Beloved

ta-da!

2011-02-07T20:35:00.000-05:00

well, I did it.

I switched to wordpress.

I wish I felt like a traitor, because blogspot has been good to me, but well, I've been experimenting and using wordpress for a little while now and I like it alot.

Come check out my blog over there and be sure to leave a comment. :)

http://www.dancingrebekah.wordpress.com/

Provider

2011-02-04T20:22:00.001-05:00

I actually wrote this almost a month ago. That fact is actually quite relevant, I promise. You'll find out why in a minute.

Sometimes I think about the fact that in seven months, I will be heading off to the state of Oklahoma with a few thousand dollars and two years of school ahead. I never dreamed of going to Oral Roberts. It’s God. But still, I panic.

Sometimes I think about the fact that instead of working and saving money this summer, I will be interning at a Christian ministry and only receiving a $200 stipend. This is never something I would dream of doing. It’s God. But sometimes I think about it and I panic.

Sometimes I think about the fact that even though I’m working two jobs and applying for scholarships, I still feel like I’m not making enough money for a private education. And then God tells me to give some of my money away. To society, that definitely doesn’t make sense, but it’s God. But that doesn’t mean I’m not panicking.

A few mornings ago, I sipped homemade mocha and read Psalm passages like these:

“I trust in the LORD. I will be glad and rejoice in Your love, for You saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul. You have not handed me over to the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place.” (Psalm 31:6-8)

“The LORD’s unfailing love surrounds the man who trusts in Him.” (Psalm 32:10)

“The LORD delights in the way of the man whose steps He has made firm; though he stumble, he will not fall, for the LORD upholds him with His hand.” (Psalm 37:23-24)

“But I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God; I trust in God’s unfailing love forever and ever.” (Psalm 52:8)

To a lot of people, I know I probably look and sound like some crazy person. Nothing I’m doing makes sense…God doesn’t really make sense. But Jesus doesn’t happen to be my imaginary friend; He happens to be my God and my God has provided, continues to provide, and will provide all my needs.

Ten years old. I was an aspiring artist who faced a small problem: I had used up my entire supply of drawing paper. At the time, my parents didn’t have the funds to get any more. My sisters and I prayed. Someone who lived on the other side of the country sent a random letter. It was random; we hadn’t heard from this lady in ten years. She added in a postscript that she didn’t know why, but she felt compelled to send paper. She thought maybe we’d find some use for it. Not only was her package full of paper, it also contained a ton of colored pencils. I guess my God likes to give above and beyond our requests.

Sixteen years old. I wanted to go to Scotland but I only had $25 and a big dream to my name. I looked for a job but was unsuccessful. My earliest fundraising ideas never produced much. I ran into problem after problem with the organization that was hosting my trip. There was miscommunication, logistical issues…you name it. I prayed. I wasn’t even sure if this is what I was supposed to do with my summer, but I handed the whole mess over to God and let Him deal with it. Did He ever…I ended up raising way more than I needed. People who didn’t even know me gave money. In nine months, I had more than $4,000 dollars and a $200 plane ticket. I guess my God likes to give above and beyond our requests.

Eighteen years old. I needed a car. I prayed. And we won a car in an auction after placing below the minimum bid. And our neighbor offered me a Pontiac Grand Am for a song. There are still some logistics to work though with that particular car, but still…I prayed for a car and ended up with possibly two. I guess my God likes to give above and beyond our requests.

I believe in a big God. And sometimes I think about that and I smile.

Because my God likes to give.

Ok, post update. As of today I have...(are you ready?)

-an invitation to compete in a scholarship competition for FULL-TUITION SCHOLARSHIP. Also, even if I do not win, simply by going out to Tulsa and participating, I get scholarship monies. Win-win.

-three ticket vouchers that reduced my entire round-trip ticket to less than $170

-much-needed monetary gift from a wonderful person

I guess my God provides. Indeed.

Jesus

2011-02-02T14:27:00.001-05:00

Yahoo Answers is a wonderful thing.

Want to know the cheapest flight from here to there? Yahoo Answers knows.

Want to know the easiest way to get peanut butter out of your hair? Yahoo Answers knows.

Want to know when and where trench coats originated? You guessed it!

This is beginning to sound like a paid-ad for Yahoo Answers, so I’ll stop. (If you have further pressing questions, google Yahoo Answers. Google Yahoo. That’s funny. )

Anyways…

I’ve been thinking about doing a blog series on Jesus. I was curious to see what other people had to say about Him, so I searched “Jesus?” on Yahoo Answers so see what kind of questions and answers I’d find. Turns out that Jesus is rather controversial. Who would have thunk it?

So what do you think of Jesus? What’s the first thing that came to your mind when I said “Jesus”? Be honest.

I want to know.

Five Thoughts at 7:39 AM

2011-01-27T07:49:00.001-05:00

1. My school was delayed two hours this morning, and unlike the majority of the population, I don't like it. If I'm going to get up and suffer through the horrifying ordeal of waking up to a dark and cold world, then I'd like to actually do something. Otherwise, I feel as though I've endured the waking-up torture for nothing.

2. So, I'm just sitting here feeling sorry for myself. Feel free to join me. Pity parties are always more fun with two people.

3. I wrote a blog post about how God provides several weeks ago. (I wrote the post several weeks ago, God didn't provide several weeks ago.)

Oh, that sounded wrong. Anyways...

I wrote a blog post about God's provision, but I never posted it. Now I wish I had because God recently provided in a way that honestly astonished me. It shouldn't have; I should have known He'd delight in astonishing me. He's a big and wonderful Lord. However, I was completely blown away and one of these days, I'll post my original blog, along with the exciting update.

4. I'm in my last semester at my community college. This August, I'll be a junior at Oral Roberts University. I'm excited, nervous, thrilled, and sad. This whole moving away from home thing has turned out to be rather bittersweet. But I am genuinely excited to see what God has in store for me in this next season of life.

5. That being said, I'm really enjoying my last semester. My classes all seem harder than in past semesters, but I'm loving the challenge and hard work. My government class in particular is really interesting. I never paid too much attention to national politics before, but this class has sparked an interest.

Good morning, y'all.

And yes, I do feel as though I just went against my Vermont roots by saying 'y'all.'

Song of all Songs

2011-01-14T09:29:00.002-05:00

I am desperate for love.

My soul craves affection like a baby craves nourishment.

I am needy.

I am longing.

I am desperate.

I struggle to survive in a dry world.

But then His rain falls onto my heart;

He breathes into me and I am renewed.

I am whole.

I am satisfied.

I am beloved.

I dance to His heartbeat like a woman in love dances with delight.

Then He comes and dances with me.

He says I am beautiful and I know He is holy.

He says my voice is sweet and I know His love is better than wine.

He says I have stolen His heart and I know that I delight in Him.

He is mine and I am His.

I fall to His feet and weep with adoration, and my perfume spreads it's fragrance. I don't see condemners because I am captured in His gaze.

And now I am quiet in His love.

His song surrounds me.

He fully rejoices.

I am

His.

"Set my heart free, that I may praise Your Name."

-Psalm 142:7

Thoughts on an Eve of a Christmas Eve

2010-12-23T11:35:00.000-05:00

This morning, I cuddled up on an old couch in a back room and scribbled a resolve in my journal.

I choose joy.

Holidays are never the best time of year for me. I love the anticipation, the thrill of waiting, the days leading up to that actual big day…but when the holiday actually comes, I come tumbling down from my pedestal of hopes and dreams into a reality that is far from my mental picture of the perfect Christmas.

There are various reasons why I experience more loss and pain than joy and peace on Christmas, but there’s no need to write them down. I don’t think I’m alone. My guess is that nearly half of the Christmas Eve shoppers would rather skip the following day altogether. Maybe a loved one has died and the empty space at the dining room table speaks louder than the full chairs on either side. Perhaps hopes or expectations raised by Hallmark or culture didn’t quite make the mark. Maybe family tensions cause the day to become one to dread. Regardless of the reason, Christmas is not always the picture-perfect day portrayed in movies, greeting cards, or even in friends’ lives. For some, it can be the hardest time of the year.

But I choose to rejoice.

I choose to rejoice in a God who paid the ultimate price simply because He wanted me forever.

I choose to rejoice in the love of Jesus; a Love that left a throne and chose a cross.

I choose to rejoice in the One who truly is worth celebrating this season.

He is joy and His joy is my strength, both this holiday season and the entire coming year.

I choose joy.

Handcuffed

2010-12-15T13:54:00.001-05:00

I used to read through baby name books. (Maybe it was directly related to being homeschooled and having too much time on my hands. Or maybe it was only related to the homeschooled part; you know, because of the lack of socialization and everything.)

Anyway, regardless of the reason, I was always highly entertained by name meanings. They fascinated me. I would study pages of names like AjdK and Naavah and their related meanings, and combine names to create meaningful phrases. Then I would reach my name. Rebecca is a Hebrew name meaning Bound.

Bound. When I was nine, that conjured up images of course rope knotted tightly around someone’s wrists as they were dragged from the castle by the invading enemy knights. (Apparently, I read too many historical novels.) To me, bound was a negative word. It meant someone was being held or forced against their will.

Charming, isn’t it?

The past few years though, I’ve decided to take that word in an entirely different context. Bound can also mean a willing act on someone’s part; they can be held to a binding agreement. I was bound to the Lord. That was why a line in a Dave Wilkerson newsletter caught my eye.

“Handcuffed to Jesus.”

Immediate mental image: Jesus, striding down the road of life with a business-like attitude, while poor pathetic me bounced and bruised along behind Him, only following Him because an ugly chain connected our wrists and I had. absolutely. no choice. Ouch.

Hopefully that was due to my overactive imagination and not to what I actually feel like in my relationship with Him. But I digress…

Mr. Wilkerson had many fine points to make, but the one that pricked my heart was this:

“It is possible to have the most incredible revelation of the resurrected Christ—to be in love with Him—yet still not be His prisoner, still not be handcuffed to our Master...The true test of love for Christ is…is seeing the emptiness of your own greatest opportunity and dropping every selfish dream to become His prisoner.”

Yes, being God’s prisoner….now there’s a heartwarming topic for the next conference. Heartwarming and Biblical. I look at it this way: we are going to be prisoners of something, whether it is sin, ourselves, the thing we worship, or God. Because slavery is not an option, I’d rather have the Lord as my Master than anyone or anything else in this life. But once again, I digress.

“seeing the emptiness of your own greatest opportunity and dropping every selfish dream…”

I’ve had too many greatest opportunities show up at the doorstep of my heart lately. There have been too many selfish dreams that vied for first place in my affections. And to be perfectly honest, it hurts to be handcuffed right now. I don’t mean hurt as in a tiny little sad place in the midst of my heart; I mean hurt as in big salty tears and snot that I can’t wipe away because I’m crying so hard. My apologies for the gross mental picture I just shared, but maybe someone can relate. Jesus can be a hard Master and sometimes I’d like nothing better than to simply indulge myself in the things I want to do. But He says no.

Just, no. Not now, not tomorrow, and sometimes, not ever. No.

However, because I hate to end this confessional with such a depressing note, let me add that even though He says no, He also says that “I delight in you and even though you stumble sometimes, you will not fall, Rebekah, because I’m upholding you with My hand.”

I’m upheld by Him. How beautiful and crazy is that?!?

Sometimes He speaks the loudest at midnight.

2010-11-08T22:02:00.000-05:00

Do you ever just sit and think about how good He is?

I don’t do it half as often as I should. Staff meetings, psychology papers, violin practice, even family and friends—they all pull me away from just being still before Jesus and letting Him speak to my heart.

And sometimes He doesn’t speak at all. Sometimes, He just sits with me and I feel His goodness and love surrounding me so thickly and tangibly that my own human words would ruin the moment. A couple weeks ago, I got into bed with life just weighing me down. It had been a hard weekend with an unexpected tragedy and I wanted to pour out my heart to God. I sighed and whispered, “Jesus,” but then He stopped me.

It was as if He put His hand over my mouth and wouldn’t allow me to say anything more. At that moment, I knew that He understood all the unspoken needs and cries of my heart. He knew everything I was planning to say. He saw my frustration, my pain, my confusion, and He loved me. In that moment, I felt the intensity of His love and compassion. It was not a warm fuzzy love or a sweet kindness. Instead, it was powerful, piercing, and enveloping.

Sometimes we have to tell Him our hearts. He wants to hear from us. But other times…we just have to be still and sit in His goodness. We have to be little children simply resting in a Father’s love.

I fell asleep that night in His arms.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HiuPcrW01zo&feature=related

Day Three-my first love

2010-10-22T21:39:00.000-04:00

My first love...oh boy. Are you sure you're ready for this?

I was seven or eight when I met HIM. He was cute. He wore really classy striped green shirts. He had a fantastic blue dog. And, best of the best, he never did anything but read books and play guessing games all day.

His name was Steve, he had a dog named Blue, and I adored them both.

Ok, ok, so the option of marrying Steve (and then of course starring in Blue's Clues) were pretty much slim to none and I think I was a smart enough kid to figure that out...hopefully, anyways. To be perfectly honest, I can't really pinpoint my first love. I've had my share of crushes and high-school dreams, but they all either started dating someone else, gotten married, or moved far, far away. Really, it's gotten to the point where if I start liking someone, I can assume they'll quickly move out of my life at an alarming rate of speed.

Right now, I'm one of the only college kids I know that is still single. But I'm actually ok with that. Yes, I have my moments of loneliness, but I know that God has someone out there for me. And while I sometimes wish He'd hurry up and introduce us to each other, I also know that His timing is always perfect.

Day 2 --Meaning Behind the Blog Name

2010-10-21T10:46:00.000-04:00

A couple years ago, God showed me the story in Luke where Mary sits at Jesus' feet and listens to Him. She isn't concerned with anything else at the moment; she is only focused on His face.

I was sixteen at the time and the previous few years had been full of junior high angst and drama. I was tired of trying to live a Christian life and constantly feeling like I had failed. That chilly December, I told God that I wanted to be like Mary; simply sitting at His feet and soaking up His love. I wanted to relentlessly pursue His face.

I've discovered that when you tell the Lord you are going to relentlessly pursue Him and that you want to be closer to Him, He'll take you seriously. He will pursue YOU. The last two years have been purifying, painful, glorious, and incredibly good. There is a song by Misty Edwards that talks about His relentless pursuit of us, and that is where I got the inspiration for my blog name. You see, we may think that we're pursuing Him, but in reality, He is the One who pursued us first.

Day One-recent picture, 15 interesting facts

2010-10-19T22:13:00.000-04:00

I'm participating in the 30 Day blog challenge, because I thought it would be fun.

Now for the fifteen interesting (as well as rather self-centered) things. :)

1. I love coffee in unique mugs.

2. My sisters are the best. There's nothing quite as wonderful as coming home after a long stressful day to laughter, love, and a 92 % chance of a Love Comes Softly movie.

3. I'm not a huge mall person. I much prefer thrift shops and garage sales! Shopping is much more fun and creative that way.

4. I keep discovering new things I love about Jesus and He keeps revealing His love to me in deeper and more unique ways. There's no greater delight than feeling His pleasure and love!

5. I can't stand it when people are emotionally cruel to other people, especially when it's an adult talking to a child. Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words have the power to wound the soul.

6. I love writing and journal almost every day.

7. My passion in life, besides glorifying God, is to show other Christians how MUCH they are loved and valued by Jesus! If we truly grasped that truth, this world would never be the same!

8. Dark chocolate is the best.

9. I drive a station wagon and pretend everyone is jealous of me. Why settle for the norm when you can be different and daring? Vintage is the new cool.

10. The real reason I drive an antique car is because I don't really have the funds to afford a newer one.

11. I don't cry alot.

12. Well, the exception to the no-crying trait would be in worship. Jesus often makes me cry with the knowledge of His love.

13. Fall is my favorite season, Christmas is my favorite holiday, and the anticipation of Christmas is my favorite feeling...so the month of November would qualify as one of my favorite months.

14. I love challenging myself with hard piano music.

15. The theme from the movie Exodus never ceases to amaze me. That is a GOOD piece of music.

steadfast God

2010-10-09T13:51:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I felt loved. Beautiful. Valued. With tears streaming down my face, I listened to Him sing to me. It was an incredible time of Him loving me, and me loving Him. I needed to stay in His favor. I needed to worship Him.

Today I felt condemned. Hurtful. Vindictive. And instead of allowing Him to forgive me, I clung to my sad state with a strange sort of desperation. It was more comfortable to be uncomfortable. I needed to stay guilty. I needed to punish myself.

Only twenty-four hours between those two emotions. Justification vs. condemnation. Beautiful vs. broken.

“Joy is gone from our hearts; our dancing has turned to mourning. The crown has fallen from our head. Woe to us, for we have sinned!”

-Lamentations 5: 15-16

But He loves me. In the worshipful days, He allows me to feel His pleasure. In the broken days, He gives me another chance. He is steadfast.

steadfast. Can you feel the exultant joy in that word?

"Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.”

-Lamentations 3: 21-23

No Condemnation

2010-09-17T18:37:00.000-04:00

Picture this scene: a young woman trembles from anger and fear. With her arms wrapped around her body and silent, poignant tears streaking down her face, she tries to block out the angry accusations of those who surround her. How dare those hypocrites accuse her of adultery when she knows they, too, have sinned. Deep down, though she knows she deserves every indictment. And now she cringes before God.

Shame.

Shame is the defining element surrounding her quivering form. It hovers over her, like a furious black cloud intent on slowly suffocating her soul.

Can you relate? I can.

But then the story becomes beautiful. Listen.

“Jesus bent down and wrote with His finger in the ground. And as they continued to ask Him, He stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once more He bent down and wrote on the ground. But when they heard it, they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before Him. Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.”

Now listen to Jesus’ words as they cut through the cloud of shame like a two-edged sword.

“Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on, sin no more.”

I don’t know what happened after that, but I imagine she slowly turned and walked home, in a dazed mixture of puzzlement and elation.

She was not condemned.

And neither are you.

Romans 8:1-2:
Therefore, there is now NO CONDEMNATION for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.

The dictionary defines condemnation as either the state of being condemned, or strong censure; disapprobation; reproof.

To me, the word reminds me of inmates in the death-row, a building wrapped in yellow tape and boarded shut, a child constantly trying to measure up and never quite making it. It’s a chilling word. A depressing word. A word that causes flowing tears, broken hearts, and tragic death.

I was talking to my sweet friend, Emily, the other day and she mentioned John11:43:
“Take off the grave clothes and let him go.”

I haven’t been able to get that line out of my head since. I can almost see Jesus’ smiling face, with tearstains still on His cheeks, as He subtly asks, “What does a living man need with grave-clothes?”

Centuries later, His voice still speaks through the shame, the condemnation, the self-hatred, the inferiority. Take off the grave clothes, beloved, because “for all you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.”

We are not condemned.

forever

2010-09-03T20:09:00.000-04:00

I wonder what happens the moment we see Jesus. I know I am going to see his nail-scarred hands and just be a huge mess on the floor. I know that.

But I wonder if He will pull me up into His arms and look into my eyes.

I wonder if He’ll whisper with a smile in His voice, “Will you dance with Me?”

I won’t be able to answer, but He’ll know my heart.

And pressed close together, we’ll dance to the rhythm of His heartbeat and the melody of heaven.

At that moment, nothing will matter except the Lover of my soul.

When our dance is over, there’ll be no need for sadness or disappointment that something so wonderful is over so soon, because we only have the rest of forever.

Forever.

What a beautiful future.

offense

2010-08-31T16:02:00.001-04:00

The past week, while homeworking at college, I have been listening to John Bevere on youtube.

Let me just say...totally a God thing. Why? Because the only teaching I could find was the series on the Bait of Satan--the "Bait" being that little thing Christians love to throw around: offense.

Background: lately, Jesus has been giving me a picture of Him washing Judas' feet. Then He started showing me eagles and telling me, in not so many words, to start soaring. Eagles rise above the storm. Above it. They don't fly right into it, hoping to come out ok on the other side.

So now I was listening to John Bevere talk about offenses, and how offenses lead to unforgiveness, which leads to bitterness, which in turn will eventually lead to hatred. I was actually looking forward to my times of listening everyday, because I was subconsciously being rather self-righteous. Without really realizing what I was doing, I was applying this teaching to certain people or experiences, and nursing my old wounds, feeling really good about having forgiven all their shortcomings. It made me feel like a self-sacrificing martyr, in a really pathetic sort of way.

Then the Lord stopped my little righteous act and showed me exactly what I was doing. He listed, in careful detail, all the little offenses and bitterness I had built up over the years, and pushed the list in my face. And then He reminded me that while I am enjoying my comfortable little pity-party, He is washing the feet of the friend who betrayed Him. Ouch.

I want to fly like an eagle. I want to start soaring above the storm, instead of aimlessly wandering around in it!

Steppin' out

2010-08-26T13:39:00.004-04:00

Classes have started up again in full swing...and my days are full of papers, friends, coffee, and Facebook--oh, did I really say that? I meant homework. Facebook would never come before homework. Ever.

It's so strange that I'm a college sophomore. I'm living the days that I always dreamed about, the days that I always assumed were in the future. Except now they are very much in the present and I'm loving every minute of it.
Of course, being in a community college means that after my sophomore year, I have to transfer to a four-year school. Of course, this has caused some minor stress and decision making. And of course, I've left it all in God's hands and haven't worried about it.

That last sentence is, uh, a slight lie, by the way. I'm the proud possessor of a type A personality, which basically means I keep schedules, insist on my absolute best, and would love to have a blueprint for my life.

Rebekah's Life Blueprint--in Full Color. Written by God.

Now there's a book that would look really good on my coffee table.

However, although I've placed many a request for such a book, God hasn't seen fit to give it to me, so I'm forced to rely on Him literally step by step. (I'm wishing I hadn't sung that old Rich Mullins' song so enthusiastically in my younger years.)
The other day I was lying on the couch, giving the Lord my list of worries and decisions, and He interrupted me and said, "Step out."

That's all. I was sort of hoping He'd elaborate, tell me in detail where to go or what to do, but He only said to step out. He can't guide my steps if I continue refusing to actually take a step.

So with that in mind, I'm applying for George Fox University in Oregon, which means that this time next year, I'll be moving across the country. I know this is where God wants me. I don't know His timing, but I'm trusting He'll guide my steps.

Now it's back to homework.

Foot-washing, anyone?

2010-08-19T19:59:00.002-04:00

Sometimes preachers will say he or she is preaching to themselves; the point being, of course, that they need that little bit of wise advice just as much, or possibly more, than their congregants.

I can identify with that preacher, because I blog to myself…instead of being a self-preacher, I’m a self-blogger. (oh, sounds catchy!)
I have a feeling that this post is going to be one of those self-directed missives—which is just as well, seeing the relatively few comments I receive. (That was a not-so-indirect hint, y'all.)

I am a confident person and I have a very independent streak—both evidencing in my plans to move across the country for school. At the risk of sounding slightly conceited, let me honestly say that I like those qualities about myself.

However, humans tend to corrupt the beautiful. Over the years, my natural independence has started to change into an attitude that says I don’t need anyone. I can do it myself. When I was younger, my mom would get exasperated with me sometimes because I hardly ever accepted help. It was simply easier to do it on my own, in my own way, during my own time schedule.
Deep down, I know this is a lie. Like everyone else, I have a great need to be loved, affirmed, and wanted. But when people reject me, I have a tendency to roll my eyes and think, whatever. I didn’t need them anyways. I KNOW this a method of self-preservation; a way of shielding myself from pain.

Lately, I’ve sensed the Lord showing me this tendency and telling me, in not so many words, to get over my victim mindset.
That it’s time to grow up.
That it’s time to stop feeling sorry for myself.
That it’s time to make myself vulnerable, to allow myself to love fully and freely, to be willing to feel the sting of love.
That it’s time to care more about Jesus and others than about my hurt feelings.

I keep seeing Jesus kneeling in the dust, washing the crummy feet of His turncoat friend—His BETRAYER. I think the entire room must have been silent with a mixture of awe and revulsion, as these men watched their Lord—the One Whom they thought would save their country—do the work of a servant. I think Jesus’ own heart must have been breaking with painful love, as He washed the feet that would later lead His enemies to Him.

In order to wash feet, I have to be able to kneel in the dust before another human being.

bullet for Jesus

2010-07-17T10:54:00.000-04:00

When I was a kid, I used to imagine myself standing before a gun barrel and announcing to the world that yes, I was a Christian.

Needless to say, I prefer not to imagine such heroism anymore. I don’t want to die anytime soon, and when I do, I’d rather not go the gun method.

Would I be willing to take a bullet for Jesus? Well, I hope so, of course. But while I’m willing to, I definitely don’t want to enter heaven as a martyr. I’ve heard well-meaning Christians ask that question, to me and others, and it has always bothered me. The other day, I finally realized why.

For a Christian, every day should become martyrdom. Every day we need to pick up our crosses and follow Him. Every day, we kill our own desires, wants, and needs, and replace them with His.
The question is not, “would I take a bullet for Jesus?” but instead, “in this moment, am I going to do my own thing, or obey the Lord?”

For some individuals, that moment may include a bullet. But for most of us, the moment will simply be another decision to follow the Lord; a decision that will be followed with another moment of decision, and then another…until a new day begins the cycle all over again.

There is no point in looking toward a futuristic possibility that may never occur, when Jesus has not called us to die in the future ; He’s called us to die right now. I’m not concerned whether or not I’d be able to take a bullet for Jesus. I’m concerned with becoming more like Jesus, right now in this moment.

rainstorm

2010-07-13T12:21:00.000-04:00

“God’s wrath is not so separate from His love as the world would like you to believe.” -Sadie Boettner

A dear friend wrote that line in a Facebook note she had written about God’s wrath. I was thinking about it the other night, as I lay awake during an intense summer storm. Hint: thunderstorms make it fairly easy to consider God’s wrath.

I really believe that God is going to unleash His wrath on the United States. I could be wrong, but looking around at the spiritual state that this country is in, I don’t see how He could not judge us. However, I firmly believe that those who stay close to Jesus, He will protect. There is a place we can go that NOTHING can touch or harm us. The children that stay under their Daddy’s wings will find refuge and peace, even in the midst of a wrathful storm. We need to learn to rest in Him.

“He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you can hide. His truth will be your shield and protection.” – Psalm 91:4

I think we were literally in the “eye” of the storm the other night, because I could hear thunder around the house, rather than coming from a specific direction. Storms don’t usually bother me that much, but this was scary. Finally, a few minutes before I dropped off to sleep, I sensed Him telling me to rest. I had been repeatedly praying for protection, but there came a point when I had to simply trust. Interesting point: the storm actually got worse after that. And resting in Him doesn’t necessarily mean our circumstances will get better. But they won’t be able to spiritually or emotionally harm us.

His rain is also coming.
“At that time I will speak to you,” says the LORD. “I will speak to the skies, and they will give rain to the earth.” –Hosea 2:21

I tend to think of rain as a pleasant thing—a soft spring mist, or a cooling summer downpour. But rain can be furious. It can be intense. Cleansing. Restoring. And REVEALING. Rain washes away everything temporary and reveals the true product.

“Deep calls to deep in the roar of Your waterfalls. All Your waves and breakers have crashed over me.”
–Psalm 42:7

I prefer the NIV translation (completely irrelevant point), but right now I’m using the New Century Version, and it puts the verse this way: “Troubles have come again and again, sounding like waterfalls. Your waves are crashing all around me.”

A couple weeks ago, a friend and I hiked to some waterfalls. Most of the time, I picture waterfalls as gently falling over rocks, sparkling in the sunlight…maybe even with a rainbow thrown in the mix for good measure. But these falls were deep, loud, and furious. Anyone dumb enough to go near them would certainly be swept under, unless they were anchored to a rock.

God frightens me. I love Him. But His righteous wrath, His revealing rain, and His troubling waterfalls scare me. This is why I need to be able to trust in His goodness and rest in His love.

“The poor and needy people look for water, but they can’t find any, their tongues are dry with thirst. But I, the LORD, will answer their prayers: I, the God of Israel will not leave them to die. I will make rivers flow on the dry hills and springs flow through the valleys.” –Isaiah 41:17-18

depths

2010-07-08T12:54:00.008-04:00

people are not going to always understand christianity, or at least not my particular brand of christianity that calls for me to give my all with no reservation or inhibitations.

to be misunderst-ood should be the norm. to be accused of being too spiritual, thought to be weird, or stuffed into the category of God-obsessed addicts shouldn't surprise me.

deep calls to deep in the roar of Your waterfalls. all Your waves and breakers wash over me. -psalm 42:7

every kid learning to swim has a moment in time when they go under and feel like they will never come up. every toddler afraid of a bath still undergoes that moment when his hair and face is suddenly drenched with water. it's frightening. but the rewards are worth it.

He is too irresistable for me to resist His invitation to go deeper.

Rollphobia

2010-07-06T12:47:00.000-04:00

I suffer from rollphobia.

Roll:–v. to move along a surface by revolving or turning over and over, as a ball or a wheel. Also known as a somersault.

When I was around seven or eight, I had perfected the art of somersaulting. I could do them backwards, forwards, sideways…you get the idea. One beautiful morning, this child had a brilliant idea.

Now before we go any further, folks, let me set the stage for this story. Our family room was about the length of two rooms. At one end was a giant picture window, and a wooden antique bureau stood at the other end. This was not just any antique bureau—it was a heavy wooden construction that was so petrified, the wood was nearly stone quality.

Ok, it wasn’t that bad, but please realize that this was a HARD structure.

On this particular morning, I decided to see if I could do a succession of rolls from the window to the bureau without pausing. Yes, I now see the slight danger in that idea, but I was seven and anything was possible. I began somersaulting and happily capitulated across the room—right into the antique bureau. It’s the only time in my life that I can remember actually seeing stars. I think I also temporarily blacked out—so I had the whole experience of stargazing at night.

That experience traumatized me and I have never intentionally rolled since. And when it happens accidently, well, I need some serious counseling for a few minutes.
I realize just how ridiculous it is that one incident that happened to a little seven year old kid can instill such terror in an adult…particularly because somersaulting isn’t exactly equivalent to death or public speaking. But as I was remembering and smiling last night, I began thinking about how I put the same fear-factor on other, equally-ridiculous things, like trusting God.

I’m ok with my somersaulting phobia. It doesn’t really affect my life, and probably never will, so it doesn’t bother me. But my lack of trust in God should bother me, because that truly does affect my life.

He created lightening. He’s frightening, glorious, beautiful, and all-powerful. He knows all, sees all, and ultimately controls all—and yet sometimes I find it difficult to trust my life into His hands.

Ridiculous, right?

Loves like a Hurricane; I am a Tree

2010-06-30T11:47:00.006-04:00

I was thinking about the last line from my previous post.

His heart does break for us, yes. It breaks when we’re stuck in the rut of sin, when we refuse to run to Him, when we choose our own way over His. But it’s not always breaking. When we are right with God, He rejoices over us. He sincerely loves us with a genuine joy.

I always need God, but I honestly don't always want Him. The last few months though, I've felt a desperate longing for His presence, intensifying to the point where I really didn't want to do anything but spend time with Him. I began sensing that He wanted a special time with me; a time where I focused solely on Him. I, of course, being the ridiculous human that I am, resisted Him. It wasn't that I didn't want to know Him better, but I had places to go and things to do. I mean, God is patient, right?

Or...not so much. You can only ignore His prompting for so long. A few days ago, as I was flying home from visiting a friend, I leaned my head against the window and finally said, "Ok Lord, You can completely have my summer. I guess." (Nothing like a little enthusiasm, right?!)
I felt a little spiritual and almost like, woah God, check out my passion. I'm sacrificing my summer for You.

Yesterday, as I was sitting in biology class, thinking about everything in the world besides biology, I began realizing what giving Him my summer really meant. I have school in the mornings, and I also work a few days a week. This basically left my afternoons as the only time I could spend with the Lord. Suddenly this spiritually passionate child started throwing herself a little pity-party. "God, I need other people in my life, too! You didn't really mean that I had to spent so much time with You...I could maybe fit You in during lunch hour or something?"
His answer was so clear and firm that it startled me. "You don't need anyone but Me."

The message was pretty clear: this summer, I need to truly make Jesus my All in All. I need to stop relying on my other relationships for my happiness, worth, value, whatever. I don't mean that we don't need other relationships in our lives--of course we do! We'd be pretty unhealthy if we didn't. And I don't mean that I won't hang out with other people this summer; I just knew that Jesus wanted me to spend an extra amount of time with Him. And with that clarity, I also suddenly knew I had to give up Facebook.

Don't laugh. I'm a social-networking addict to the core. If I manage to go a day without getting online, I'm either feeling ridiculously good about my self-control, or I feel like I'll die if I don't get connected again. But at this point, I had already given up my summer afternoons, already handed Him my friendships and social life, already determined to focus on the Lord...and Facebook was the only thing still holding me back. After I signed off yesterday, I literally cried for about two minutes. (I don't know why I'm making all this information public.)
I wasn't crying because of my sudden loss of internet; it had just been the last thing that I was still clinging to and handing it over to Jesus was p-a-i-n-f-u-l.

I really don't know how long this is going to last. When I said summer, I meant the month of July, because the college fall semester starts in August. However, I've noticed that Jesus just loves taking our ideas and plans and ditching them for His. So who knows where this little Jesus-in-the-afternoon experiment will end up. But for now, I'm planning on at least the next three weeks. This morning after class, I did homework for a couple hours and I realized that I was practically jumping with excitement. I was excited before, but ever since giving Him everything, I've been full of anticipation. I know He is going to meet me this summer and do immeasurably more than I could have ever asked or dreamed.

I can sense His excitement, too. It's a wonderful feeling to know that the Lord of all the earth is excited to meet with you. There’s nothing on earth quite so thrilling or satisfying as being loved by Jesus.

break my heart for what breaks Your's...

2010-06-17T18:11:00.001-04:00

The other night, I was thinking about a story I had heard from someone who was a child in the holocaust. Somehow, that train of thought led to the stories from some of the people who are in Thailand right now with Freedom 4/24 (check out their blogs on my sidebar, by the way. Incredible. I won’t pretend I’m not jealous.)

Anyway, as my thoughts were taking more and more depressing turns, I began to feel like my heart might break. I started to get a little teary-eyed, but it really was a pain too deep to mourn. It wasn’t a pain for me, but for the world. I felt its heartrending cry for relief, for justice, for freedom. I started questioning God, “Why?! I know You exist. I know You’re coming again. I want to love You—I don’t have a choice but to love You. You’re irresistible and I can’t stand it sometimes!”

It’d be so much easier to just live in this world and accept its crap, than to fully realize that God does exist and loves us with a passionate love—yet, we’re still in pain.

Then I heard His whisper, “It breaks My heart, too.”

That’s all He said, but I suddenly realized my heart was crying for the same things that His does. I was experiencing a tiny glimpse of the immense sorry He feels. In my mind, I saw a picture of an earth filled with screaming, sobbing people running from Him, yet seemingly oblivious to the fact that their own sins were causing their pain. Oblivious to the fact that they were running from the only One who could set them free.

I then saw Jesus hovering over the earth, with tears pouring down His face as He silently cried out with an agony too deep for audible words. But people only spit into His wet face.

Can anything separate us from the love Christ has for us? Can troubles or
problems or sufferings or hunger or nakedness or danger or violent death? But in
all these things we are completely victorious through God who showed His love
for us. Yes, I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor ruling
spirits, nothing now, nothing in the future, no powers, nothing above us,
nothing below us, nor anything in the whole world will ever be able to separate
us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
-Romans 8: 35-36,38-39

His heart breaks for you, beloved.

come away

2010-06-16T12:31:00.005-04:00

Sometimes as I'm going about my everyday life, I hear Him whispering, "Come away, My beloved."

I really do hear Him say those exact words.

You'd think with such an incredible invitation, I'd either drop everything I was doing and immediately go away with Him, or greatly anticipate my next free moment that I'd have to spend with Him. But I don't. Most of the time, I'm too interested or busy. Sometimes I do go to meet with Him, but I get distracted by whatever.

Yesterday I heard Him whisper those words and I happened to not have any particular plans for the afternoon--an extreme rarity for me! But honestly, I just didn't feel like worshipping Him. I didn't feel like listening to His voice. This was the first free day I'd had in a long time, and I wanted to snuggle up with a novel, talk to friends, play piano. So I'm ashamed to say that for a few hours, I ignored Him. I did what I wanted to do. I missed an opportunity to meet with the Lover of my soul. Later that night, I did spend some time with Him, but He had waited all day for me and I had ignored His invitation.

I'm often tempted to give myself a guilt trip, but then His forgiveness overwhelms me. He is so much more patient than I am. I'm constantly humbled by His love and grace in my undeserving life.

Extravagance

2010-06-07T12:59:00.001-04:00

Stop stereotyping me. You say I'm a good girl. You say I'm nice. Good people follow the rules. Good people are always nice. Good people make religion a central part of their lives. Good people have never experienced the breathtaking wonder of being loved by the Lover of their souls. They've never embraced a wounded King and felt His passionate love completely consume them, it's fire transforming their lives into pure gold.

I want to break rules and follow the Law that He's written on my heart. I don't want to be nice; I want to frighten hell. I want to break chains and set the prostitutes free. I want to be so resolved that I will follow Him into the darkest of alleys and the blackest of nights.

I don't want religion to be a part of my life. I don't even want Jesus to be a part of my life. I WANT HIM TO BE MY LIFE. I WANT HIM TO BE THE REASON I BREATHE.

I want to crash a dinner party and sob all over Jesus' feet, wasting expensive perfume. And while I'm doing it, don't judge me, because you don't know the price of the oil in my alabastar jar.

Just sayin'

2010-05-15T10:11:00.002-04:00

I'm trying to stop saying "Just" all the time when I pray. Example: Lord, JUST do this, and if You'd JUST stop this, and I JUST want You, ect.

I've basically realized that I don't want Him to just do anything. I want it all. He's God and He can do way more than just barely give us what we just need or want.

And those are just my thoughts.

Hold me steady as a post

2010-05-11T16:44:00.003-04:00

Psalm 63—“God, You’re my God! I can’t get enough of You! I’ve worked up such hunger and thirst for God, traveling across dry and weary deserts.”

I feel like I’m in a desert right now. The past week or so has just been one of those weeks where everything goes wrong. I’ve complained, cried, and thrown myself a few giant pity-parties. My parties, of course, solved nothing and only made me more miserable.

When David wrote these words, he was in the Judean wilderness, being hunted down by people who hated his guts and wanted to kill him. He had more right than I do to complain and party in his self-pity, but instead he cried out to God. He yearned for the Lover of his soul with an intense longing that burned deeper than his circumstances. He could have begun his prayer asking the Lord for anything—water, food, vengeance for his enemies—but instead, he said, “I can’t get enough of God.” He wanted the Divine Presence more than anything in the world!

“So here I am in the place of worship, eyes open, drinking in Your strength and glory. In Your generous love I am really living at last! I bless You every time I take a breath; my arms wave like banners of praise to You.”

David is really living at last? Out in the abandoned and lonely desert, fleeing for his life, the outcast young man feels as though he is truly living for the first time?

“I eat my fill of prime rib and gravy; I smack my lips. It’s time to shout praises! If I’m sleepless at midnight, I spend hours in grateful reflection. Because You’ve always stood up for me, I’m free to run and play.”

David’s circumstances mattered to him. In other psalms, he begs the Lord to save him and to destroy his enemies. But in this particular psalm, he is so full of love and praise that his circumstances slowly fade in the awesome and wonderful presence of God.

That shames me. Sure, I’m stressed and overwhelmed, but David was fleeing for his life. Yes, my car decided to die and I don’t know where I’m going to come up with the money for another one, but David was in the desert with no water. Yes, I had to get braces and live with a painful mouth, but David barely had enough clothes for his back. He lived with fear and rejection, but he stayed strong and steadfast in his faith.

“I hold on to You for dear life, and You hold me steady as a post.”

Hold me steady, God. I’m holding onto You.

The untitled post

2010-05-03T12:59:00.002-04:00

I keep changing my blog look because I want something that is "me."
But I know that soon after changing it, I'll decide the new look really isn't me, either.

I'm hoping that my blog's personality disorder isn't reflecting on its owner.

PS. I'm writing this between studying for finals...which basically means I came to the library hoping to get some quiet, since my home is really anything but quiet. However, all the wonderful people from the US Census Bureau picked today for their big meeting, which incidently, they're holding at the library. Woopdidoo.

Little Boys in the Country...

2010-05-03T11:33:00.000-04:00

Ethan: "I wouldn’t walk right there; Joshua peed there."

Joshua (indignantly): "No, I didn’t!"

A few seconds later…

“Oh YEAH, I peed there.”

college lifeeee.

2010-04-20T10:40:00.004-04:00

I get a ridiculous sense of joy after math class finishes...

I woke up this morning after another late night...and then I couldn't sleep...and right now I'm exhausted. Physically, emotionally, maybe spiritually. I keep reminding myself I only have two weeks left of school, and then I laugh a little because usually I love the stressful thrill of college life. I'd probably function better if I slept better.

Yes, I realize that's pretty profound. haha

The other night, I was lying in bed, exasperated. Then I began to wonder if Jesus was keeping me awake for a certain reason, so I asked Him and He showed me someone to pray for...so I fell asleep praying. I don't know if what I said made much sense in my sleepy state, but heck, it never hurts to pray. So last night when I couldn't sleep, I began to pray for this same individual again, and immediately fell asleep.

Sort of annoying, but at the same time, I'm realizing what a kind, loving God I truly serve. What sort of God cares enough about a random person that He'd wake up another random person just to intercede on their behalf? I'm so tempted to be annoyed because I really do like my sleep, but it's impossible to be anything but thrilled with the love of God.

I'm not always thrilled with Him, though. He's been showing me really pleasing principles like confession. Nothing is harder than making myself vunerable and broken before someone else...ha, this week we've been having a full, blown-out argument about the need to confess to others. Actually, I was hoping for an argument, but He just keeps repeating His original command everywhere I turn. It's impossible to escape His voice, and this morning I finally admitted that He had won...I'm still scared, though. Scared I'll lose people's trust, some friendships...I know my pride is going to be lost. But I have to surrender to His will because ultimately, my relationship with Him is way more important than anything else.

That sentence is so easy to write and so much harder to do, though.

well, I'm heading home to play my heart out on the piano and go for a run. I've started running again, and I'm starting to enjoy it. :)

Passionate Embrace

2010-04-14T12:52:00.001-04:00

Those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength
They shall mount up with wings as eagles

They shall run and not be weary
They shall walk and never faint
They shall dance with their Lover
They shall laugh in His arms
They shall rest in His glory
They shall glory in His presence

Take us deeper, Lord; take us higher
Take us closer, take us nearer
Oh Jesus help us love You more

L-O-V-E

2010-03-20T08:59:00.000-04:00

Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous, it does not brag, and it is not proud. Love is not rude, is not selfish, and does not get upset with others. Love does not count up wrongs that have been done. Love takes no pleasure in evil but rejoices over the truth. Love patiently accepts all things. It always trusts, always hopes, and always endures. Love never ends.
1 Corinthians 13: 4-8

Sometimes, at the end of a church service, it’s ridiculously easy to raise my hand and say yes. Sometimes, when everyone is wrapped up in the emotional appeal of the moment, it is easy to whisper dangerous words—words that are deceptively easy and innocent. Teach me to love…

Maybe it’s because we picture the finished product; we see the wonderful and caring individual we would be—loving everyone almost effortlessly and living our lives out with a servant’s heart that beautifully shines through our humble attitude. We don’t picture the process that it will take to get us there. We don’t realize that changing a self-centered person into a selfless one is a painful journey that is guaranteed to throw us to the ground. Getting down and getting dirty is not a pleasant Christian saying—it’s a very real procedure that hardly feels pleasant.

But we need it. I need it. People need to see and feel that love in us.

On March 8, 2010, I...

2010-03-09T10:10:00.004-05:00

Stopped the fire that the twelve year old had accidently started on the stove. Hint: make sure all plastic is far away from burner before attempting to fry bacon.

Discovered my diabetic sister's blood sugar was dangerously low, and fixed it.

Stopped homework for a random photo shoot with two other sisters.

Scraped through a violin lesson.

Managed to finish my paper a couple hours before it was due.

Recieved a hug from the three year old.

I love my ginormous family.

friday night randomness

2010-02-19T23:07:00.003-05:00

I've had writer's block the last few weeks…not with school assignments, but as far as writing on this blog goes. Mostly because I don't know where to start when it comes to talking about my life, or what God is doing or showing me.

I just re-discovered the music of Misty Edward's, and am literally obsessed with it. It echoes the cry of my heart more than I can say. I first heard her music at the Nashville call back in 2007…but it's amazing what kind of a difference three years can make in how you appreciate the message behind the music.

I became a pro-lifer this week. Not that I wasn't already pro-life, but for the first time, I joined about two thousand other people in the area in the forty days of life campaign—praying in front of Planned Parenthood. Definitely not anywhere I would have ever dreamed I'd be, or even wanted to be, but there I was…and I loved it, which surprised me.

Following Jesus has become an intensely glorious, yet painful, struggle lately. It hurts to love Him, and it hurts to leave Him.

"But he knows the way that I take;
when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold."
-Job 23:10

Love you all. a whole ginormouslybig ton. :)

isaiah 58

2010-01-31T18:50:00.003-05:00

Is this not the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke…
Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry for help, and He will say: Here am I.

...The LORD will guide you always; He will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.
-Isaiah 58

It’s the incredible love of God shining into the darkest corners of the earth. It’s the giant dust-rag of Jesus wiping away the grime that covers up the people He created. It’s the ancient words of the Bible once again proving they still have power today. It’s the healing love of Jesus working through His people to repair the crumbled walls of hope and peace. It’s the lovers of God, equipped with the Holy Spirit, boldly restoring the ruins.

That verse says repairer of streets with dwellings. Reminds me of the brothels and the girls that make their lives on the street. God is bringing people who will be the repairers of that mess. –Sadie

Relentless

2010-01-20T11:20:00.004-05:00

I’ve discovered that when we say that we want a relationship with the Lover of our Soul, He gladly agrees. The relationship is on His terms though, which translated, basically means it is not always a journey of happiness and blissful friendship. He requires all of us. The giving of ourselves is incredibly hard, even sometimes downright painful. We try to maintain our grasp on everything that is important to us, even while He is gently tugging on it. And when we finally do let go and allow Him to take it all, we are not immediately rewarded for our good behavior. Pulling out our treasures is an agonizingly painful process, especially when the roots go deep. We suddenly understand the old allegories of the potter and the clay because now we can identify with that lump of clay that is being molded, crafted, and finally going through the purification fires. We watch in horror as He carries away our possessions. “Those are mine!” We cry with our voices choked in anguished tears. “Those are my friends, my family, my hopes, my dreams!”

He only smiles. “They used to be,” He agrees, “But you gave them to Me, remember?”

We remember, maybe a little regretfully. There isn’t any turning back now, so we sigh and slowly, reluctantly relinquish everything we held dear. He’ll put His dreams in our place , we think, as a way to comfort our poor little emotions. It’s like a substitution; His dreams for mine. And His are supposed to be way better, right?

But then He comes back for more.
“More of what ?” We ask in bewildered horror. “You took it all, remember?”
“I took your most of your idols.” He agrees, “But you’re still worshipping yourself. I want to be worshipped. You’re still worshiping your baggage. You don’t need that baggage. You’re worshipping your need for relationships. I’m the only One you need. You’re worshipping your shell, but I love that person hiding somewhere deep down in that shell.”

Suddenly the idea of a relationship with Jesus is not so appealing. We had a vague idea of adding Jesus onto our lives—sort of like a strong perfume or cologne on the top of all our odors. We didn’t realize that Jesus didn’t want to cover up our stench; He wanted to remove it. We can’t turn back; we have no choice but to allow Him to reveal our utter despicableness. Seeing ourselves is painful. We try to hide our face, but He gently turns it back to face the mess. While we are still gazing with troubled eyes at our wretchedness, we suddenly realize He has been quietly taking our luggage. “Jesus, noooo! I need that!” Even while we complain, we know trying to hold onto it would be hopeless. Still, as we watch Him carry it away, we realize how attached we were to that baggage. And as we watch Him stride back, we hope against hope that He’s done; that He’s finally taken it all. What is left?

“I want your need for relationships, your longing to be loved, and your dependence on other people to make you happy or feel accepted.”

We stare at Him in stunned panic. He is not just asking for certain friendships this time; now He is asking us to truly realize He is all we need. We tremble in fear, with nightmares of loneliness and abandonment tumbling through our minds. We can’t even voice those long-hidden fears but as we stare into His eyes, we realize that He already knows them all. He is aware of our human need to be connected with others, to be loved. And yet, even though His eyes are full of love, they are resolute. He is still going to take it away.

We are tempted to sink into despair, but even in the darkest night, we can still sense the Holy Spirit whispering our name to us. We can still feel the Hand that has our name engraved on it. And in the midst of terrible loneliness, we begin to understand the sustaining love of God. He is all we need, our Provider, our Strength, our Rock, our Fortress, our Deliverer, and our best Friend. We understand the emotion behind Habakkuk’s voice when he said, “I will still be glad in the LORD, I will rejoice in God my Savior. He makes me like a deer that does not stumble, so I can walk on the steep mountains.”

As we begin to trust in the incredible character of the Lord, He surprises us with the announcement that He still wants one more thing. We pause in our worship of Him to wonder what it could be, and then He shocks us.

“I want your shell. I want everything that makes you comfortable, that makes you feel secure, and that hides who you really are. I want you to become all I’ve created you to be and do all that I’ve created you to do. You’ve started to catch a glimpse of the amazing plans I have for your future, but you will never be able to walk out your calling if you are still relying on your own strength.”

There is one moment of deep struggle.
Then we nod our heads. “Ok,” we agree, “You can have it all.”
We close our eyes in surrender, not wanting to witness Him carrying it away, yet still allowing Him to have it all. But then we feel a jolt of pain. And then another one. Our eyes fly open and we see Him striking at our shell with a sledgehammer, tearing it off bit by bit. “What are you doing?” we cry, “That hurts! You’re breaking me!”

He looks at us with that intense love in His eyes. “I know,” He says simply.

“But why?”

He doesn’t answer our question, but He cries with us and somehow, despite the pain, we are a little comforted.

But the comfort leaves when our shell does. It shatters in a million pieces and we reach out for something to cover up our exposure, but there’s nothing. He’s taken it all away. We feel vulnerable, helpless, even abandoned. Our worst fears seem to have come true and we feel as if we are lying on the floor along with our old shell—shattered into tiny jagged pieces that will never be able to be put back together. He’s betrayed me, we think. Betrayed.

We are completely broken.

But then the Healer lifts our face toward His. We can barely see Him through our tear filled eyes. They fill with fresh tears as He reached out and touches our hot cheek. “By my stripes you are healed,” He whispers, “I have taken away your shame and given you a new name. Rest in my love and let me heal your wounds. I will clothe you in new robes of righteousness. I love you with an everlasting love. Look, the winter is over and gone and the birds are singing. Come. Come away with Me, My beloved.”

You won't relent until You have it all; my heart is Yours'
(You won't Relent, by Misty Edwards)

sun-spot

2010-01-05T10:53:00.003-05:00

The sun coming through the window shines on her light brown hair, turning it into an auburn gold. A dimpled smile lights up her face, a face that is purposefully turned toward the window in order to catch the direct rays. Occasionally, a delighted giggle slips through her parted lips and she wriggles her small body with pure pleasure. She is seemingly oblivious to me as I idly watch her. In fact, she doesn’t seem to really notice anything; her eyes are focused on nothing and I wonder what kind of beautiful thoughts are tumbling around in her mind as she revels in the sun.

No, my sister is not blind or deaf; yet if I called her name, she likely would show no response. Today, she is focused only on the sun and its warmth. However, perhaps a few hours, she will once again acknowledge the presence of other humans. For now, she appears perfectly content to live in her own little world, wrapped in the invisible and sometimes impenetrable bubble that autism and other developmental delays have formed around her.

Sometimes I am tempted to wonder what life would be like if she was normal. What kind of sacrifices and hardships would I have avoided if eleven years ago, my sister had not been born with an incurable disorder? What sort of things would I have been able to do, or what kind of good memories would I have been able to build with my family if my little sister had not constantly hindered us by her behaviors and lack of social skills? Today is only a passing moment of surprising relief; maybe tomorrow she won’t want to sit smiling in the sun. Maybe tomorrow will be the day she tries to escape the house again, wandering down the road with no apparent destination. Maybe it’ll be the day she once again forgets what the bathroom is for or refuses to eat anything, sending her blood sugar to dangerous lows and us into a panic. If she were only normal…

But then I am forced to wonder who or what defines normal. A school system designed for the perfect child? A society obsessed with accomplishments, glamour, and youth? My own mind tends to believe that everyone who does not fit my standard of living or thinking falls beneath normalcy. Who defines the quality of life? Why do my college textbooks say we need to improve our quality of life? My sister will likely not ever achieve our standards of normalcy. She will probably always be dependant on others. She may never speak clearly or be able to make herself understood beyond simple requests. Maybe she will remain entrapped in her bubble; I know that, excepting a divine healing, she will always see the world through the lens of autism. But who am I to think, even subconsciously, that I have a better quality of life than my sister? I don’t have time to sit in the sun and smile—perhaps she has chosen the better way.

I know my life would be different if she was society’s version of normal. And often, I am tempted to wish she was; sometimes I even think I deserve better. That I shouldn’t be enduring car rides with her screaming beside me, that I shouldn’t be giving her insulin shots and preparing her food, that I should be taking her out for sister time in the mall instead of getting her dressed. But then I wonder how I would be different. How many times I would have missed out on the chance to sacrifice and love. True love is giving of yourself without expecting anything in return; to be perfectly honest, love hurts. She will probably never thank me, never acknowledge the sacrifices my family has made…maybe I will never hear the words I love you spontaneously come out of her mouth. But to love someone brings so much happiness, too. It’s a bittersweet happiness, but there’s truly nothing in the world that compares to totally loving someone knowing you have no ulterior or hidden motives. When you realize someone will probably never be able to show you love in return, but still you love, it brings such a wonderful understanding of the love of God for us. My little sister has taught me to love—and is still teaching me; because there are many days I hardly feel the sentiments echoed in this paragraph. And yet, I’m grateful. Grateful for the chance to learn once more.

The sun has set behind the mountains. With its passing, her attention is drawn back into the room and for the first time, she notices me sitting in the couch. Her eyes lose their other-worldly look and light up in recognition. She stands up, preparing to leave the room in search of other amusements but I pull her into my arms first. I love you, babe.

She dimples into a beautiful smile and somewhere, buried deep in her soul, a part untouched by the ravages of her neurological disorder, she answers.

Jesus--the un-Hollywood version.

2009-12-29T16:12:00.000-05:00

Lately, I’m re-discovering Jesus, sometimes seeing things I’ve never seen before.

Jesus was controversial. He flew into rages, chasing merchants out of the temple with a whip, but took time to listen to a sobbing woman’s detailed story. He called the Pharisees cutting names and promised a life of trouble for His followers, yet held little children and danced at weddings. I’m surprised at how much Jesus does NOT fit our stereotype of who we think He should be. I’ve read a lot of books and seen a lot of movies with Jesus as the subject, and yet in nearly every one, He is white and gentle. But Jesus was a brown Jew who apparently possessed a temper.

Somehow, I find it easier to like the biblical Jesus. He made no pretenses about Who He was. He was bitingly honest and genuine in both words and emotion. He cried openly. He made friends with sinners, yet despised sin and lived a perfect life. He was very angry, very gentle, very sarcastic, very kind, very blunt, and very compassionate. He loved—He WAS Love. His version of love was messy; He allowed a woman to weep over His feet, touched people with a deadly skin disease, loved those who despised Him, and ultimately let Himself be nailed to a cross to save His enemies. From that cross, He forgave them.

That’s messy, crazy, and true love.

In return, I have to love Him back with every atom of my body and fiber of my being. It still won’t repay Him. Nothing will. I’m not trying to repay Him—what He did and does for me is priceless. I’m simply responding to His amazing love the only way I possibly can; by receiving it in humble gratitude and then, when I’m absolutely overflowing with His love, it spills out onto others. It’s beautiful.

He is beautiful. The more I get to know Him, the longer I spend in His presence, the more I worship Him, the more beautiful He becomes to me. Nothing and no one is like Him. He is holy. I love the privilege of loving Him. There’s no greater joy on earth.

Giyl.

2009-12-20T16:40:00.003-05:00

I’m so loved.

These past two years, and particularly this fall, have been some of the hardest times of my life. I wouldn’t go back and relive them for anything. However, I wouldn’t change them either. Because it took those hard times when I was literally alone to push me into God’s arms. I run to Him daily. I cry out to Him. Our relationship now is something so sweet, so precious, and so priceless.

Through it all, the Lord has been revealing His heart toward me. His is a heart that longs for a relationship with me. He loves me. He delights in me. I am His creation and He watches me 24\7, sometimes with a thrilled smile, sometimes with tears, and sometimes with anguish. He is anguished when I sin, when I turn my back on Him, when I allow other insignificant things to crowd out our relationship. When I run back to Him, when I fall into His open arms, broken and ashamed, He looks at me with compassion and love. Forgiveness burns in His eyes.

I am my Lover’s and He is mine.

I remember when I used to freak out about whether or not I was truly saved. I was in junior high and obsessed about keeping a diary; as a result, I now have pages of handwritten questions and worries that I wrote to God, and I usually signed it with Rebekah, Your servant. I guess I thought I was trying to show God that I really did want to serve Him. Maybe I subconsciously thought that if I did enough good Christian-like things, I’d be guaranteed a place in heaven. I don’t know.

But I realized the other day that my whole perspective has changed. Slowly, I’ve begun to see a God who loves me, not Someone I fear. Yes, He is to be feared. He is holy. But it’s a reverent worship, not a panicked dread that somehow I’ve displeased Him once again. We don’t do good things or worship Him to prove our love—we do those things because we can’t help doing them. Our love for God overflows out into the things we do.

Sometimes I still have the tendency to forget that I, as a Christian, am not simply a child of God, follower, or a servant—although I am all those things. But I am also a part of the beautiful Bride preparing for her marriage to the Man who laid down His precious life. Boyfriends and lovers today do many radical things in order to win someone’s affections, but the most radical was done by the Man who longed for a relationship with me. He was God in the flesh.

“For the LORD your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, quiet you with His love, and He will rejoice over you in song.” –Zephaniah 3:17

The Hebrew word for “rejoice” in that verse is Giyl. Translation of Giyl: to spin around violently with emotion.

Re-read that verse and substitute the Hebrew translation for the word “rejoice.” And put your name in the place of “you.”

Yes. How do you respond to love like that?

Read the Psalm of Songs book of the Bible. It’ll blow you away.

Heaven and Breakfast table conversations

2009-12-02T10:53:00.002-05:00

Someday soon…

I will be with the One I love. With unveiled face I’ll see Him. There my soul will be satisfied; soon and very soon.
-Soon (Hillsong United)

All our tears will be washed away. Our pain will be a distant memory erased by the freedom in Jesus’ eyes. The doubts we had, the questions we agonized over, the desires that were never fulfilled, will be gone. We will be complete in Him.

Overheard at the breakfast table…

Caleb: I’m gonna be different—I’m not gonna dance in heaven!
Hosannah: Dude, everyone dances in heaven whether or not you dance on earth.
Caleb: Well I’m not doing ballet.

Ethan: We’re not gonna have a house up in heaven.
Hosannah: Yeah we are; a whole mansion.
Ethan: Yeah well not your own. Mansions are for everyone.
Caleb: “In MY mansion, I want strings all over that I can ride on.”
Ethan: “I wish for a cow that I can ride on.”

And I sit beside You.
-Carbon Ribs (John Mark McMillan)

Heart Cry

2009-11-11T11:10:00.004-05:00

She doesn’t love him. She feels nothing but revulsion as his greedy stare rakes her slender body. She silently curses him to hell, as she has cursed the hundreds that came before him.

You are such a loser. I saw you with your wife two minutes ago. Does she know you’re with me tonight?

However, as they walk down the street, hand in hand, she reflects that perhaps hell isn’t such a terrible place after all. She can deal with physical fire. It’s the fire of male passion that that she can’t stand.

I’m trapped.

She knows she’ll likely give up caring eventually. She’s seen it happen with her friends, her aunt, even her older sister. The anguished pain in her heart will eventually disappear in a cloud of apathy, the anger she feels at being used will be replaced by a resigned acceptance. This will be her life.

But today is only the beginning of her fourth week. And the deep defeat she still feels at the loss of her purity still sharply cuts into her soul. But her family needs her. She is their survival. It is with this knowledge that she presses on, allowing herself to be bought and sold at the will of hungry men; a prisoner of their lust.

I don’t even know what love is anymore.

Give a Thai girl a chance for freedom.

http://www.freedom424.org/

And let me just add...God's really laid this whole issue on my heart. My passion for the girls trapped in sex slavery was inherited from my father, who shares the same passion. The last several years, God's begun to show me what I'm to do "when I'm grown up", and yes, it involves this.

living...

2009-11-02T16:46:00.000-05:00

I love life.

Simply living gives me such a thrill at times.

I’ve noticed it’s the small things that truly delight me; taking a few minutes to jump in the leaves, a warm cup of hot chocolate, holding an i-Tunes card and knowing it still has money on it (haha), laughing at one of those lame radio jokes…

It’s not the huge surprises and joys that life gives us sometimes—although those are wonderful. But those don’t happen every day. To truly enjoy life, you have to find enjoyment in the smallest things. Especially if you’re a poor college student who thinks having a life consists of finding a spare minute to crash onto her bed.

Of course life isn’t all fun. My life hasn’t been one big fairy tale delight. There’s not always a silver lining to every cloud. But it’s not all dark and gloom. Even on the stormiest day, there are still puddles to dance in, if you can find them.

…and this public service announcement was brought to you by The Coalition for Silver Linings.
Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

WWJD

2009-10-30T09:41:00.000-04:00

Remember the WWJD phase? I was about six when I got a red shirt that boldly said WWJD and I felt ridiculously pleased to have something so cool. It was the ultimate Christian teenage thing to do—at least in our church.

But for whatever reason, I can’t always make that question work for me the way I want it to.

I can be stuck in some moral or ethical situation and ask myself what Jesus would do, and then of course I have to admit that He probably wouldn’t have gotten Himself wrapped up in such a ridiculous predicament in the first place. So the next solution is for me to decide what He would have done.

Haha yeah right. Like I have an inside track to the mind of Jesus or something.

Jesus doesn’t fit our stereotypes at all, and I’m not talking about His physical appearance. Picture this: I’m walking into the beautiful temple of God and I see, much to my horrified disgust, men cheating and arguing over the precious sacrifices. My immediate reaction is to ask myself what Jesus would have done and I come up with the logical Christian answer. Jesus would ask—ok, I guess He might command—the men to leave, and then clean up the place while beseeching God to help Him keep His temper and help Him love those men. He definitely would keep His cool.

Except in reality, Jesus totally lost his temper and ended up chasing ‘em all out with a whip. He was probably yelling at the top of His lungs, too.

Oooops, guess WWJD didn’t work too well for me in this situation. I didn’t truly ask the question because I thought I already knew. The question came already pre-packaged with the stereotypical answer that fits my comfortable view of Jesus. We don’t truly want to know what Jesus did, and when we find out, we certainly don’t want to do it. It’ll get people upset at us. We won’t be liked. Our beautiful church will lose its congregation if we start addressing sins from the pulpit.

What did Jesus do? He forgave those who spit on Him, falsely accused Him, frustrated Him, annoyed Him, got on His nerves, and eventually killed Him. But at the same time, He obviously said and did things radical enough to create enemies in the first place.

Still want to do what Jesus did?