food: Something that is supposed to support and sustain us, something that brings us together in community while being grown, made, AND being eaten. If we were all involved in every step of the process (in a pure way) we would all surely be in awe of the Lord. And food was there, first hand experiencing the fall of mankind at the hands of... mankind. The ones who are supposed to be stewarding this bountiful planet have bastardized our food from day one. Can we even get a handle on how to redeem our food? Ourselves? Our relationship with our food? I'm not just talking about a healthy mental relationship, I'm talking about a healthy personal relationship.
Personal, yes, because we eat animals. And the Lord allows that. He has allowed the beasts of the Earth to be food for man. With that allowance though, He has NOT taken away our call to steward this place we live in and take care of it. To live into being a Godly people we must care for our bodies, our souls, we must care for our planet, and we must also care for our animals.
This is where my dilemma comes in. This is where ignorance is bliss. The two eggs I made for myself this morning came from certified organic free range chickens. But free range means not what it sounds like it means. Free range, cage free chickens are hardly that. Do you know that cage free actually means that they are still stuffed inside a building with only one square foot of space per chicken? Free range means that they have a five minute window when the doors of their coop open up to a hardly open space of sunlight reflecting only off of the gravel, grass-less ground that surrounds their home. Their beaks are cut off as chicks, and live male chicks are thrown into a grinder alive because they produce no eggs and, thus, are pointless in this world. There are no laws or standards protecting the way chickens are butchered. Organic or not, they are butchered inhumanely. I won't get into the things that happen in a non-organic chicken farm. It's truly not good in any way. It would bring tears to the coldest eyes.
As for cows: The males, for beef, have their testicles cut off at the hands of a person with a machete without a drug in their body to ease the pain. Men, imagine that for a minute. At a place where the cows are humanly raised they, instead, have a rubber band put around their testicles so the organ dies and falls off. Better?
What has happened? Why do we get to pump God's animals with hormones to fatten them up and feed our bellies? I don't think we realize the sheer magnitude and the lies we have been swept up in with this defilement. Satan has a weapon in ignorance. Hosea 4:6 says, "My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge; because you have rejected knowledge.."
I am a meat and beef loving, cheese eating, egg hoarding lover of all foods animal related. I don't think that's a bad thing. But in essence being a meat-eater in this world has become an enablement of SO many of the wrongdoings to God's creation. It's nearly inescapable, and it deeply saddens my heart. The natural habitat for chickens and cows and turkeys and fish are that way because God placed them there. We shouldn't be changing that. Yet when I go to a grocery store and find the label that says grass-fed, and free range I am not convinced. We have been deceived again, my friend.
So what do I do about it? Honor our bodies. My metabolism keeps me hungry often. Grains don't sustain my energy. I'm very aware of how the food I eat effects my body, and the protein and fats that come from the meat and eggs I eat fill me well. Trying to sustain my protein on quinoa and nuts alone because the world has defiled the way we treat our animals is a hard thing for me to accept. So do I accept it anyway? For the honor of the Lord and His creation?
Or do I learn to grow these things myself? Humanly raise and butcher a cow who has grown up with love in a green pasture. Can I even find a nearby farm to provide me with eggs from chickens who aren't ground up alive? I'm infuriated, and I'm sad, and I'm confused.
I have no answers at the end of this day. But I pray to the Lord for guidance. I WANT to glorify him in my food, and my actions, and my words. I trust that He will guide my way.
I'm sorry if I have taken away your ignorance and your bliss. But I hope I have. And I hope you will find that you, too, want to glorify God in new ways you weren't aware of. Perhaps we can walk together down an unseen road towards sanctification.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Spare the love and spread the embarrassment. Or just spread both.
Why oh, why are there those of us who embarrass so easily?
Actually, let me articulate that a little better. I don't feel embarrassed all that easily, my face, however, likes to deceive those around me. Or is it I who is the one doing the deceiving?
The slightest hint of flattery, the passing of a handsome man, the smallest bit of talk of something one probably shouldn't hear, and there go my cheeks. Blushed and flushed.
Don't EVEN get me started on the handsome man thing. Okay well it's too late.
May I just express my frustration with my inability to speak to any handsome man? Particularly with the ones I actually see myself having no future with.
Exhibit A: Binny's Boy. Or rather, Binny's Man. After all, someone with a beard like his could never be called a boy. It's a big beard. It's red. He probably brews his own beer. He lingers by the salads for awhile, then picks out the ripest banana. Then always goes through a lucky lady's register line at Trader Joes. Who is not ever the lucky lady? Well, me. Until Monday, that is. He bought a single granny smith apple and was the first to walk up to my line. How do I make conversation with a handsome man who likes to brew beer, and drink beer, and grow beards, and look handsome? I turn flush red and gaze lovingly at only the green apple lying there on the counter while my silly red face tries desperately to fight off a gushy smile and looses. Then I say, "So whattaya drinkin'?" not to him, but to his Starbucks cup. The cup answers, "You sound like a dummy", and he answers so kindly with an explanation that he loves pour-over brew. You know, if you go in at the right time of day they'll make one for you? Yes, actually, I do know because I love coffee and worked at Starbucks for years. Too bad I couldn't stop pretending I was in love with his granny smith apple and make conversation about the abundance of things we have in common: Starbucks, beer, and I'm just sure there's a whole list there. Promise.
All the while he works two doors down from me in the same building. Shouldn't I just go buy some beer for goodness sakes? No, because I already know how that conversion will go. I will stare at the Binny's emblem on his shirt with a red face and a dumb smile, then I will ask, "So whattaya doin'?"
Exhibit B: Well, should I? Probably not, because exhibit B and C and D and F and K and Z and all forever of them are, with my luck, someone who will either read this or know someone reading this.
Stuttering, smiling at my feet, saying stupid things about how I'm sweating too much, repeating the same question over and over and over again in the same conversion. That's the gist. I'll spare you the rest of the details.
Sometimes I'm a little witty. Sometimes my face is not flushed red. Most of the time I don't even feel awkward, because I am human and you are human and sometimes we just do dumb human things like punch ourselves in the face while we're tying to open up a box that's taped shut. Multiple times. In public. Either way, we all do dumb things.
So next time you see me if you could just trip up the stairs and let out a good fart as your catching yourself that would very much please me and my need to not feel like the only one who makes a fool of herself on a daily basis. I just need a good laugh at someone other than myself. Believe you me, I get a damn good laugh out of my own misfortunes. But can I spread the love? Let's spread the love.
Actually, let me articulate that a little better. I don't feel embarrassed all that easily, my face, however, likes to deceive those around me. Or is it I who is the one doing the deceiving?
The slightest hint of flattery, the passing of a handsome man, the smallest bit of talk of something one probably shouldn't hear, and there go my cheeks. Blushed and flushed.
Don't EVEN get me started on the handsome man thing. Okay well it's too late.
May I just express my frustration with my inability to speak to any handsome man? Particularly with the ones I actually see myself having no future with.
Exhibit A: Binny's Boy. Or rather, Binny's Man. After all, someone with a beard like his could never be called a boy. It's a big beard. It's red. He probably brews his own beer. He lingers by the salads for awhile, then picks out the ripest banana. Then always goes through a lucky lady's register line at Trader Joes. Who is not ever the lucky lady? Well, me. Until Monday, that is. He bought a single granny smith apple and was the first to walk up to my line. How do I make conversation with a handsome man who likes to brew beer, and drink beer, and grow beards, and look handsome? I turn flush red and gaze lovingly at only the green apple lying there on the counter while my silly red face tries desperately to fight off a gushy smile and looses. Then I say, "So whattaya drinkin'?" not to him, but to his Starbucks cup. The cup answers, "You sound like a dummy", and he answers so kindly with an explanation that he loves pour-over brew. You know, if you go in at the right time of day they'll make one for you? Yes, actually, I do know because I love coffee and worked at Starbucks for years. Too bad I couldn't stop pretending I was in love with his granny smith apple and make conversation about the abundance of things we have in common: Starbucks, beer, and I'm just sure there's a whole list there. Promise.
All the while he works two doors down from me in the same building. Shouldn't I just go buy some beer for goodness sakes? No, because I already know how that conversion will go. I will stare at the Binny's emblem on his shirt with a red face and a dumb smile, then I will ask, "So whattaya doin'?"
Exhibit B: Well, should I? Probably not, because exhibit B and C and D and F and K and Z and all forever of them are, with my luck, someone who will either read this or know someone reading this.
Stuttering, smiling at my feet, saying stupid things about how I'm sweating too much, repeating the same question over and over and over again in the same conversion. That's the gist. I'll spare you the rest of the details.
Sometimes I'm a little witty. Sometimes my face is not flushed red. Most of the time I don't even feel awkward, because I am human and you are human and sometimes we just do dumb human things like punch ourselves in the face while we're tying to open up a box that's taped shut. Multiple times. In public. Either way, we all do dumb things.
So next time you see me if you could just trip up the stairs and let out a good fart as your catching yourself that would very much please me and my need to not feel like the only one who makes a fool of herself on a daily basis. I just need a good laugh at someone other than myself. Believe you me, I get a damn good laugh out of my own misfortunes. But can I spread the love? Let's spread the love.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Spiritual Warfar
Dreams have always been a huge part of my life. Its like I live in another spiritual realm when I finally drift. Sometimes it's fill with terror, and sometimes with extreme peace. Last night it was... leeches.
I dreamed I was on a dock near dark, black water in the dark. HUGE, long, hard and round leaches up to the size of my arm were jumping out of the water and throwing themselves at me trying to stick to me for the satisfaction of sucking on my precious blood and taking away the very thing that gives me life. I'm happy to say none of them actually got to me, but they got awfully close and they did a great job of terrifying me. Remembering that leeches don't like salt, I ran to get some and poured salt over this one giant leech. As soon as I did his skin started smoking and he began screaming a high pitched, horrible scream as though he were a Ringwraith in disguise. Funny enough, that terrified me more than the fact that they were flinging themselves desperately at me.
The dream ended with me unharmed, albeit, a little frightened.
Instantly I knew that this was a dream of spiritual warfare.
Last night with my Sr. High girls at youth group I felt the need to pray for all the weary souls in the room. I felt as though a spiritual attack could have been upon us. I think my dream was showing me that God is and was protecting us and working. He's showing me the power of prayer through my dream. The Devil comes to steal, kill, and destroy, but Christ came to give us life, and to the full. My God is the Salt of the Earth. Sprinkle His name around your life and He will protect you from the Evil One.
I dreamed I was on a dock near dark, black water in the dark. HUGE, long, hard and round leaches up to the size of my arm were jumping out of the water and throwing themselves at me trying to stick to me for the satisfaction of sucking on my precious blood and taking away the very thing that gives me life. I'm happy to say none of them actually got to me, but they got awfully close and they did a great job of terrifying me. Remembering that leeches don't like salt, I ran to get some and poured salt over this one giant leech. As soon as I did his skin started smoking and he began screaming a high pitched, horrible scream as though he were a Ringwraith in disguise. Funny enough, that terrified me more than the fact that they were flinging themselves desperately at me.
The dream ended with me unharmed, albeit, a little frightened.
Instantly I knew that this was a dream of spiritual warfare.
Last night with my Sr. High girls at youth group I felt the need to pray for all the weary souls in the room. I felt as though a spiritual attack could have been upon us. I think my dream was showing me that God is and was protecting us and working. He's showing me the power of prayer through my dream. The Devil comes to steal, kill, and destroy, but Christ came to give us life, and to the full. My God is the Salt of the Earth. Sprinkle His name around your life and He will protect you from the Evil One.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Slow down for a fast.
Ash Wednesday is upon us, my friends. A day that has mostly had the meaning of a rich and buttery baked potato topped with melted cheese and slathered with sour cream. The Catholic church down the street did their duty in teaching me that these Ash Wednesdays are the beginning of a season that is plentiful with flaky fish and buttery potatoes. I didn't grow up Catholic, but man, they had something good going on there. That's the most lent has ever meant to me: butter. This season however, it's a little different.
I've never participated in the Lenten season before. I've never wanted to, never felt convicted to, and never quite fully understood the reason for it. Now, I'm sure I have much more to learn than what I have attempted to so far, but this year I want to take part in this fast. This fasting of the the season isn't being done to find my worth in what I can abstain from and remove from my life (as I have always thought it to be). Rather, it is a simplifying of my life of sorts. It's abstaining from something that has the power to consume my time, my mind, my money, and so on. Instead I decide to use that time for things to make me more whole. My goal in life is to be a very well-rounded person.
I have been reading through a book of spiritual disciplines because I've been wanting to learn more on fasting. I was so happy to find in the table of contents all sorts of spiritual disciplines far beyond just prayer, fasting, and worship. What I found in this book were practices like, self-care, celebration, gratitude, community, hospitality, compassion, and care of the Earth. THOSE, my friend, are the kinds of spiritual practices I want to use IN this season of lent. I want to be present to the world around me, and to the God of the world around me.
So the question was, how can I do that? What is my anticipated soul looking for? What consumes my time after work. What should my soul stop feeding on so that my spiritual belly has more room for better things?
The answer for me may seem trite and unimpressive, but I'm not here to impress anyone. Actually, this entire blog post was intended to be a short sentence or two (which I am entirely incapable of) but here we are. Thanks for staying with me. My answer is not sugar, chocolate, or meat (although it could be... maybe should be at some point). My answer is very unfortunately Facebook. The voyeurism of the social media, the lack of privacy in the social media, and the sleeplessness of the social media is so disenchanting, and so non-edifying.
This is not to convict anyone who uses Facebook. I think there are great things about it for those who don't find themselves (ehhem, me) longing for things, coveting things, and being downright annoyed by people and things whom they (me) don't have any right to be annoyed by. Annoyed, judgmental, whatever. I was trying to use language less strong, but let's just call it what it is.
All this to say: I am signing off until the celebration of the risen Christ. Yep. Easter. If you find me to be self righteous in my attempt to explain my Lent fast, please re-read my list of reasons why. Or I will repeat: Longing, coveting, judgement, and may I add time consuming. For as little of time I DO spend on Facebook, and as much as I outwardly express judgment over Facebook, I sure do let it get into my mind and under my skin far too much. I confess. And my the Lord have mercy on my Facebooked soul. Repent, repent.
Here's to hopes of returning as well rested, gracious, and compassionate soul who spends her time caring for the Earth and the hospitality of others.
What the original intent of this message was: To let Facebook know that I am signing off. If you want to be in touch- Please e mail or call me. Perhaps next Lenten season I should fast from excessive words...
I've never participated in the Lenten season before. I've never wanted to, never felt convicted to, and never quite fully understood the reason for it. Now, I'm sure I have much more to learn than what I have attempted to so far, but this year I want to take part in this fast. This fasting of the the season isn't being done to find my worth in what I can abstain from and remove from my life (as I have always thought it to be). Rather, it is a simplifying of my life of sorts. It's abstaining from something that has the power to consume my time, my mind, my money, and so on. Instead I decide to use that time for things to make me more whole. My goal in life is to be a very well-rounded person.
I have been reading through a book of spiritual disciplines because I've been wanting to learn more on fasting. I was so happy to find in the table of contents all sorts of spiritual disciplines far beyond just prayer, fasting, and worship. What I found in this book were practices like, self-care, celebration, gratitude, community, hospitality, compassion, and care of the Earth. THOSE, my friend, are the kinds of spiritual practices I want to use IN this season of lent. I want to be present to the world around me, and to the God of the world around me.
So the question was, how can I do that? What is my anticipated soul looking for? What consumes my time after work. What should my soul stop feeding on so that my spiritual belly has more room for better things?
The answer for me may seem trite and unimpressive, but I'm not here to impress anyone. Actually, this entire blog post was intended to be a short sentence or two (which I am entirely incapable of) but here we are. Thanks for staying with me. My answer is not sugar, chocolate, or meat (although it could be... maybe should be at some point). My answer is very unfortunately Facebook. The voyeurism of the social media, the lack of privacy in the social media, and the sleeplessness of the social media is so disenchanting, and so non-edifying.
This is not to convict anyone who uses Facebook. I think there are great things about it for those who don't find themselves (ehhem, me) longing for things, coveting things, and being downright annoyed by people and things whom they (me) don't have any right to be annoyed by. Annoyed, judgmental, whatever. I was trying to use language less strong, but let's just call it what it is.
All this to say: I am signing off until the celebration of the risen Christ. Yep. Easter. If you find me to be self righteous in my attempt to explain my Lent fast, please re-read my list of reasons why. Or I will repeat: Longing, coveting, judgement, and may I add time consuming. For as little of time I DO spend on Facebook, and as much as I outwardly express judgment over Facebook, I sure do let it get into my mind and under my skin far too much. I confess. And my the Lord have mercy on my Facebooked soul. Repent, repent.
Here's to hopes of returning as well rested, gracious, and compassionate soul who spends her time caring for the Earth and the hospitality of others.
What the original intent of this message was: To let Facebook know that I am signing off. If you want to be in touch- Please e mail or call me. Perhaps next Lenten season I should fast from excessive words...
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
The good guys always win.
Let the spirit of the Lord come down.
I don't have a lot to say, but I have much to share.
Let the spirit of the Lord come down.
There is this thing in my peripheral vision. It's like this big ball of light that is filled with magnificence. It's God's promise to me. I can't quite turn my head to it yet, but the road I'm down is leading me there, and I am eagerly and excitedly anticipating it. I keep getting closer.
Did I tell you how serendipitous life is when you live it with the Lord? He's creative not only in the Earth around us, but also in mapping out our lives. We must choose His way, though. He is not a God of force.
His quest is usually not the easiest quest.... then again, neither was Frodo's. But come on, would you have read a 9,250 page book merely about the day to day activities in the Shire? No. We read of The Lord of the Rings.
And I listen to the Lord of Lords. In the end He always wins.
I don't have a lot to say, but I have much to share.
Let the spirit of the Lord come down.
There is this thing in my peripheral vision. It's like this big ball of light that is filled with magnificence. It's God's promise to me. I can't quite turn my head to it yet, but the road I'm down is leading me there, and I am eagerly and excitedly anticipating it. I keep getting closer.
Did I tell you how serendipitous life is when you live it with the Lord? He's creative not only in the Earth around us, but also in mapping out our lives. We must choose His way, though. He is not a God of force.
His quest is usually not the easiest quest.... then again, neither was Frodo's. But come on, would you have read a 9,250 page book merely about the day to day activities in the Shire? No. We read of The Lord of the Rings.
And I listen to the Lord of Lords. In the end He always wins.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
The Art of Non-Conformity
Yes- it's a book title. But it's a good book title. It's a great art to know, wouldn't you say? The Art of Non-Conformity. I picked up the book because the title sums up everything I want to do and be in my life. Each day I spend here in Wheaton, Illinois, the stronger the feeling gets, but the further away the dream seems to run. Sometimes life's a bitch like that.
Overcoming fear is a fairly large obstacle to overcome in life, and chapter three in this book here is dedicated to talking about it and telling me that I should do it. Overcome it! Get past it! The pages are peppered with stories of various people overcoming some sort of conventional conformity that they fear letting go of to do something huge, drastic, and life-changing. In the margins are little quotes like, "The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearful you will make one."
I agree whole-heartedly with all of this. The author doesn't know this, but he's preaching to the choir as I thumb through these pages internally cheering for all those people who made it into chapter three for overcoming their fears. I flew to Scotland by myself for three months when I was fresh out of high school. My car broke down in Colorado for three weeks until I could get it fixed so I used that as a springboard to do something I've always wanted to do: I hitchhiked everywhere to get around. I rode across the country with a stranger from Craigslist only to end up penniless in beach-town in Central California for the sake of living the adventure I've always dreamed of. I will do it. I have been extremely shy and introverted most of my life, but I will step past that for the sake of doing what I want in life (thanks Mom, for the gusto attitude of taking life and making it what I want. That is certainly a quality passed down from her). But for some reason I am reading this chapter through a different lens today than I would have a year ago.
Now reading this chapter about fear, and making lists of all these weird things I want to be doing with my life I am questioning myself. A bigger priority than ever before is listening to the Lord in my decisions. I find this odd thing happening as I'm doing this. He's... He's kind of holding me back. Or is he?
There is ALWAYS a fear when I start doing crazy things. Sometimes they manifest themselves very physically making me want to quit. When I lived out of my car two summers ago in Colorado I got so sick of it. I couldn't sleep at night for fear of an officer finding me and giving me the boot out of town, and I started to get horrible chest pains. I remember crying in my car sitting outside the hospital wanting to go in so badly to have someone take care of me and let me lay down in a bed for awhile. I also knew that I'd be paying off that hospital visit for a long time to come. And somewhere inside me I also knew that my chest pains were only coming from stress. I didn't go in. I sucked it up as much as I could, and I lived out of my car from May until September and soon came to LOVE it. Truly, I mourned a little bit the day I moved into a house with a king-sized bed in my room. The bed was bigger than my car.
I'd do it again in the heartbeat. I'd have fears again. But is that what the Lord wants me to do? I dream of buying a bus and putting a few beds in there, traveling across country. But is that what the Lord wants me to do? I'd buy a huge tent and live on someone's farm out here in the Western Suburbs through the winter with the help of a wood burning stove, but is that what the Lord wants me to do? I am now having trouble deciphering if the voice of practicality is coming from God, or if it's fear in God's mask. If I take my fears head-on and overcome them, will I be overcoming my fears, or doing a double whammy overcoming fear and overcoming God's desire for me right now.
I have NO doubt that His dreams for me are bigger than my own. I have no doubt that He is preparing me for a life of grandiosity one hundred times more full than I will ever imagine. But when do we start, God? I am sick of sitting around and waiting. A season of waiting is always healthy, but I am ready and willing to do, now. More than ever. More than EVER.
Maybe the question of "Why am I here?" That I've been asking since April is not the right question anymore. Perhaps I should be asking, "When and how do we start?".
The Art of Non-Conformity did not come off of the "Christian Inspiration" shelf, and doesn't have a God to answer to in chapter three. I do. I have a God to answer to. I don't HAVE to answer to him. But I want to. Alas- Here I am, all comfortable and warm in a suburban home, using wifi and drinking coffee made in the fully equipped kitchen. In a way, I am overcoming my fear. I fear stability and comfort in an odd way. How's that for backwards?
I feel like a kid on Christmas eve. I want to run downstairs and look under the tree, start opening all the gifts. But they're not ready yet. Tomorrow they'll be ready, and there will be twice as many if I wait patiently.
Now that I've taken all this time to talk about myself, I want to challenge you to overcome your fears. Dream really, really big! Don't ask for small stuff. The Giver of these gifts does not like to work with mediocre dreams. So dream it big, write it down, and start discerning what fears you must overcome. Get inspired. We are created in the image of One who never does anything mediocre. A wild, and out of this world desire is planted deeply in all of us. Don't fear the idea of it. Fear the idea of not doing it.
Overcoming fear is a fairly large obstacle to overcome in life, and chapter three in this book here is dedicated to talking about it and telling me that I should do it. Overcome it! Get past it! The pages are peppered with stories of various people overcoming some sort of conventional conformity that they fear letting go of to do something huge, drastic, and life-changing. In the margins are little quotes like, "The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearful you will make one."
I agree whole-heartedly with all of this. The author doesn't know this, but he's preaching to the choir as I thumb through these pages internally cheering for all those people who made it into chapter three for overcoming their fears. I flew to Scotland by myself for three months when I was fresh out of high school. My car broke down in Colorado for three weeks until I could get it fixed so I used that as a springboard to do something I've always wanted to do: I hitchhiked everywhere to get around. I rode across the country with a stranger from Craigslist only to end up penniless in beach-town in Central California for the sake of living the adventure I've always dreamed of. I will do it. I have been extremely shy and introverted most of my life, but I will step past that for the sake of doing what I want in life (thanks Mom, for the gusto attitude of taking life and making it what I want. That is certainly a quality passed down from her). But for some reason I am reading this chapter through a different lens today than I would have a year ago.
Now reading this chapter about fear, and making lists of all these weird things I want to be doing with my life I am questioning myself. A bigger priority than ever before is listening to the Lord in my decisions. I find this odd thing happening as I'm doing this. He's... He's kind of holding me back. Or is he?
There is ALWAYS a fear when I start doing crazy things. Sometimes they manifest themselves very physically making me want to quit. When I lived out of my car two summers ago in Colorado I got so sick of it. I couldn't sleep at night for fear of an officer finding me and giving me the boot out of town, and I started to get horrible chest pains. I remember crying in my car sitting outside the hospital wanting to go in so badly to have someone take care of me and let me lay down in a bed for awhile. I also knew that I'd be paying off that hospital visit for a long time to come. And somewhere inside me I also knew that my chest pains were only coming from stress. I didn't go in. I sucked it up as much as I could, and I lived out of my car from May until September and soon came to LOVE it. Truly, I mourned a little bit the day I moved into a house with a king-sized bed in my room. The bed was bigger than my car.
I'd do it again in the heartbeat. I'd have fears again. But is that what the Lord wants me to do? I dream of buying a bus and putting a few beds in there, traveling across country. But is that what the Lord wants me to do? I'd buy a huge tent and live on someone's farm out here in the Western Suburbs through the winter with the help of a wood burning stove, but is that what the Lord wants me to do? I am now having trouble deciphering if the voice of practicality is coming from God, or if it's fear in God's mask. If I take my fears head-on and overcome them, will I be overcoming my fears, or doing a double whammy overcoming fear and overcoming God's desire for me right now.
I have NO doubt that His dreams for me are bigger than my own. I have no doubt that He is preparing me for a life of grandiosity one hundred times more full than I will ever imagine. But when do we start, God? I am sick of sitting around and waiting. A season of waiting is always healthy, but I am ready and willing to do, now. More than ever. More than EVER.
Maybe the question of "Why am I here?" That I've been asking since April is not the right question anymore. Perhaps I should be asking, "When and how do we start?".
The Art of Non-Conformity did not come off of the "Christian Inspiration" shelf, and doesn't have a God to answer to in chapter three. I do. I have a God to answer to. I don't HAVE to answer to him. But I want to. Alas- Here I am, all comfortable and warm in a suburban home, using wifi and drinking coffee made in the fully equipped kitchen. In a way, I am overcoming my fear. I fear stability and comfort in an odd way. How's that for backwards?
I feel like a kid on Christmas eve. I want to run downstairs and look under the tree, start opening all the gifts. But they're not ready yet. Tomorrow they'll be ready, and there will be twice as many if I wait patiently.
Now that I've taken all this time to talk about myself, I want to challenge you to overcome your fears. Dream really, really big! Don't ask for small stuff. The Giver of these gifts does not like to work with mediocre dreams. So dream it big, write it down, and start discerning what fears you must overcome. Get inspired. We are created in the image of One who never does anything mediocre. A wild, and out of this world desire is planted deeply in all of us. Don't fear the idea of it. Fear the idea of not doing it.
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