the first of december

I haven't written anything in a while.

who am i, anyway?

who am i, anyway?

i'm sick of feeling this pressure to be one thing or another.
i thought i was past that . . . had given it to God and grown through needing affirmation from people to be whole.

maybe so much so that in letting go of needing to prove myself,
i've lost sight of who i wanted to be.

which makes me wonder who exactly i was to start with.
was i only seeking after jesus because it's "right"? am i back to that place again?
am i back wanting to be like christ more than to love christ?

"lord i'm letting go. please . . . don't let go of me."

hello, fall

i bought a pair of sunglasses from walgreens. they're pretty fly.
also some winter shirts from american apparel. again, fly.



the leaves are beginning to turn,
and the air smells crinkly crisp crunchy
like nutmeg
and old books with new beginnings.


hello, fall.


(winter, come quick! but not too quick.)

old songs

you sing

and even now

it gets to me.

"In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple."

You would leave Your whole flock

Ransack the house for this coin

I'm still a long way off

But You've found me

I just don't feel much

like myself lately, you know?

"It's the art of feeling naked in your clothes."

"Love is a dress you make long to hide your knees."

I like writing.
It's one of those things I've learned to be okay with being bad at.

Much like art, humor, and sometimes cooking.

I did make one mean pot of gumbo today, though.



American Airlines

Window seat in the upright position
Traveler in a forward lean
Poised to watch the darkness passing

Atlanta's outshining anything
The night sky has to offer
This weary evening

Her winding streets form their own constellations
Her parkways a million material milkyways
Over the cusp of our plane's right wing

And I'm feeling guilty
To gasp and gawk at the sights below
For missing the real light show

Blackened out by nightlife

"A glass can only spill what it contains."

I could write my senior thesis on the first tracks of Death Cab for Cutie albums if such a thesis was allowed. I don't think it is, though.


Last week at Ridgecrest was a rollercoaster. I've yet to really grasp what God is teaching me and I'm still too drained to begin to explain.

The last few days in Arkadelphia weren't what I expected in the least bit. I desperately hope I haven't made the wrong decision with Ouachita.

I have three things I would like to say today. First, while you were sleeping last night, 30,000 kids died of starvation or diseases related to malnutrition. Second, most of you don't give a shit. What's worse than that, third, you're more upset with the fact that I said "shit" than the fact that 30,000 kids died last night.

--Tony Campolo

wide awake (again).

it's saturday and i can't sleep--nothing's new.
it doesn't even seem worth the effort to capitalize things when all i want to do is sleep and all i can do is complain about it.




there is one person in this whole entire world capable of breaking every wall i've built up and every peace i've settled to

with one glance

and if i only had the faintest idea why, i wouldn't feel so miserably helpless watching those walls fall and that peace shattered




i'm glad to be getting away next week.




i'm thoroughly enjoying the bell jar. it's hauntingly lovely.

also, i'm discovering more and more about what God would have me spend my life doing. I can't even explain how good He is to me.

wide awake

i've been writing a lot lately, mainly because i haven't been able to sleep.



sometimes in very odd situations or at the most nonsensical times,

such as while making a peanutbutter and jelly sandwich
or driving home in a lightning storm
or watching a documentary about the pope at three forty-seven in the morning (right now)

i think i would like to spend my life making music.


that's a rather strange dream, and not because of its impracticality and definately not because of its uniqueness, and not even because i lack any impressive skills on an instrument and dislike my own singing voice, but because i've never tried to write music.

i'll let you in on a little secret about myself . . .
(i'm terrified of failing.)

so i've never tried.


and i'm not completely positive just why i would like to spend my life making music.


i've never been interested in fame or glory or riches. in fact nothing could sound more revolting.
i wouldn't want the rockstar life or my name in lights or anything like that.

i think i'm intrigued by the idea of impacting someone else's life.
and while i realize there are many ways to do this other than writing songs and traveling around playing them for people . . .

the way the right melody can reach through to the very core of someone's being
the way music is a universal language, transcending every barrier that distance and time and money and war can construct
the way a song touches someone so intimately . . . so sincerely
is all rather romantic, i think.



but i think too much,
or so i've been told.

bold

i feel sick.



this summer i spent a week in new york, seeing the sights and loving the city.
i spent a week in new orleans, "beautifying" neighborhoods.
i spent two weeks working for my mom, helping seventh and eighth graders make marionettes and put on plays.
i spent a few days at the middle school, cleaning and painting.
i spent a week with my family, seeing the west, being amazed by creation, and kicking my feet in the pacific ocean.
i'll spend next week in north carolina learning more and laughing more and having an amazing time with the kids from fbc.
then i'll spend a few days in arkadelphia, getting a feel for what my next year there will be like.

i've spent days out with friends or family, seeing movies and sipping coffee, taking pictures and playing tennis and talking.
i've spent days at home, reading or cleaning, painting or enjoying netflix.



and i feel like i've done NOTHING of any real, eternal value this summer.



for once in my life it's not because i can't see that my life is nothing if not Christ living in me.
for once in my life i can see that loving others, selling out completely--all i have--and giving to the poor and the needy, is what Jesus talked about and what living faith looks like.

for once i gave up a summer of working and making money and spending it frivilously on fun and entertainment to be able to spend these months serving.



and what do i have to show for it? what lives have i impacted? how has Jesus used me? when was i bold? what did i really sacrifice?

i look around for needs to be met and i don't see any. i want to do something for someone else and i don't know how.



and i feel so guilty for not seeing needs. i know they're there.
so why can't i open my eyes and see past myself?
it's not that i don't want to.



i feel like i'm stuck here waiting for something to happen . . . for a door to open to be able to live out what i'm learning . . . but in the meantime?
i feel helpless and useless.



i feel so frustrated.
what am i doing wrong?

Post Without A Point

Can I write without a real purpose or point today? Thank you for your understanding and permission.

http://www.postsecret.blogspot.com
(I wonder if people ever think this about me?)

--So, summer: only one month left. What will that month hold? Dunno. I'm not so worried about it anymore.


--I think my Netflix is lost in the mail. Uhoh.


--I bought some books today that I am pretty ecstatic to begin reading (!) I got The Bell Jar, A Clockwork Orange, and one by David Crowder on praise . . . the title escapes me.


--Mom and I spent the day together running errands and goofing off. It was fun. Me mum might be a little quirky at times . . . okay, a lot quirky at times . . . but she really is a wonderful mother and I love her.


--On a different note: I like shopping and the color pink and piercings and hiphop. If you didn't know those things about me, that's fine. But please don't tell me who am I am and who I am not.


--I'm learning more and more everyday about who Jesus is and who I am in Him. How exciting is that?


--I feel like I should tie all of these thoughts together, but I can't think of any way to do so. Have a good day all.

7/11

I'm just going to be totally honest today. If doing so makes me seem weak or stupid, that's okay. In my weakness He is strong.


Pslam 33: 6
By the word of the Lord were the heavens made,
their starry host by the breath of His mouth.


Why then do I doubt the power of God's word?
He spoke and created the world . . . the heavens . . . everything I know.
He's speaking to me and I'm afraid.

Afraid He isn't in control?
Or maybe afraid that He is.
Afraid that He has something planned that I can't handle.
Afraid that it's going to be hard and it won't be worth it.

How could I ever believe that when Christ is all that I am?
And I'm afraid following Him won't be worth the pain and the struggle and the lonliness.

How can I show other people what God's done for me when I'm broken and alone?
How can I show other people what God's done for me when I'm terrified to let Him do more?

I'm there again . . . seeing this peace the world has and trying so hard to remember that it's not real. I don't know what I'm wanting. Living a life like that will always have something missing. Because God made me to love Him. He is who I am.

I'm terrified of pain . . . terrified of feeling. But life is so much better than some numb existance.


Jesus, You are life. Teach me who I am in You.
Teach me to be that person.
Teach me to be bold.

John 15: 27
And you also must testify, for you have been with me from the beginning.

Acts 4: 20
For we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.

I must testify to how You've been with me from the beginning.
I have to tell what I've seen and heard.

Inside and Out

You foolish people! Did not the one who made the outside make the inside also?

In Luke, Jesus says to the Pharisees

Hey Pharisees,
Who you are on the outside? My father made that.
Who you are on the inside? That was him too.



Since sometime around January, I think, God has been teaching me to love who I am on the outside.

To the point that for a period I deliberately stopped wearing make-up, purposely set my alarm later to keep myself from thinking much at all about what I would wear that day, and wore my hair back, basically only brushed, for weeks.

I felt plain at best
Like a boy at worst

I've definately never worn much make-up to start with, been a fashion icon in any sense, or overly concerned myself with what was popular this day or that one, but I didn't realize just how much I was concerned with what people thought of how I looked or how much of my self-esteem was based in what boy smiled at me or what girl said I looked cute that day.

And I don't think there was anything wrong with any of the things I've had to generally renounce for a while, at least not until I relied on them to make me who I was.

And as the days and weeks and months have gone on
God has changed my heart and mind
And I've learned that Jesus loves me
That I really am beautiful just the way I am

And I've always known that, don't get me wrong
But as well as I may have known it, I don't think I believed it



So reading that verse last week in Luke came with a big realization.

In context, Jesus is telling the Pharisees that God created the outside and the inside and cares about both--that they're living right as far as people can see, but living for people to see isn't living at all--that they're following all the right rules and doing all the right things, but their hearts aren't right.

But that same truth, that God created me inside and out, took on new meaning.

I've learned to love the outside God created
What about the inside?

Ephesians 4:26

I won’t sleep tonight
I’m trekking the world ‘round
Going west
Following the banner of the sun

I can’t let it set tonight
It’s burning red
Threatening to spark the horizon
With blazing fury

As far as east from west
I am forgiven
Still I’m chasing that red burning sun
To the end of direction

Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there

Margarette died.

It hasn't been the best day.


I know God is taking care of me.
But I still, often, feel very . . .

Very alone.



No poetic language
Or scripted line
Not camera angles
Special effects
Gifted players
Or voice raised in lyric
With melody entwined

Can turn fiction real

It is those places we have been
Those sights we have seen
This emotion of our lives
That when there displayed
Resonates within

[I think I'm going to use brackets in this post]

I feel like I'm on the verge of something big.

Scary? Oh hecks yes.
Exciting? You bet.

What is it? Lord knows.

[Seriously, the Lord knows]
And that's what makes it so scary and exciting.



On a different note:
This summer has worked out so strangely
Thus far, anyhow.

[I wouldn't have it any other way.]


In Revelation, God says that when He opens a door, no one can shut it.
Not even when I turn my back and walk away, can I shut that door.
Nothing is too big for Christ. Nothing.
None of my shortcomings, none of my regrets, nothing.

So as often in the past few weeks as I've looked back and wished
I could redo
Or undo
So many things about the way I've lived my life
I know that nothing I can do can shut a door God has opened.
Nothing I do can change the perfection of His plans.

In Ephesians, Paul says that Jesus fills everything in every way.
That blows my simple little mind.
I think that is the most beautiful image of who Christ is.
I've been working for about a week now to find some way to communicate
In written word or paint or even coherent thought
The wonder that image evokes.

He fills everything in every way.
[Liz]

Funny Enough

"Junk in = junk out."
I know, yea, blah blah blah, sure.

But truth be told, I really have to watch what I listen to.

As silly or cliche as it may seem, somedays the perfect melody is all it takes to have me doodling hearts and mrs. so-and-sos.

And I promise you, I promise that

I'll run away with you

I'll run away with you

Just the right song at just the right time, and my goodbyes are scripted, my bags packed, and my future awaiting.

Our House

I don't want to be just a "humanitarian."
I don't want to be a saint.
I don't want to be a crazy martyr.

I want to have a heart that pleases Christ. I want to have a heart FOR Christ.
And I want to see other people with that same life that somehow God found in His beautiful grace to give me. The only real life I've ever known.

I don't want to be Martha. I don't want to get so caught up in doing the work that I miss what, why, for whom, I'm doing the work.

I don't want to look around in frustration because I think someone's doing something "for the wrong reason." Because I think someone "doesn't get it." Because I think that I know someone's motivation, and that I can judge their actions.

How in the world could I ever know someone else's heart?

I want to be new and I want to do what is right and I want for people to see Jesus. That's all. I don't know what else to say. I don't know how such a simple message can become so so so distorted.

And I don't know what else to do.

I don't want to be Martha. I don't want to play a part in doing the work and losing sight.
I didn't think I had, but I don't want people to look at my life and think that I have, either.

Sleeping Man

This Sunday on the subway
I met a homeless man,
And his pushcart, placed nearby,
Sleeping across three slick tangerine seats
In one corner of the C train to Brooklyn

I sat two places down
The doors pulled closed
The car pulled forward
And the man’s pushcart began to roll
Toward his resting place

Instinctively I reached for the handle
To steady the cart
As the car jerked onward into the darkness
As the man dozed into the morning


In silence we spoke
This sleeping man and I

His closed, tired eyes, told of life
My hand, bracing the buggy
And my eyes, open, simply listened
As the stories dripped from the wrinkles
Around his mouth and nose

Spilling on until our third stop
When, at the slip of my grip, I realized
That the cart was wedged to roll only a bit
And could stand on its own

But all the same I held tight to its blue plastic handle
Because I didn’t know what else I could do


And as the car swayed from side to side
Like the folded arms of a mother
Rocking her child's tears into rest
Or as a ship battered in some great gale
Fighting for equanimity

I wondered what was behind
Those closed, tired eyes

I wondered of what he dreamed

coincidence?

I am never going to be as pretty as she is.

And I think I'm more than okay with that.

5/22/07

http://www.postsecret.blogspot.com

Is this romance--a happy ending?

"In a time of sceptic moths and cynic rusts,

And fattened lives that of their sweetness tire

In a world of flying loves and fading lusts,

It is something to be sure of a desire."

"The breakfast cereal talked more than we did all day long."

One week and I'm finished with high school.

"High school"

The title has become synonymous with monotomous time wasted and superfluous drama.

"The place we can't wait to escape"


And where, exactly, are we escaping to? The real world? The real world full of real people?

I'm beginning to question how much a diploma will be able to transform the disdained "high school" persona that has come to represent my peers.


I want to live for more than today, yes, but I also want to live for more than tomorrow.

"It's hard to find a friend."

4/25/07

I don't remember the last time I authored something worth reading.

4/7/07

Loving people with all that I have is hard. It's hard because people hurt . . . because loving hurts.

"Love is watching someone die."

Ask me

I've got a lot on my mind this week and I don't think I'm going to spill it into a computer monitor this time. A lot of times, I think, I put my thoughts into words because I like to tell myself that putting those words out into the world makes this "renewing of my mind" tangible.

God says that we will seek Him and find Him when we seek Him with all of our hearts. Seeking is more than keeping my eyes open, looking intently, or searching from a vantage point. Seeking takes movement. Seeking takes action.

A journal for myself is one thing, a good thing, and to an extent that's been my intention in blogging. Sharing my experiences across cyberspace with a faceless, nameless audience, however, has become a way for me to silence that hunger to live what I'm learning and it's not enough.

I'd love to talk and laugh and pray and sing and cry with you. Let me. I'd love to tell you face to face, hand in hand, running and jumping and and dancing, who Jesus is to me and what He's showing me in my life this week. Ask me.

Some days

Some days are one of those days, you know . . .

those days when I just wish I knew how to stop thinking about him.

ridiculous, right?

Genesis 45:4

http://www.postsecret.blogspot.com


The end of Genesis concerns Joseph's reaction when his brothers come to Egypt for food during the famine Joseph actually prophesied when he interpreted the Pharoh's dream. None of Joseph's brothers recognize him, and he purposefully keeps up this deception, seemingly not out of spite (he breaks down weeping a few times) but out of a desire to test their character and see their hearts. Though he never once seems to hold onto bitterness, giving them the food they need and looking after their well-being even while he is lying to them, his outright forgiveness comes only after he realizes how broken they are.

So is Joseph justified in what he does? Or the better question, is he right in God's eyes?

Ugly

Small group was called off tonight, so Brady, Lex, and I sat in the back of the regular Sunday night service.

The question Bro. Mark asked was this: are you faithful? I'm honestly not sure that was the exact question he asked, but it was the question that God asked me. What in my life am I STILL holding onto? I feel wacked over the head with that question so consistently that lately I've been to the point where I wanted to say, "Listen, I've dealt with this Jesus. You have it all."

Of course, I was wrong in thinking so.

Last night my eyes were opened to struggles of someone close to me . . . struggles I was completely unaware of. Struggles that I share in and have been too afraid, insecure, or prideful, depending on the instance, to talk about with her.

The thing I'm still holding onto is the secrecy of my past mistakes. I'm too in love with my "I've never dealt with that" facade to be real with my closest friends, and because of that front I'm afraid that those friends haven't felt comfortable talking with me when I might have been the only person that could listen.

Not that I think I'm the only person that can ever help people or that God can't provide without my obedience, but what good comes from my mess-ups if I'm not willing to learn from them and share that knowledge? Scripture says to confess our sins to one another and pray for each other. I haven't been willing to be faithful in doing so. It's easy to assume that no one would care to hear, or that my friends, whose opinions I value, will think less of me, but "my happiness is found in less of me and more of You."

The less they think of me, the more they can see of God's grace, I think. And until I'm willing to give of myself in talking about difficult parts of my past and present, why would I expect other people to do the same?

Community is a two-way street, and I'm beginning to see that it starts with being willing to lay it all on the table--the beautiful and the ugly.

Weekend plans

I can't wait for the free time to curl up in a quilt, make a whole bunch of microwave potstickers and sweet tea, and watch movies until I fall asleep.

Answered prayers

You said, "Ask and you will recieve
Whatever you need."
You said, "Pray and I'll hear from heaven,
And I'll heal your land"

You said Your glory will fill the earth
Like water in the sea
You said, "Lift up your eyes
The harvest is here" Your kingdom is near

You said "Ask and I'll give the nations to you"
Oh Lord, that's the cry of my heart
Distant shores and the islands will see your light
As it rises on earth

If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.

-2 Chronicles 7:14




Since I can remember, I have known that. Why has it taken me eighteen years to believe it, to trust it, to put my faith and my hope in it?

Our core group is such an encouragement to me. We're finally being real and I can see God as the source of that absolutely, and blessing our willingness.

I wish I had more time to write more tonight. So much is moving around me. So many prayers are being answered, so many promises fulfilled.




He told them, "The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field."

-Luke 10:2


Pray for me, for us, for workers to send out into the harvest field?
There's nothing more I could ask for.

Lashes

I blink back thoughts
Not drippy droopy sorrow tears
Just memories and pictures and the like

And think of the one so paralyzed, so demobilized by life
That she is left with only two blinks for yes
And one for no

And if a speck of dust or a spot of must may find her eye this day
For breakfast, then, she’ll have marmalade with her toast and margarine
Or orange juice instead of 2%

Jesus loves me, this I know

I'm learning so much.

God is so big, so good.




I hope to find words to explain just what He is showing me . . . not tonight (I can barely keep my eyes open), but soon.



I'm praying for you.
Liz

Send me

I've been writing a ridiculous amount lately. From reading the entries over a week's time, or even over a day's, one would think I suffer from schizophrenia . . .

And it's true, I do.


No I'm just kidding. It does seem like I tend to turn to writing at the highest highs and lowest lows of meditation and emotion, though. I'm not sure what that says about me. I think it might be one of the things God could be revealing to me in the next week or so.


I say the next week or so for two reasons:

1. I received Velvet Elvis for my birthday from Alan. That was two days ago and I've already read half of it. It's full of new perspectives . . . so full I know I'm going to have to read it at least once more, probably a good number of times more, and much more slowly, to evaluate and absorb them all. I hope this week will be full of those new perspectives and what they mean for my life.

2. This Friday morning the FBC Student Ministry leaves for our Winter Retreat, my very last one, at Shepherd of the Ozarks. I'm already smiling with anticipation of our group of students seeing God in that place . . . and of what He might reveal to me if I could be so blessed.

3. And finally, I'm beginning this week with a lot of change to adapt to . . . to take on . . . to grow from . . . to rejoice in. I feel so aware of the freedom of following Jesus today, and of the freedom of this time in my life. I am eighteen years old. I look before me and I see the world. I used to be afraid of what my life might bring, what God's place for me in it all might be. Now, today, this moment, my worries seem so small compared to how big His plan is.



Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I. Send me!"
-Isaiah 6:8

2/18

The world would tell me that rejoicing over the end of a relationship must mean that I had readily forseen that end.

The world would say that rejoicing over the end of a relationship that made me happy makes no sense at all.

And the world couldn't be more wrong.

I know that God has a fantastic plan instore for my life and for his, my best friend. The next few weeks will probably be a lot harder than I want to realize. I may not always understand and I may not always know why or how or when, but I cannot wait to see what God is going to do through his obedience and mine.

My Abba is so amazing . . . that I can rejoice when everything is telling me that I shouldn't. That I can trust in His faithfulness and His love and His perfect plan for me. That I can ask questions without losing hope and without growing weary, always with joy in who He is and what He has done for me.



Delight yourself first in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.
-Psalm 37:4

Haunted

Today I've felt haunted by what I want so desperately to forget. Sin is more damaging than I could ever understand. If I am mourning so much the consiquences I can see, I can only imagine how God must be mourning all the consiquences I can't.

I know I am forgiven. I know I am daily being transformed by the renewing of my mind as I submit myself moment by moment to His hand.

That doesn't make my mistakes any less real or their results any less disappointing, any less devestating.

Yes, my Jesus has washed that sin away . . . But I can't take back what I've forfeited. I can't give back what I've stolen. I can't regain that part of myself, that part of God's amazing gift of a pure life that I've lost.

Today is my Birthday.

Today is my Birthday. I am turning eighteen . . .

I know, I know. It's hard to believe.

Nobody said it was easy

I don't think you have the slightest idea how many days you've left ruined

How many schedules I've rearranged
How much I've sacrificed
How much time I've invested

How many times you've let me down

I don't think you have the slightest idea how many nights I've cried myself to sleep
How many hours I've slept through to avoid facing circumstances you've created

I don't think you have the slightest idea how badly you have the ability to make me feel
How worthless
How stupid
How small

Not even the slightest idea how many moments I've wondered
How much better so many of my days might have been
If you'd never been a part of my life
How much pain I wish I could erase from my memory and you with it

How many times I've had to forget how much I think you're lying
How many excuses I've accepted at face value
Knowing how little weight they would hold if it was someone else that needed you

How many wounds I've forgiven without ever being asked

And I don't think you have the smallest idea of how much I still care for you
How much I want to believe how happy you always make me and how wonderful you always are
How much it hurts to admit anything less

I'm not angry with the situations
I'm torn by how you handle them
How you don't handle them




If I shut myself off from the world tomorrow
Know that it's because I'd rather spend the day alone
Than spend it miserable again

Wondering if you'll care enough to make five minutes to call me
And tell me happy birthday.

Wow.

When a million things are going on
When a million things are going wrong

When I have no one else in the world to confide in
No other shoulder to cry on

How big is He?
How faithful. How good.


How blessed am I
To have nothing else
To need nothing else

To want nothing else


I have an Abba who loves me.





Who LOVES me




I can't comprehend it.

Today

This is a photograph of my dad teaching me how to fish. I couldn't have been more than a few years old. It's strange to think of how much life I've lived in a little under eighteen years, and stranger still to think of how much more life I may have yet to live.

Today I am learning that becoming a Godly woman means not only growing to be Christ-like, but also growing to fulfill the specific roles of a Christ-like woman.

As of Sunday, I will be legally able to vote, along with many other things I'm unconcerned with and even more things I'm unaware of, I'm sure. I will turn eighteen. I will be recognized under law as an adult.

There is a myriad of events and experiences our society uses to define the difference between a girl and a woman. For me, my eighteenth birthday has always seemed the most fitting occurrence to signify the change.

I hardly expect to wake up Sunday morning enlightened with the wisdom, gentleness, humility, and encouraging spirit that I have come to admire in the Christian women in my life. I don't expect to wake up suddenly transformed and prepared to walk into this next stage of my life. As the day approaches I can, however, feel God's hand on my heart, awakening me more fully to my call not just as an adolescent, but as a woman, with a specific role as one in love with Jesus Christ.

The next year of my life is going to bring the most change I have experienced in my life thus far. Looking that change full in the face is more than intimidating, but I'm so thankful tonight that every day and every night I can rest on the promise that God is faithful. Psalm 75:3 has has been of special assurance for me over the past few weeks . . .

When the earth and all its people quake, it is I who hold its pillars firm.

I sometimes feel that I'm writing only for myself to read, and while I'm perfectly okay with that, I also feel a little out of place addressing only myself in such an open forum. So, for anyone who may stumble into reading this, I hope your week is full of joy and full of purpose. I'm praying for you today.

Liz

Dreaming of you . . .

I often dream so intensely that I wake up overwhelmed by the emotions of sleep--because that's what my dreams are: pure emotions manifest, void of reason.

So angered that I don't want to speak to someone for days
So ecstatic that I can't relax my smile-muscles until they start to ache
So melancholy that I cry myself back to sleep

So convinced that no matter how I imaginary I know the dream to be, no matter how many times I repudiate the events, I still can't shake the feeling.

It's a scary thing. So much so that some nights I'm fearful to fall asleep, knowing what's been on my mind that day, however irrationally or even facetiously, and knowing that those are the things that I'm prone to wake up consumed with.

I never thought sharing these dreams to be a good idea, because they're almost always unfair to others' character and harmful to relationships if taken as true to my mindset.

I don't want to have to learn for certain from experience that truth.

Ten minutes from downtown is ten minutes too far

There are so many questions I want to ask you
So many things I want to learn about you
So many experiences I want to share with you

And never enough time

So we treasure what we've got
But what we've got is wearing thin
And though I'm willing to wait to build it strong again
It's an effort of will, a choice richly bought

With fear, it seems, all mine

There are so many words I'd like to swallow
So many intuitions I wish I'd followed
So many "seems" gilded or hollow

And this is how I know:
This isn't what I imagined
It still isn't
This is exactly what I expected
It still isn't

Upon a star

Some days, I wish I wasn't so meticulous.

I wish I could effortlessly brush off all of the small, meaningless gestures as small and meaningless.

I wish I could say what I mean in a sentence, rather than a monologue.

I wish I could smile at the blue sky, satisfied at its depth and color alone, and without the smallest impulse or need to know why or how or when it found such a brilliant blue hue.

Some days I wish I wasn't such a prisoner to reason.

You know those moments?

You know those moments when you realize you've said or done something completely ridiculous, ignorant, arrogant, unfair, shallow, unintelligent, basically the very last thing you would ever want to say or do in that situation? They always seem to occur just as I think I have completely conquered an area of my life and am living a life free from susceptibility to that sin. My confidence is high, my pride-plank has taken over my vision, and I'm ready and willing to call everyone else out on their specks, the flaw that I have overcome.

Today I had one of those.

My Sociology teacher made a comment about Paul as someone of poor character. I asked her where her opinion was coming from, and she elaborated, explaining that she meant more specifically Saul, before his conversion. Then, a classmate of mine spoke up--and not just any classmate.

This classmate is that guy. You know the one. He's the most hilarious guy in the class, but has no idea. He's that guy that everyone would be laughing with, not at, if only he knew that he was so amusing. That guy who makes comparisons of everyday objects by likening them to "a battle axe and a reaper." That guy who refers to the Anglo-Saxons as "the ang-el-os." That guy who describes his encounter with Elvis at the mall last weekend, ending his monologue with "and then, we just had a moment." That guy who means well, but never quite catches on--who is by all means as intelligent as anyone else, but in a very different way. Even describing him I feel slightly negative or judgemental, but in all truth my laughter has been in good humor and out of love for who he is, at least until today.

So that guy says to me, as a follow up to my teacher's very self-explanatory, legitimate answer, "Well, you see, he used to stone the CHRISTIANS."

"Thank you, sir, this I realize. I'm not an idiot as you seem to either 1. think me to be or 2. are yourself," is what I was thinking, and to my own surprise is almost exactly what I said.

I think my words were something along the lines of "I know, I read the BIBLE."

Self-righteous, pretentious words with a matching tone was my response, and I could not feel worse.

I am the hypocrite that gives faith in Christ a shallow, self-absorbed facade. My words weren't even particularly clever or biting, and still the moment I closed my mouth I felt horrible.

It was one of those moments that no one else even much noticed or will ever remember, but it was all I could think about all day. His words hardly attacked my literacy or familiarity with scripture and definitely weren't the funniest thing he'd said this semester, and yet I seemed to think it critical to defend myself so cynically. I don't think it even phased the guy, but it revealed a part of my heart and attitudes that I didn't want to believe existed anymore.

I am prideful. So prideful. Especially and ironically most about my humility, about loving others before myself.

I feel broken, but I know it's brokenness over failing, not sinning. It's a blow to that pride ruling my life to know that I messed up today, instead of a blow to my heart to know that I could have hurt someone else and definitely hurt my Savior.

I don't know how to overcome this, and that's just it I'm seeing only now that I'm typing this. I can't overcome it. I think I must have learned this lesson at least once every day of my life for the past few months if not more often. I can't do it. He has to do it. I have to ask Him to do it, come to Him for even the desire to ask Him to do it.

I'm so sorry. Not just because I didn't have enough self-control to hold my tongue, but because of my mindset and of my heart. I'm so sorry for relying on myself, for glorying in myself.

Thank you Abba that I can't do anything on my own.

A tiny prayer to Father Time

"Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord."

I'm waiting. At least, I hope I am waiting. I want to be waiting.


I know I'm too weak to wait, to see, to follow . . .

I want desperately to be in God's will, but I can't trust myself.

I'm so afraid.

: )

This is from the hayloft of the barn on my Granpa's farm. It's not really a farm, meaning no animals have been raised and nothing besides Granpa's vineyard has been grown here in at least twenty years.

This is my favorite place on earth. It is so calming, such a beautiful piece of creation. Being there has some magical effect of always bringing a smile to my face, from the moment the rusty gate swings open to the moment I drive out of sight. I adore it.

God is so good.

I sometimes feel guilty for rejoicing in the times in my life when everything is going well. It often feels like I'm happy about the circumstances instead of the God who is in charge of them all.

On top of that, I am definitely someone that can be so weighed down not by sin itself, as His death assured that sin has no power, but by fear of sin--power that I give it--that when everything is right, when I'm in His will as far as He has shown me, seeking more of Him everyday, and following Him with all of my might, I'm still plagued by anxiety over past failure or the fear of future failure.

Today it was a little more clear to me that I'm just as called to rejoice, and just as wrong not to, in happiness or sadness. When I read Paul's words that "I'm learning to be content whatever the circumstances," I'm led immediately to think that "whatever the circumstances," especially in the context of the poor health and constant political turmoil he endured, certainly is synonymous with "whatever the misery."

I thought that these circumstances must be horrible to necessitate learning to be content, but just as easy as losing joy in Jesus in struggles is being overwhelmed, even in the face of living everyday seeing God's glory, with worry constantly about what could go wrong next. Paul's words read both ways. He says "whatever the circumstances" and "whatever" means just that. I've got to learn to be content in bad times, yes, but also must I actively seek to be content in good times.

I'll never be content with seeing as much of God as I am at any moment, because there is always more of Him to see, but being happy with the plan He has set forth for my life at this moment is not the same as being satisfied with stagnation in my relationship with Him.

And being happy about having everything in place, for a time at least, in my life isn't wrong as long as that joy comes from seeing through the wonderful circumstances to the wonderful God who made it all and gave it all. In fact, the very foundation of my days being so good is that daily I am seeing more of God . . . and knowing that, I can't think of any reason not to rejoice.

Willing

Let all the earth fear the Lord;
Let all the people of the world revere Him.
For He spoke and it came to be;
He commanded and it stood firm.
-Psalm 33: 8-9

I began reading through Pslams chapter by chapter I don't even remember how long ago, and every time I would come upon a verse mentioning "fear of the Lord" I would immediately jump back in apprehension. Why should I be afraid of this amazing God that loves me, that made me and saved me?

While I knew that "fear" didn't mean literal fright, my mind still flew immediately to that conclusion. Even after referencing such passages in concordances and commentaries in an attempt to understand, I came to a definition of "fear" as respect.

Respect.

My understanding of the word "respect" was too simple, too detached, to be able to apply to such an awesome, personal Savior.

And then, even after meditating on the verses and asking God to reveal to me just what it meant to fear Him, I still was left without any real comprehension as I know it to feel. I had no joy over learning a new truth or being able to see Him work it out in my life, and I knew it was because even though I'd read over and over again what fearing God meant, and maybe even understood with my mind, it hadn't clicked in my heart.

Last night it clicked in Pslam 33. Fearing the Lord is knowing Him, purely and simply, and being amazed by what I know, to stand back and say, "Wow, look at all He has done and can do, and more than that, look at who He is."

Where this really took hold in my life is in grasping His power. The next verse in Pslam 33 reads:

The Lord foils the plans of the nations;
He thwarts the purposes of the peoples.
But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever,
The puposes of his heart through all generations.
-Psalm 33: 10-11

It is so easy to look forward to the next stage in my life: graduation, college, marriage, a family, serving God for the rest of my life. While I don't think there's anything wrong with anticipating the great blessings to come in my life, I know that there is something wrong with being so wrapped up in that anticipation that I forget His plan for me RIGHT NOW.

"So, ok. I get it. God has a plan for me right now. Easy enough. I should be satisfied with that plan now until these other things come."

That's what I thought. "Certainly God has something for me to do now. Obviously it's probably not as great as what's coming and definately not as important, but I should be obedient and at least sort of look for whatever it is I've got to do right now so I can get to that better part coming."

And on top of that entirely wrong mindset, I had basically convinced myself that whatever it was God had to do with me in high school and at home, that it was more or less limited to me. He was teaching ME something, preparing ME for the future. My whole outlook was consumed with myself, in part because I was so self absorbed and in part because I failed to truly believe that God could do something big outside of me, in my school or home or town or state or country or world.

The plans of the Lord stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through ALL GENERATIONS.

He has a plan, a fantastic, unfathomable, joyous plan, and not only did it exist long ago, it DOES exist. It WILL ALWAYS exist. Hearing Jason talk about God being up to something big was hard for me to grasp. I had so limited Him by human standards, by my own sins and shortcomings, that I was sure there was no way God could be up to something big where I was. Somewhere else? sure. Anywhere I could see and experience firsthand? I just didn't believe it. I knew it, but I didn't believe it. Last night I realized that difference as well.

God is SO much bigger than me. Jesus died for my iniquity, and in His death put to death the hold of sin over my life. Why then do I so hang onto it as reason that God can't work through me? Or that He can't work through any sinner only willing to give his or her life to Him?


So what now, right? If I'm filled with such a fear for God, and I believe that He can and is doing something huge, and that He could and does want to use me, then how? When? Where?

Fear the Lord, you His saints,
for those who fear Him lack nothing.
- Psalm 34: 9

Nothing. They lack nothing. My part is to seek Him, to pray for that desire to seek Him and to work with all of my heart and soul and mind and strength to recieve that desire for and joy in Him that only He can give. If I could do any of it on my own, to who would the glory be? Myself. Praise God that the power and the glory aren't mind, that I don't know when and where and how, only that He is up to something gigantic, and that He provides everything I could ever need, if I only am willing.

Blessed Assurance

It is so reassuring to me to come before God in His word expecting that day specifically to read and hear only what is on my mind that day, be it to receive guidance and conviction for a struggle, or to pray His words in praise, or to find fresh insight into a complicated truth, and instead to be surprised by exactly what He would have that day, not what I thought I needed.

It's reassuring to know that I am not searching alone. If I was, I would see only what I could look for.

It's reassuring to be reminded once again that His plan is so much bigger, so much better, so much more perfect and glorious and joy-giving than mine could ever be.



Tonight I read from Luke 7 the story of the faith of the centurion, and then of Jesus raising a widow's son.

He was not far from the house when the centurion sent friends to say to him: "Lord, don't trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. 7That is why I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you. But say the word, and my servant will be healed. 8For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, 'Go,' and he goes; and that one, 'Come,' and he comes. I say to my servant, 'Do this,' and he does it."

9When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd following him, he said, "I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel." 10Then the men who had been sent returned to the house and found the servant well.

I feel so small at the absolute power and overwhelming authority of God. Everything is under His hand. With but a word He commands it all. How small are my worries in the sight of God.. how insignificant, how trivial.. and still He can speak and make all right, praise the Lord not right as I would have it be, but as He would.

13When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry."

14Then he went up and touched the coffin, and those carrying it stood still. He said, "Young man, I say to you, get up!" 15The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother.

How fantastic is Christ's mercy, how wide, how deep.. in the ultimate act of grace He gave His life for my sin, that I might see and rejoice in the glory of God, and in the smallest, most tender moment He wipes away a woman's tears. What stood out most in this passage to me was that as Jesus performed the amazing miracle of raising a man from death, still He takes the care to take the boy and return him to His mother's arms. The phrase "tender mercies" never meant so much to me.



This evening I found Christ's character.. in His authority in all things and faithfulness in my life, in His tender mercy.. when I instead wanted to find direct words of relief from worry and fear, that everything would be "ok" as I wanted it.. and how wonderfully so. Everyday it seems I find myself lost in myself. Every night I go to sleep with His peace transcending my heart and mind, and wake up fearful again. Everday I look for comfort in myself, in others, in scripture as I would like it to say, and everday I relearn the same basic truth: in Christ's character is my peace.

Tanka (4/06)

I once thought I could
Hold your whole world in my hands
Now I know I can
Not because I'm so special
But because your world's so small

"So this is the New Year," as the saying goes

But I do feel different.

In 2007 I hope to read more books
To spend more time in creation
Dancing
Playing basketball, however horribly

And to smile more often

In 2007 I hope to be more punctual
And more dependable

I hope to fill my life with people I respect
And to filter out the values and priorities of modern American culture
In favor of the things of God

I hope to take myself a lot less seriously

I hope to speak less and listen more

I hope to learn the value of simplicity, silence, and spontenaiety

And to write as one with honest struggles
Rather than one with aspirations of inspiration

I hope finally to turn my focus outside of myself
And to find strength and purpose for all of these things
And for my entire life
In the joy of brokeness in Jesus Christ