life-iversary

I'm already running late for my class, so I'll make this quick.
It is sometimes unsettling how ironic life can be. With all the stress of my show (that is a whole separate story) and not getting sleep, I completely ignored the most thoughtful day of the year.
Usually, on the first weekend or so of November, I take a day to pray and thank God for my life. I tend to write something on that day as well. I guess this is my belated thoughtful day. 

I have grappled with death for most of my young life. The comfort of it allures me and the endless pressure of being alive exhausts me. A few years ago, near the first weekend of November, I was ready. I was selfish and wanting to be done. But I was stopped. Not by a fire, not by a storm, not by a wind or an earthquake. I was stopped by a gentle whisper. He whispered "Live" and breathed His peace into me.

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of putting up an installation centering around the idea of abundance and human reaction to overgrowth. It explored how too much of something and living life trying to be in control often leads to extinguishing joy.  In hindsight, it makes so much sense that would be on my "life-iversary." I tried to control my life and it almost led me straight to death.

I want to encourage you to live with open hands. Receive the love, blessings, and peace that come from knowing Jesus. Life will not be easy to live. However, you will have a hope to hold on to.
And that will make all the difference.

Psalm 42

  As a deer pants for flowing streams,

so pants my soul for you, O God.

  My soul thirsts for God,

for vthe living God.

When shall I come and appear before God?

  My tears have been my food

day and night,

while they say to me all the day long,

“Where is your God?”

  These things I remember,

as I pour out my soul:

how I would go with the throng

and lead them in procession to the house of God

with glad shouts and songs of praise,

a multitude keeping festival.

Why are you cast down, O my soul,

and why are you in turmoil within me?

fHope in God; for I shall again praise him,

my salvation and my God.

My soul is cast down within me;

therefore I remember you

from the land of Jordan and of iHermon,

from Mount Mizar.

Deep calls to deep

at the roar of your waterfalls;

all your breakers and your waves

have gone over me.

  By day the Lord commands his steadfast love,

and at night his song is with me,

a prayer to the God of my life.

  I say to God, my rock:

“Why have you forgotten me?

Why do I go mourning

because of the oppression of the enemy?”

  As with a deadly wound in my bones,

my adversaries taunt me,

while they say to me all the day long,

“Where is your God?”

Why are you cast down, O my soul,

and why are you in turmoil within me?

Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,

my salvation and my God.

It is strange how cyclical life is.
While making coffee this morning, I listened to a praise song built around Psalm 42 . Suddenly, feelings and memories from 2012 came back to me. That Psalm meant so much to me then. In fact, it was so relevant to my life that I wrote this post. Although I am at such a different place than I was then, the Psalm is still so relevant. I became sad last night thinking about how I'm not going to be a student anymore. I'm by no means terrified of the future or what is to come. I think I grew sad because I am leaving a unique time that has been so littered with beautiful things.

It is a little cliché to compare the academic journey to a storm, but I am. So many times, I felt the "breakers and waves" crash over me with late nights, early mornings, broken sculptures, failed attempts, missing classes, and lots of crying. So many times, professors, classmates, and friends have asked me "where is your God?" The panic has set in and my soul has been cast down.

Even this week, as the shore became nearer, I asked "God, why this storm?"
Psalm 42 told me why today.
My wins and accomplishments have been blessings.
My losses have proved that I am only satisfied in my Lord.

In closing, I want to encourage you. God is not only the director of storms. He is loving on you during the day, and singing to you at night. He remembers you and He saves you. He is with you in the deep.

(there's probably a better word for this)

it is kind of amazing how proud we can become of the people we love. don't get confused. it's not the sort of pride that puffs up our ego, though. it's the pride that only brings us humility.
(there's probably a better word for this feeling)

it seems like the more we love someone, the more we want to share the joy that we find in their wonderful attributes. if you ask me about my sister, i will smile as i tell of her growth and beauty. if you wanted me to share about what david's up to, i would probably not stop for a breath while telling you how much strength of character he has. if you were to mention my mom, i couldn't begin to tell you all the wonderful things she has done. there are so many other people in my life that i am immensely proud of.

but absolutely none of them compare to my Jesus.

something happened the other day that reminded me of how proud i was of Him. tuesday i was in the gym, sweating and whatnot. these days, i do not have much time for attending church and i do not have many people to fellowship with, so to temporarily (i want to emphasize the fact that this is very very temporary. i believe in the importance of the church and fellowship) replace those things, i listen to sermons/praise music almost constantly. my favorite place to do that is the gym because honestly, who doesn't get a little bored cycling/running/etc? anyway, i was cycling and listening to Travis Jones (if you haven't checked out Silverdale Saturday Nights podcast, you should) and he was sharing a story about his time in Africa. the story was essentially about how a young man came to faith in the midst of a muslim community. at the moment of his conversion, the people around him tried to intervene, but the young man was given the strength and focus to continue with his repentance and prayer. after hearing that story, my eyes began to grow misty.
before i knew it, tears were running slowly down my face. at first i thought i was crying because i was miserably hot and tired...but that wasn't the case. i was crying because i was so proud. as i heard about that young man, i thought to myself my Lord and Savior is astounding. He forgives our sins and enriches our lives. He is worth our suffering and praise and He deserves every single bit of it. at that moment in the gym, if you had seen me, you would have thought i was nuts. i was drenched in sweat, my hair was crazy, tears were on my face, and i was smiling.

i wanted to write about this on here because i am so proud. i am proud of my Redeemer and Friend. He absolutely never lets me down and He always fulfills His promises to me.

the amazing thing is that He is big enough to do that for me, you, and that young man somewhere in Africa.

so yeah, Jesus is King. and i like that.

on summer,choices, and other things.

i thought this summer was going to be a relaxing summer.

oh how naive i was.

i literally had no idea what i was getting myself into when i started taking summer classes. i thought "oh i'm going to read and learn french and then have the rest of the day to do whatever i want!"...yeah that's not the case.
that especially became evident to me this week when i started at work. i mean, i am beyond happy about having a job (after applying to 30+different places...) it just means that i will have even less free time than before. that said, i think it's a really good summer to learn the value of hard work and cultivate my ability to make choices with my responsibilities and well-being in mind. because i work a morning job, i have to go to sleep earlier than i have in a long time. because i have papers to write, i have to find a place i can focus and get them done quickly (preferably a few days before the deadline...no procrastinating in the summer). because i have new french homework everyday, i have to make time for it everyday.
consequently, it's been interesting to see what "free time" looks like when you legitimately don't have any. i have begun to value gym time more and i love that after i shower, i have about thirty minutes where i just sit on the porch with the cat and breathe. being alone hasn't been as much as a concern as being healthy/happy. and honestly, i think that's a gift from God.
there's been a lot said about making choices. there have been whole books written about how the wrong choices can destroy your life or whatever. but i guess what i'm getting to see first-hand is how making right choices can bless your life. i really do have free will. i have to make the choice about all the busy aspects of my life. it is my call whether or not i'm going to make the right or wrong one. i am given complete freedom to make mistakes and i know that. but man, when i make the choice to go to bed, run another lap, learn concepts thoroughly, or wake up a little earlier for work so that i can have time with Jesus, the blessings are enough of an incentive to get me to keep going down that straight and narrow way.
so yeah, i guess this summer hasn't been relaxing. it really has been difficult thus far. but it's been peaceful. and that's enough for me.

like a little wind

i am sitting in the willow tree on a tuesday without david. that has not happened in quite a while. 
it is strange to realize that i am entering the very last "summer" of my life. obviously, summer will exist after i graduate. but it will be different. consequently, today i have been mulling over the nature of change. 

john steinbeck has this to say about change:
“men do change, and change comes like a little wind that ruffles the curtains at dawn, and it comes like the stealthy perfume of wildflowers hidden in the grass."

that is a near-perfect description of change. it is very 'neaky (as my little niece and nephew say). but it is also beautiful. this summer is a change. i am usually preparing to leave for camp right about now. then i spend the whole summer loving on children and sharing the Gospel and not sleeping enough. instead, right now i am working on homework and planning what to get when i go grocery shopping. it is difficult to accept that grocery shopping and homework is just as wonderful as being a camp counselor. but that's a part of why this summer is happening, i think.

i am learning that it is exciting to not be sure what my "task" is. it is exciting to learn that having joy and contentment is a choice that i have to make everyday. it is exciting to have so much predictability this summer. it is exciting to have free time. and it is exciting to be able to have time to process the changes as they become apparent.

notes on the notion of being fastened (in love).

i wrote this morning for the first time in months. i typed this out: "this has been the semester of things not working out." and then breathed a sigh.
that's not completely the truth. obviously there have been some joyful moments of smooth sailing and fun times.
but the majority of the time, it has been the case. papers, sculptures, classes, fun plans, seeing my family, and (most recently) wedding showers have just not been able to happen the way that i had hoped. sometimes that has been a good lesson of patience or submission to God's plan. sometimes it's only resulted crushing disappointment. i feel a little beaten at the close of this semester.

that said, a comforting truth has become quite real to me this week.
in the ever-popular hymn "come thou fount of every blessing," the author wrote these words:

praise the mount, i'm fixed upon it / mount of Thy redeeming love

as i said before, this semester-and really this year-has been a real doozy. it has left me spinning, straying, doubting, and pouting. i can openly acknowledge the fact that i have not been seeking Christ as i should. i have not felt His presence or heard His voice. but i am fixed upon the mount of His redeeming love.
the word "fixed" is defined as follows:

fixedfikst/adjective
1.fastened securely in position.
"a fixed iron ladder down the port side"

synonyms:

fastened

i am so wide-eyed and wild in this season. i am frightened and running any way i think is going to bring me peace. i have longed for my Father and have lost faith in the fact He longs for me.
my heart has stopped conversing with my head and my knowledge of His goodness is overshadowed with my own feeling of being abandoned.
and yet.
i am fixed upon a great mountain of mercy, life, and redeeming love.
i am fastened securely in a position that was specially made for me long ago.
i am His and there is nothing in the world that is going to change that.
although i am not in yet in a season of sweet communion with the Father, i am at a new level of peace.
i know for a fact that He cannot turn His back on me. even when i wander and attempt to leave the God i love, i am all the while fastened tightly to His heart.

all at once i knew, i was not magnificent

i hate feeling weak.
whether it is a physical or a mental or a spiritual or an emotional shortcoming, it doesn't matter. i still hate it. Thanksgiving was a lovely time with my family and friends and rest, but my weakness became more and more apparent. my inability to rightly deal with disappointments and my own sin mounted until the night before i left to come back to Johnson City.
when i could no longer handle it i laid in my dark, warm bedroom and i cried. that frustrated me further and made me feel even weaker. so (of course) i fought the tears valiantly. but even then i lost. instead of sobbing for a few minutes and being done with it, i laid for four hours with my throat tight, my eyes burning, and a small pool of tears accumulating on my pillow.
on the drive back to school, the sun rose. the moon hung silvery and crescent-shaped. there were stars in the dark blue sky along with the rose-colored signs of dawn.
it was breathtaking.
then all at once i knew, i was not magnificent. i am weak.. i am foolish and irrational and it is so good/painful to be reminded of that. but that is how it is supposed to be. if i was strong and wise and perfect i wouldn't be in desperate need of saving.
so i guess what i am saying is this post-thanksgiving season has gotten me thinking about what i am thankful for. presently, i am so grateful for this:


      But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise;God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of Him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”
- 1st Corintians 1:26-31


God chooses the weak. the foolish. even the despised.
and gifts them with strength. with wisdom. with redemption.

and turns them into something glorious.

that's totally worthy of gratitude.

hocus pocus focus locus

the amount of focused i have been this semester is a little magical to me. i have not just "skipped class", i have not procrastinated (half as much), i have gotten sleep (most of the time), have kept a (somewhat steady) workout routine, and have spent time with Jesus everyday.

if you know me, this is not at all congruous with my typical disheveled self. if i didn't know any better, i would say that a dramatic personality shift has taken place.

but this, in fact, is not at all true.

the biggest contributing factor (to my whole life but also) to this semester's success is the letting go of my (feeble) belief in the idea that my locus of control is internal. a whole-hearted surrendering to Jesus Christ every day has relieved the pressure and left only passion for (most of) the subjects i've been given to study (this statement excludes statistics. i have no passion for it. whatsoever. ew). 

within two weeks i have: cast bronze, written and presented an abstract for a research paper, began my last sculpture of the semester, thrown up outside of michael's, heard a poetry reading, worked with a world class artist, fell more in love with east tennessee, grown more fond of david, signed up for spring classes, and found out a definite graduation date.

that has left me a bit (emotionally and, at certain times, physically) dizzy. but there is still a peaceful gratitude that pervades my relationships, my speech, and even the way i plan. i am fully confident that "today" comes and goes like a wind. that thought just doesn't distress me as it used to. the time for me to know "where i'm going" is approaching so quickly, but i have never been so at peace with not knowing as i am now.

i don't believe in an external locus of control that leaves my life up to chance. that would be a miserable existence. instead, i rest boldly in the knowledge that i have a loving, guiding, ever-present Father. He is there. with me. 

alwaysalwaysalways. 

so as i am thinking on graduation and finals and a new year and growing older, i am unconcerned with the possibility that my fragile plans will fall through or that i will get hurt or even that i may fail at something crucial in my life. 

i know that He is with me. and that is enough.


post-script: this post is really scattered and unfocused. and it initially was supposed to be about how focus has become a part of my life. the irony abounds.

and you don't know why

i lack organization skills and i have a terrible logical flow.
so i'm going to split this post into two stories that come to one conclusion about my generation and society at large.
i hope that's alright.

A. last night, i had the incredible privilege to see five bands play that i know and respect on a college campus. they were all very talented in their own right, and i enjoyed them immensely.
the highlight of the night for me, though, was listening to my long-time favorite, night beds.

winston yellen sauntered onto the stage and my anticipation grew. he was obviously nervous (and slightly intoxicated) but as soon as he began to sing, that didn't matter. there is a vulnerability and a power to yellen's music that is almost prayer-like. his rhythms tend to be deeply rooted .if his music could lean into any genres it would be old-style country or jazz. that said, there is something intensely spiritual and introspective about his work, regardless of his broken worldview.

so he's up there, singing us soft songs about love and darkness and isolation. the words are piercing and relatable. i took a look around me, and the majority of the students there had blank expressions on their faces and looked like could not care less. stuff like that slays me.

B. last week, i was driving home to open for my largest musical inspiration (courtney marie andrews).  i was obviously nervous (but not intoxicated...just didn't want that parallel to yellin to cause any confusion) so i listened to the radio all the way to chattanooga. i generally stick to npr, the classical station, or oldies when i do turn on my radio. but this time, i just put on the "mainstream" music.

it was almost incredible to me that, song after song, what was being expressed (under a disguise of whiny voices and identical musical structures) was always apathy and despair and a longing for sexual satisfaction. those things all go hand-in-hand. those kinds of emptinesses (that's probably not a word) all point to Christ. and no one can see that. stuff like that slays me.

both of these stories are stark pictures of my generation (and society at large). we are a generation that suffers from intense isolation (due to whatever thing you want to blame it on) and a loose understanding of love and friendship. we are afraid to care about anything (like the students i mentioned) because we are afraid of being rejected from our peer group and becoming an unloved outcast. we are afraid to care about soulful things because we know that if we look long enough, we will see our weaknesses. we are afraid to be sober because we know that, in an a state aware of pain, we will be sad. we are afraid to be alone, but also afraid to be committed to loving someone else. we are afraid to do all these things. so we become sketch-like renditions of humans with hearts instead of the real deal.

the saddest thing about all of this, is that none of it is new. we are living in an ecclesiastical world where everything, even my life or your life, is a vapor. and when we live without the empowering love of Christ and the enabling grace of God and the inspiring fire of the Holy Spirit, it is indeed a vapid life.

the most joyous thing about all of this, is that we don't have to be apathetic and despondent. we have the choice (what a beautiful word) to commit to something real. it is a scary choice, so scary that many turn away from it, but it is the best one.

the lyrics to one song by night beds are:

when the sorrow comes,
and you don't know why,
come into my arms.
i'll hold you through the night.
and in the morning light,
we'll be sure to find
a kind of love so strong
it will make us cry faithful heights.

i know you get lost sometimes, man
i know you get lost.
i know you get lost sometimes, man
i know you get lost.
whenever you get lost, man
whenever you get lost, man
whenever you get lost, man
whenever you get lost 
hold my hand.

yellen usually performs this song without music. his voice rises up like a plaintive prayer.
this song is like what Jesus calls out to us. He assures us that when the sorrow comes and we don't know why, He alone is the one to hold us. He leads us to a powerful love. He brings us to our knees.

but until you or i or anyone else acknowledges that He is there and He is love and He is all,

we are lost.

don't choose to live a small, a frightened, and an aimless life, there is so much in this world (and infinitely more in the spiritual world) to actually care about.

may His beauty rest upon me.

i feel like i always have things i want to write about, but i never get the time to really sit down and write. much of my time is spent doing school which is draining and interesting and i never quite feel like i'm done. but that's alright.
this week i have felt so many blessings. blessings in my relationships, blessings in academics, and blessings in things like feeling made beautiful and loved by my Savior.
last weekend, i brought david home to meet the family (talk about a strange experience) and it was all sunshine and meeting people and seeing loved ones. during church we sang a hymn that touched my heart so deeply. it's been my anthem all semester and i haven't even known it. katie barclay wilkinson gave me words to quantify what i've been feeling as of late.

and it's perfect:

May the mind of Christ my Savior
Live in me from day to day,
By His love and pow’r controlling
  All I do and say.

May the Word of Christ dwell richly
In my heart from hour to hour,
So that all may see I triumph
  Only through His pow’r.

May the peace of Christ my Savior
Rule my life in every thing,
That I may be calm to comfort
  Sick and sorrowing.

May the love of Jesus fill me,
As the waters fill the sea;
Him exalting, self abasing,
  This is victory.

May I run the race before me,
Strong and brave to face the foe,
Looking only unto Jesus
  As I onward go.

May His beauty rest upon me
As I seek the lost to win,
And may they forget the channel,
  Seeing only Him.

-Katie Barclay Wilkinson.

as i sit here

as i sit here, on my couch, i am perpending the sensations of wonder that have come during the days that most recently passed (for they have been beautiful days). the sounds of the approaching night are wandering in through the screen door and my mouth tastes of honey-sweet coffee and dark purple muscadines that only arrive at the conclusion of summer.
nothing monumental has been done today, but the momentous nature of the day weighs upon me. i remember feeling an intense fear for the first time this day. i was a small child, still unable to grasp many of the dark emotions that seem to dominate this world. i did not know what hate really was, but i knew, while watching that square television screen, what hate looked like. i didn't know what grief really was, but i knew, while watching my mother cry and hearing my dad's distorted voice on the phone, what grief looked like.
it's crazy to think about the freedom i have on this earth because of the multitude of people that have ended their stories and slept forever for this country.
it's even more bizarre to realize that the physical freedom i have right now, on this couch with my friends so near and the lovely trees outside my window and the satisfaction of a day well-spent, is so pale and small and tenuous compared to how free i really am. one man, who was also God, who was also man, died and felt alone and lived a life despised by many (if not all) people, for this soul of mine. for that soul of yours. and for the two thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-six souls that found themselves without bodies on this day, twelve years ago.

i am free.
you are free.

but we aren't quite yet to the true "sweet land of liberty."
so hold fast.

summer debriefing project. week eight.

this is the final week of my project. i'm home now. and although life is wonderful and full of nice things to share here, it's strange to blog about being home the same as i do camp/haiti. so i'm stopping after this.

so dramatic.

anyway, the summer at camp ended quietly. nothing too ridiculous happened. so i'm just going to make a list.

this summer was:

the summer of the chant. we chanted everyone's names as much as we could. especially RY-AN, and JAR-RED, and CAT AND KEAGAN.

the summer of power. i was continually surprised at the power of the gospel/Holy Spirit. i know i shouldn't have been, but God was working some crazy things in me that were amazing and encouraging.

the summer of loving others earnestly. i learned SO MUCH about dying to myself and loving others truly and pushing through differences in a healthy way and dealing with conflict and loneliness and isolation and oh my GOSH was it an awesome summer because of that! it didn't matter if it was david or jen or julie or anyone, i just learned how to be a more loving person. and different ways to show that love.

the summer of having astonishing campers. my campers were (for the most part) strong, loving, incredible people that inspired me greatly. i can't stress how many times i underestimated my campers. then i'd have porch talks with them or something and they'd blow me away with their stories of God's work in them.

the summer of music. in haiti and at camp, the worship seemed sweeter and more heartfelt. i was immersed from the beginning of the summer to the end in music.

the summer of praise. praising in my prayers or in my speech or in my life became more of a priority to me this summer. i prayed at church yesterday and jason turned to me and said "that was like, 80% praise." and i just nodded. that's been what i've learning to focus on this year. and it's a cool experience.

the summer hashtagging. as silly as that is, hashtagging RIDICULOUS things with the girls quickly became something that would frequently put a smile on my face.

the summer of snugglebussing. snugglebussing is the best. and i miss it. so much. the end.

the summer of stillness. so much of my summer was full of quiet moments where i got to listen. i listened to the earth singing and God's voice and it was perfect.

basically, this was the best summer of my life to date. and it's not quite over yet. but this year at camp was the sweetest year. not because everything was my "last this" or "last that"...but because i felt so fully present wherever i was and felt so full of Christ. i always come home from camp exhausted (in body and spirit). but this time i came home revived (at least in spirit...) and ready for the fall.

and with that, i conclude my project for this summer. it's been real.

stay sweet.

today was spent thinking about micah cox

micah cox died last year. i didn't know him well. i barely knew him really, but the fact that he walked past me one day and was gone the next is still unsettling.
it's unsettling because i knew the moment he was gone what real fear was like.

i distinctly remember hearing the news. i grew cold and hot and could barely process the words i was hearing. i remember looking at jen sitting on my bed and thanking God that she was there. i remember walking outside in the cold, damp march night. i walked up the hill and sat and looked at the stars while i gasped back tears. i remember thinking of each member of micah's family and trying to think about what they were going through. i remember walking back into my room and hanging some flowers i had picked from my light.

there's still one flower left in my room at home. it's almost dust now, but it's there.

there is a tremendous quote by c.s. lewis. he says "no one ever told me that grief felt so like fear".
it wasn't until my grandfather died (a few short weeks later) that i realized that what was washing over me a year ago.

that crippling fear is also enabling. it enabled me to see the triviality of life and how foolishly i lived and how little i loved. it enabled me to change. and it enabled me to be broken enough for God's love to fill in the cracks.

so i guess i'm just trying to say that, in a sense, no one is really ever fully gone, even when they are dead. their life always matters and molds someone else's.


how incredible is that?

Use your words.

one week of classes has gone by.
this week was beautiful. full of freezing cold and snow and grey and now I look out and there's beautiful rain.
days like today just make me live a little more vividly.

Anyway, that has nothing to do with what I wanted to talk about.
The other day, I tweeted (I have a twitter. not I'm not going to tell you what my name/thing is, and no, I'm not proud of it) a Bible verse. After I had done so, I experienced a nice feeling. It's the same feeling I get every time I share a hymn on Facebook or write about Jesus on here.
It's like a "yes! I'm sharing my faith!" feeling.
The sad truth is, that feeling is so artificial. It's not satisfying. When I use social media to promote my word view, it's doing just that. It's promoting my ideologies and beliefs. It's not really "sharing" my faith.

This thought causes me to be overwhelmed with my own inability to really tell someone about the hope that I have.
I used to think (and say, quite often...which, when you really think about it, is quite ironic): "preach the gospel, and when necessary, use words." I would live by that. So when I shared something or (more recently) tweeted something, it was like an extra credit project. My thought process was seriously and totally "I live out my faith, so writing about it is basically going the extra mile." OH MAN, how deceived I have been.

Since the beginning of Humanity (and most likely before) God has used words. That has been his way of communicating. His actions have been the affirmation and an accessory of His words. While on earth, Jesus was all about personally communicating His truths and mercies and lessons to people. Physically (more or less) speaking to people has always been God's way. So where do I get off?! Thinking that I can just keep quiet and be satisfied with that. SHEESH.

Last night at Cru, the leader read this passage:
   
   And I saw the Holy City, new Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. Ad I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them and they will be His people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away."And He who was seated on the throne said, "Behold I am making all things new." Also He said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true."
                                                                                             -Revelation 21:2-5

That is what our life on this earth amounts to, points to, and rejoices in. The Lord describes the most incredible picture of complete satisfaction and just when you think He's done He adds: "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true."

I guess this whole post boils down to three points:

If you belong to Christ, the trustworthy and true message that you believe in is too gorgeously fulfilling to keep to yourself

Preach the Gospel, and (because it is always necessary) use words. God did, so we should too.

(I feel like this last point could be a whole other post) Your actions are the affirmation of your words. They accessorize your life. They are the physical illustrations that accompany your Spiritual story.


                   

Christmas.

every year, i have a different Christmas. i know that's a result of passing time and changing experiences. but it still takes getting used to.
this year, i didn't have a very long Christmas season. it really only hit me that it was Christmas a couple days ago. my mind has been full of questions and those questions have distracted me. not questions like "why?" and "how?" or "when?"

the questions in my mind have been the kind without the question marks.
like:
Jesus was born a perfect child who carried both death and life with Him his whole time on earth. He swallowed death for us, and the killing of death was the only way humanity could ever hope for life.

the kind of people that surrounded and admired Jesus when He was a child were the same kind of people who actively killed Him later.

we sing all these songs about how the night that Jesus was born was silent and holy and beautiful when the fact is, they were in a crowded little city in the middle of a census. mary was probably bedraggled and joseph's nerves were probably worn thin. Jesus, God of the universe, was not born a spotless babe. He was born gross and weird looking- like any baby. (don't get me wrong, i love babies, but they are are gross and weird looking at the very beginning...) the shepherds weren't sweet men with trimmed beards and the angels weren't these white, blonde-headed, winged, androgynous beings. it is wrong to  sugar coat these things. or it's just human nature to make the best of the situation.

seriously though, what is this Christmas thing all about? (i feel like Charlie Brown)

it is about a baby who was doomed to die by His own loving choice.
it is about a night when the heavens rejoiced and mourned.
it is about the fact that we all die. and through death, we all live.
it is about the end of the world and what happens afterwards.
it is about love. wondrous love.
it is about joy.
it is about peace.
and most of all, it is about hope.

a hope that won't let any of us go.

so we sing songs.
and we put up lights.
and we hang out with our families.
and we give eachother things we need and things we don't need.
and we watch silly movies where everything ends up as it should.
and we get excited about snow and pretty trees.

it's one day where we can stop and be thankful for the little boy that was born with the world on His shoulders. the Prince of Peace. born out of conflict. into a bleeding world.

happy christmas.
i could say "don't forget the reason for the season" or something cliche like that.
but i think i should say "continually remember the reason you're alive."

a little babe swallowed death for you. be thankful, be hopeful, have peace.

fifty

the celestial boy that was told by his father to become human to die and wanted to because he loved us so

or

the true meaning of christmas


the little babe
with the songs of angels
ringing in his little ears
they are whispering
"death will bring forth life
and love and
joy and peace"

the little lamb
saving men
with his blood
and selfless love
you will bless and cleanse
our filthy hearts

we love you Jesus
for being born
for being perfect
and suffering greatly
and carrying darkness
to the grave
carrying darkness
to the grave
the grave

ah baby boy
choosing to die
we celebrate you
with silent night
and candlelight
and white snowmen
and chestnuts roasting

now christmas is here
proclaiming joy
caused by the death
of the baby boy
in the mangers
in our living rooms
and law-firm lobbies
and department stores

we love you Jesus
for being born
for being love
for bringing peace
for killing death
and giving life
giving life
life

post script: just a reminder that i am fully aware of two things: 1) i am shamelessly copying sufjan by using really long and depressing titles 2) i know there's more than three weeks left in the year. i swear i don't know how my counting was so off.

breathless

i woke up this morning on time.
i got to my 8:15 class on time.
i walked in the cold and felt alive.
today was beautiful because of those things.

i am now sitting at my desk in my room.
my ears are still cold from the walk i took in the damp evening.
i have my little desk lamp shining golden on me and knitted socks on my feet.
when i look to my right, there is a wall full of photographs. one of those photographs is of two little girls named Jenny and Nadine.
Jenny and Nadine are from Haiti.
they made me smile so much while i was with them.
they make me smile now.
Nadine with her funny pink bows and Jenny with her hands mid-clap.
tonight is beautiful because of those things.

the past year has left me breathless.
summer 2011 left me breathless. i saw children come to Christ and felt such a real community for the first time in my life.
fall 2011 left me breathless. all the darkness that had accumulated in my heart for the past few years infected my mind until i was under the control of my own sin and self-loathing. i wanted to kill myself, but was saved.
winter 2011 left me breathless. in Hosea it says that the Lord "will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth." that's how He came to me-gentle and real. this bleeding heart began one of the many healing processes it needed (needs, and will need) to go through.
spring 2012 left me breathless. i lost two people. one young and beautiful that i barely knew. one old and wise that i loved dearly and love more everyday. i was sick and tired and through. not with life, but with school and all i wanted was to move on.
summer 2012 left me breathless. i saw the most broken and the most beautiful place that i've ever seen. i met the strongest people. i saw God work huge things in little actions and words and prayers. i was humbled, isolated, and loved.

as this fall is coming to an end, i am beginning to catch my breath. or maybe i'm learning to breath a different way. i was talking to my mom over thanksgiving break about how little community i've found at school. how i felt a lone in my thoughts and beliefs and values and whatnot.
yesterday i began to realize. all this time i've been here, i've been wanting to "plug-in" or "put down roots" or "find fellowship." but that's not what God had for me.
this semester was about me and Jesus.
i get that now.
now don't get me wrong, i am not saying that i am not supposed to be fellowshipping or communing with other believers. what i'm saying is, i have spent the last year scrambling. just when i have thought i could start breathing, God has knocked the breath out of me. He has broken me. smashed me. crushed me. ground me into powder. mixed me with His grace. and now He is tenderly forming me into something new. i can feel it.
so although i've not completely "plugged in" to a group, i'm not worried.

Hosea one says this:
"Therefore, behold, I will allure her,
and will bring her into the wilderness,
and speak tenderly to her."

i had to make it to this special wilderness i'm in.
this new wilderness.
this wilderness where i can barely breathe because of all the past wildernesses. as i walk slowly through this, i hear a voice speaking tenderly to me.
it is Jesus.

in general, right now.

so I haven't blogged in a while. I mean really blogged.
I guess I talked about camp, so that's partially untrue.

the truth is, I haven't written a lot at all lately.
there have been some things weighing heavily on my mind and even more heavily on my heart.
they've stifled my creative thoughts and caused me to just give up before I've even begun to try.
if you've ever been there, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
if you don't.
well, bless your heart.

anyway, God is incredibly loving. we all know this. but honestly, sometimes He gives us beautiful things that we don't ask for.

like fall break, for instance.

I drove home tired, nervous, and a bit depressed.
I've had a tough time with this semester.
God knew this. He knew I needed to spend time with people I love and who love me.
He knew I needed to let some things go.
He knew that in letting those things go, I would feel more relieved and revived than I've been in two months.
He sent photographs of little Haitians and a good friend who's moving in with me next year and a faithful friend who always loves me (even when I'm being dumb) just to show me that He really, truly loves me.

something else hit me this weekend.

what I'm going to do with my life has always been a mystery. there are some concrete options that I guess I can choose from. and there are these dreams that I cling to and want to choose even though they're not concrete.
since last spring, I have seen these two separate worlds being knit together. all of a sudden, my concrete options and "career paths" are flowing into the dreams. the "real" world is becoming a dreamscape.
I think that's a good thing.
I think God wants us to be dreamers.

I guess this is why I never post actual blog-like posts. I'm always so disjointed and unorganized with my thoughts.

but I guess all this to say I hope that God gives you rest and blessings. and I hope that, even if your "real" life careers and so on are already in existence, you never ever stop dreaming.

a dull ache. the explanation.

you may have noticed that a while back i posted just pictures and entitled the posts "a dull ache."

missing camp this year has snuck up on me.
last year, the day i got home from camp, i missed it.
the feeling was vehement and real and then subsided into anticipation for camp the next summer.

this year, the day i got home from camp, i was relieved.
i missed the routine, i guess. but i didn't feel it.

the word miss is derived from an old english word missan. missan is failing to hit. when we fail to hit something, we lack that thing or have avoided the target.

so missing something means you lack something you once had.
you probably know all of this, but it's good to be reminded what words mean.

anyway, i didn't miss camp right away. camp this summer was different for me, as most of you know, so what i was lacking didn't become evident right away.
being here has slowly shown me all that i had this summer.
the situations i've been in, the people i've come in contact with, and the opportunities i've had to share have shown me just how rich this summer really was. and just how much i really love camp.
all this to say, the process of me missing camp is completely reverse of last year. it's started tame, and become more and more violent.
the anticipation hasn't come, because i don't know if i'm working next year (that's a whole different adventure.)

so anyway, how does this apply to you?
well friend, whether you know it or not, your heart is aching. it could be a violent ache. it could be a dull one that you're so used to you don't notice.
whatever it is, it's because something is lacking.
you're missing something.
ultimately, we're missing heaven and perfect unity with our maker.
however, there are things that we miss that can be recovered.
i don't know if this makes any sense to you, but i would encourage you to examine what you're missing. and if it's worth missing. and if it can be found again.

a dull ache part two