i don't have anything remotely profound to write but I feel like updating so I'm just going to talk about random things that I've been living lately. Pick a category, any category!
Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants I've lost a little baby fat over the last month. I'm not sure if it's just my body finally returning to normal after being pregnant for 3 years, or if it's medication or what, but it's kind of nice. Except that the clothes I've been wearing are starting to gap and bag. So I've been on the prowl for new jeans. Because I can't live without jeans. Any other form of pants, I can do without, but I am most comfortable in jeans. So. Consignment store, every department store, and back to consignment store. I finally found one pair of pants on sale at Sears that I liked, and two at Goodwill (after trying on at least a dozen pairs). I decided to be selective and not just pick any pair that fit over my thighs. I didn't want stretch ones, anything on the butt (especially jewels) too low or high cut, too loose around the waist, too tight around the ankles or anywhere else(thank you but I am not going to relive the eighties. I am not sixteen and don't want to pretend to be). The result were three pairs that I think will last. I'll keep my eye out, but the hard searching is done. I spent less than $40 total. Not bad, and they're all name brand.
Here comes the Bride (or groom) My cousin-in-law, Rachel, is engaged to a great guy from church, and they're going to be married in two weeks. I can't wait. Mostly because Arlene's a flower girl and Daniel's playing music and it's going to be a joyful family gathering. But also because Rachel is an example of a girl decided to follow God and wait for Him to bring her the right person instead of rushing in and taking the first thing that came along. And I like Jason a lot.
My own brother got engaged last month, but he's decided to wait for a year to get married. Mostly because his fiancee is from another country so there are a lot of details to work out. Also because our younger brother will be deployed to Afganistan for the next year and he wants him to be able to be present for the big life event.
My brother-in-law is also getting married in June. I love his fiancee. She's so awesome. I'm not sure that he's really worthy of her or mature enough to handle adult life, but I guess that's not my call to make (thankfully, because I'd probably screw things up).
Daniel's other cousin also got engaged a couple of weeks ago. To a girl I knew growing up, my mom's friend's daughter. It's kind of cool to hvae her back around and see how the families have changed. Anyway, i guess we'll have another big wedding year, after a couple years of no other weddings.
Simple Pleasures With summer approaching, I've been thinking about activities. I've thought about how busy people are in general driving kids to sports, dance classes, after school clubs, etc. And how families seem to have less and less time together. I don't want our family to be like that. So while I can control it, I think that we're going to forgo scheduled events that we can forgo. (Swimming lessons is a life skill and therefore a different category). I want to have time with my kids to teach them and mold them and help them and let them grow up at their own pace instead of rushing it.
In the same category, I've thought about all of the things we accumulate as we live life, and I've decided (yet again) to work harder at not accumulating them. To classify needs and wants in their true categories, and to avoid spending whenever possible. That's a big statement and probably worthy of its own post. But I won't give it one. I'm just going to make that a weekly prayer that I will discern wisely the difference between wants and needs. I've realized that my kids can't live happy and full lives with so little, that I don't need to set them up for failure by complicating things early on.
Apocalyptic Theories I think I mentioned I'm planning to read Revelation. well, I haven't gotten into it yet. But even though I haven't, I've had a few strange dreams where I've been telling people about Jesus returning or something like that. It's probably all of the economic talk that I don't really understand, and people planning for major downturns in the economy and emp's and nuclear warfare. And I think I won't say much about this lest I be label as a religious nut and/or conspiracy theorist and/or doom-seeker and/or something political. And I don't really want any of those stigmas. I'm not worried about the future, which is so nice.
Little Baby Bundles This really does belong in its own post. several friends have had babies lately or announced pregnancy. It sort of makes me want another one. But our house isn't big enough and our lives aren't settled enough, and I'm finally losing weight and other health issues are in play. So I won't. I'm not pregnant. If you see me bawling next week on Mother's Day, it's because it will probably always be a hard day for me, seeing as I was supposed to have a baby then. Please try not to say something stupid. I don't want to hate you. I'll probably have more to say on that soon.
The Green Thumb We've planted a garden this year. I decided it was a useful skill to hone, and would help us be more frugal and maybe even eat more vegitables. So I planted peas, corn, green beans, carrots and spinach. Daniel planted asparagus and a blueberry plant. He's already started growing grapes the last few years, but he transplanted them this year since someone put a garage in the sunlight's way. I also have a little flower garden that was here when we came. I've added gladiolus this year and they're popping up. I have a flower bed in the front we planted with memory of Grace flowers. Four of them made it this year, which made my heart so happy. I really suck at the "green thumb" thing, but practice makes perfect, right?
I guess that's all for now. I'm going to try to do other productive things. Ha ha.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
The Bible that Falls Apart...
Ever heard that pithy saying? The Bible that falls apart belongs to the person who doesn't.
I haven't made that my life motto or anything, but my Bible has certainly fallen apart. Literally. I am very sad about this. But, this week I purchased a new NET Bible and have put it in the case and have slowly began my transition. It's a different translation than what I've used my whole life, and it's just... different. New Bibles have this great feeling. They smell like leather and book, and the thin pages crinkle with every fresh turn. The silver lining on the outside hasn't worn away yet, so it's shiny. I like it. But not as much as that old little Bible my parents gave me when I was ten. It was a birthday present, and through the years (eighteen freaking years!) it has accompanied me on retreats, conferences, weekend getaways, vacations, church services, pretty much everywhere. Which explains its wear.
It has been an instrument for change in my life, the words have been my solace and fortitude in hard times, my strength in the day-to-day, my hope and peace and joy. None of that will change, of course, but saying goodbye to it has been sort of difficult for me. Now I will have to search for those passages anew every time, instead of remembering which side of the page I read it on and having that advantage.
I taped a penny on the inside cover because I won it playing simon Says on a retreat, where the spaker was talking about not doing what everyone else does. I also have my name in Russian on a name tag from a missionary potluck when Cindy Howard first got ready to leave. It's held important ipctures, postcards, sayings, letters and sermon notes over the years. Opening its pages is like going thrugh a time capsual. The notes I took at age 12 seem so insigificant now, but they mattered then.
Change is good, though. I look forward to the next twenty years in the NET Bible, experiencing new ways of wording things and fidning more life scriptures. All of the underlining, highlights, notes in the margins and color coding will not transfer with me to the new Bible. Which gives me the goal to read through the whole thing again. I haven't done that since college. I think the new Bible is motivation for many new things.
But I'll still keep that old friend of mine handy. I can't get rid of it. It's like a keepsake, a record of my spiritual journey through my growing years. I'll always treasure it for those memories it keeps, and thank God for making His word available to me through that little Bible and so many other ways.
I haven't made that my life motto or anything, but my Bible has certainly fallen apart. Literally. I am very sad about this. But, this week I purchased a new NET Bible and have put it in the case and have slowly began my transition. It's a different translation than what I've used my whole life, and it's just... different. New Bibles have this great feeling. They smell like leather and book, and the thin pages crinkle with every fresh turn. The silver lining on the outside hasn't worn away yet, so it's shiny. I like it. But not as much as that old little Bible my parents gave me when I was ten. It was a birthday present, and through the years (eighteen freaking years!) it has accompanied me on retreats, conferences, weekend getaways, vacations, church services, pretty much everywhere. Which explains its wear.
It has been an instrument for change in my life, the words have been my solace and fortitude in hard times, my strength in the day-to-day, my hope and peace and joy. None of that will change, of course, but saying goodbye to it has been sort of difficult for me. Now I will have to search for those passages anew every time, instead of remembering which side of the page I read it on and having that advantage.
I taped a penny on the inside cover because I won it playing simon Says on a retreat, where the spaker was talking about not doing what everyone else does. I also have my name in Russian on a name tag from a missionary potluck when Cindy Howard first got ready to leave. It's held important ipctures, postcards, sayings, letters and sermon notes over the years. Opening its pages is like going thrugh a time capsual. The notes I took at age 12 seem so insigificant now, but they mattered then.
Change is good, though. I look forward to the next twenty years in the NET Bible, experiencing new ways of wording things and fidning more life scriptures. All of the underlining, highlights, notes in the margins and color coding will not transfer with me to the new Bible. Which gives me the goal to read through the whole thing again. I haven't done that since college. I think the new Bible is motivation for many new things.
But I'll still keep that old friend of mine handy. I can't get rid of it. It's like a keepsake, a record of my spiritual journey through my growing years. I'll always treasure it for those memories it keeps, and thank God for making His word available to me through that little Bible and so many other ways.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Reading List
In between Babar, Curious George, Nursery Rhymes and other picture books about squirrels and ducks and who knows what else, I've been picking away book by book. Slowly most of the time. I miss the time I had in college and when I was working to waste time reading all the time. It doesn't happen as much these days, but I have made it a small priority, so as not to let my brain get fried by cleaning up poop and singing the ABC's.
Light reading has been the "Peculiar Treasures" series by Robin Jones Gunn (who, if you know me, know that she is one of my favorites). It's chick-lit which might be all I need to say. It's a
spin-off series about a girl in college named Katie Weldon and her experiences with life. Like I said, light reading.
I didn't used to like biographies much, but I've started to really enjoy them once in a while. I finished the journals of Lewis and Clark earlier this year (after about three years of being the toilet reader, mind you), so I replaced it with another collection of explorers' diaries (Mammoth Book of Explorers, edited by John Keay). So far, I've read about Georg Wilhelm Stellar, John Dundas Cochrane (who may actually be a relative of mine). He walked from St. Petersburg to Moscow, and made some interesting observations. I've read about several Central and South Asian explorers, Alexander Burns with the Uzbecks, John Wood, Regis-Evariste Huc, and a bunch of others you won't care to know. I'm currently on Sven Hedin at the Source of the Indus. They're good stories with insights abotu culture that you wouldn't expect.
The other biography I've read was entitled "Scars and Stilettos" by Harmony Dust. She was a stripper starting at age 19, and it's the story of how she landed in the sex industry and how she got out. It's a really good read, very descriptive and interesting. Even if you aren't interested in the stripping part, it's a good story about the life of a messed-up girl and how she was redeemed. She now has a ministry to strip clubs in the Los Angeles area called "Treasures". I don't recommend this book to a guy, but to a girl, especially one with baggage from life, I think it would offer a lot of encouragement, and maybe even enlightenment.
I also joined a new club recently. Tonight I finished my first John Grisham novel. My cousin recommended "The Testament", so I bought it at a used bookstore and picked my way through it. Now, I don't know what other Grisham novels are like, but let me just say, I wasn't impressed with the writing. The story was good, and kept me guessing the whole way through. Sometimes it gets a little tedious and long, but it was worth it. Although, Daniel listened to the abridged audio version, and I probably should have gone that route.
Another book recommended by a fellow sci-fi fan friend was "The Invention of Morel" by Adolfo Bioy Casares. Strange book. It was sort of interesting, but there isn't a good way to synopsize it. It's just weird. And I read it because of its association with the show LOST. It's short and reads fast, and it was really interesting. Didn't care for the ending, though.
In the Bible, I've been studying John (hence recent poetry). I've also decided I should read Revelation without the accompaniment of a commentary. Because I've never done that.
I don't have a big list queued up yet, so if anyone has recommendations, I'm happy to explore those options. I think it might be time for another classic.
Light reading has been the "Peculiar Treasures" series by Robin Jones Gunn (who, if you know me, know that she is one of my favorites). It's chick-lit which might be all I need to say. It's a
spin-off series about a girl in college named Katie Weldon and her experiences with life. Like I said, light reading.I didn't used to like biographies much, but I've started to really enjoy them once in a while. I finished the journals of Lewis and Clark earlier this year (after about three years of being the toilet reader, mind you), so I replaced it with another collection of explorers' diaries (Mammoth Book of Explorers, edited by John Keay). So far, I've read about Georg Wilhelm Stellar, John Dundas Cochrane (who may actually be a relative of mine). He walked from St. Petersburg to Moscow, and made some interesting observations. I've read about several Central and South Asian explorers, Alexander Burns with the Uzbecks, John Wood, Regis-Evariste Huc, and a bunch of others you won't care to know. I'm currently on Sven Hedin at the Source of the Indus. They're good stories with insights abotu culture that you wouldn't expect.
The other biography I've read was entitled "Scars and Stilettos" by Harmony Dust. She was a stripper starting at age 19, and it's the story of how she landed in the sex industry and how she got out. It's a really good read, very descriptive and interesting. Even if you aren't interested in the stripping part, it's a good story about the life of a messed-up girl and how she was redeemed. She now has a ministry to strip clubs in the Los Angeles area called "Treasures". I don't recommend this book to a guy, but to a girl, especially one with baggage from life, I think it would offer a lot of encouragement, and maybe even enlightenment.
I also joined a new club recently. Tonight I finished my first John Grisham novel. My cousin recommended "The Testament", so I bought it at a used bookstore and picked my way through it. Now, I don't know what other Grisham novels are like, but let me just say, I wasn't impressed with the writing. The story was good, and kept me guessing the whole way through. Sometimes it gets a little tedious and long, but it was worth it. Although, Daniel listened to the abridged audio version, and I probably should have gone that route.
Another book recommended by a fellow sci-fi fan friend was "The Invention of Morel" by Adolfo Bioy Casares. Strange book. It was sort of interesting, but there isn't a good way to synopsize it. It's just weird. And I read it because of its association with the show LOST. It's short and reads fast, and it was really interesting. Didn't care for the ending, though.
In the Bible, I've been studying John (hence recent poetry). I've also decided I should read Revelation without the accompaniment of a commentary. Because I've never done that.
I don't have a big list queued up yet, so if anyone has recommendations, I'm happy to explore those options. I think it might be time for another classic.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
What Creative Kids do with Spare Time
Prepare yourself for the most awesome thing yuo'll see all week:
Oh yeah. While most girls in junior high packed their caboodle case full of make-up, lotions and other cosmetics, mine was a split-level home for my awesome G.I Joe guy. (I did unpack him and load my case up for youth group trips like retreats and camp, but I don't know why because all I put inside were little containers of shampoo/conditioner and a hairbrush).
In fifth grade and probably sixth too, I didn't have a lot of friends, but I did have a lot of spare time and extra creativity, and a mom who let me do whatever I wanted with her sewing machine. So, I diligently pieced together a house for my G.I. Joe, affectionately named "Dumb Guy" (No idea why). I think his roommate's name was Jack. He came later. for a long time Joe lived alone.
I recently unearthed this favorite memory of mine. I spent a lot of time collecting the right objects for their house. Unfortunately, my stupid tenth grade English teacher obtained some of the objects I'd borrowed from Joe's house for a shadow box project (Jo March's attic).
Here they are showing off their "accessories". Notice a RC tank, a real (plastic) gun, backpacks, and extra rope. The old Bubble Tape container held their video tapes, books, and nintendo parts. (My dad also let me use his jigsaw to cut whatever I wanted). I used to have a TV I made with a piece of scrap wood and nails, but it's been misplaced. Joe broke his leg when I was older. He has a permanent bandage now. :(
Here they are chillin in their living room on their couch, wearing their backpacks. Because they're getting ready to go hiking. But first they needed to watch their favorite show.
It's really hard to make tiny clothes. And, GI Joes are way harder to dress than Barbie Dolls. FYI. All of these are remakes, because my of aforementioned theft from teacher. But you get the general idea. They're pajamas.
Now they're having a late-night chat in Joe's room. He likes to have his stuffed pig nearby. They're also sporting their well-designed and hand crafted flannel pajamas. Very comfortable.
The top layer was their bedrooms. There is a rope ladder in the "closet" hanging from the middle compartment. At one time they had a house guest who stuck around for a long time and that was his house. His name was Weird Troll (my neighbor Jesse's contribution).
Yeah. So.... Now you know my dark secrets. I had a lot of fun with these guys, too. Barbie Dolls were not nearly as exciting.
Oh yeah. While most girls in junior high packed their caboodle case full of make-up, lotions and other cosmetics, mine was a split-level home for my awesome G.I Joe guy. (I did unpack him and load my case up for youth group trips like retreats and camp, but I don't know why because all I put inside were little containers of shampoo/conditioner and a hairbrush).
In fifth grade and probably sixth too, I didn't have a lot of friends, but I did have a lot of spare time and extra creativity, and a mom who let me do whatever I wanted with her sewing machine. So, I diligently pieced together a house for my G.I. Joe, affectionately named "Dumb Guy" (No idea why). I think his roommate's name was Jack. He came later. for a long time Joe lived alone.
I recently unearthed this favorite memory of mine. I spent a lot of time collecting the right objects for their house. Unfortunately, my stupid tenth grade English teacher obtained some of the objects I'd borrowed from Joe's house for a shadow box project (Jo March's attic).
Here they are showing off their "accessories". Notice a RC tank, a real (plastic) gun, backpacks, and extra rope. The old Bubble Tape container held their video tapes, books, and nintendo parts. (My dad also let me use his jigsaw to cut whatever I wanted). I used to have a TV I made with a piece of scrap wood and nails, but it's been misplaced. Joe broke his leg when I was older. He has a permanent bandage now. :(
Here they are chillin in their living room on their couch, wearing their backpacks. Because they're getting ready to go hiking. But first they needed to watch their favorite show.
It's really hard to make tiny clothes. And, GI Joes are way harder to dress than Barbie Dolls. FYI. All of these are remakes, because my of aforementioned theft from teacher. But you get the general idea. They're pajamas.
Now they're having a late-night chat in Joe's room. He likes to have his stuffed pig nearby. They're also sporting their well-designed and hand crafted flannel pajamas. Very comfortable.
The top layer was their bedrooms. There is a rope ladder in the "closet" hanging from the middle compartment. At one time they had a house guest who stuck around for a long time and that was his house. His name was Weird Troll (my neighbor Jesse's contribution).
Yeah. So.... Now you know my dark secrets. I had a lot of fun with these guys, too. Barbie Dolls were not nearly as exciting.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Making Friends Part Three (Being Grown-Up)
People walk in and out of our lives at an alarming rate. Once in a while, one of them is fun and ex citing and you can't wait to get to know them better, because you feel like you already know each other, somewhere deep in your heart. It happens less and less as I grow older. There's more space in our interactions, and less available time to invest.
Now that I'm adult, if I decide to invest and try to be friends, it means a lot to me. I don't have the kind of personality that just collects people with every smile and funny joke. It takes time and energy, and frankly, I don't always find it necessary. I'm pretty content here where I am.
I wish it weren't so much work. I wish that everyone related to me the same way I try to relate to them. So I wouldn't have to communicate. Or at least, that we had so much in common, it became easy to talk about everything. But it doesn't work like that. You have to be so intentional. You have to make phone calls and send emails even when they don't respond, because maybe they just aren't the sort who respond well. Maybe they're happy just seeing you once a year and talking on the phone (for the record, I HATE talking on the phone). You have to communicate intensely about your expectations and your goals. You have to forgive so often and let go of things that they did that didn't mean to hurt but they did.
You have to work to keep them, but still let them go. I don't know the balance that well. When i make a friend, I sort of just want them to stay with me and like me the best. But they usually don't, and they usually prefer someone else over me. It sucks.
But, I've learned, maybe not every person has to be the "best friend" you remember from high school. Maybe this one's here to help you with parenting, and this one knows how it feels when you aren't getting along with your husband, and one is so fun to go to concerts with, and one hangs out at your house and likes your family, and another one only sees you at church. I guess that's part of being a grown up too. Letting go of expectations and letting them be--letting it be what it is.
Now that I'm adult, if I decide to invest and try to be friends, it means a lot to me. I don't have the kind of personality that just collects people with every smile and funny joke. It takes time and energy, and frankly, I don't always find it necessary. I'm pretty content here where I am.
I wish it weren't so much work. I wish that everyone related to me the same way I try to relate to them. So I wouldn't have to communicate. Or at least, that we had so much in common, it became easy to talk about everything. But it doesn't work like that. You have to be so intentional. You have to make phone calls and send emails even when they don't respond, because maybe they just aren't the sort who respond well. Maybe they're happy just seeing you once a year and talking on the phone (for the record, I HATE talking on the phone). You have to communicate intensely about your expectations and your goals. You have to forgive so often and let go of things that they did that didn't mean to hurt but they did.
You have to work to keep them, but still let them go. I don't know the balance that well. When i make a friend, I sort of just want them to stay with me and like me the best. But they usually don't, and they usually prefer someone else over me. It sucks.
But, I've learned, maybe not every person has to be the "best friend" you remember from high school. Maybe this one's here to help you with parenting, and this one knows how it feels when you aren't getting along with your husband, and one is so fun to go to concerts with, and one hangs out at your house and likes your family, and another one only sees you at church. I guess that's part of being a grown up too. Letting go of expectations and letting them be--letting it be what it is.
Making Friends Part Four (Truth in the Inner Parts)
There was a person in my life at one time (as an adult) who really wanted to be friends with me. I liked her a lot too. We talked and visited and got along pretty well. Until one night, she shared with me that she was jealous of me. She talked about why, and I told her she didn't need to be an explained why. I thought it had all been worked out that night and we moved on.
I didn't really understand jealousy, and how it creeps in when you don't want it to be there. How it undermines your trust and security. I didn't empathize with this friend. And I'm dense, so I really didn't know what was going on below the surface. We kept meeting up and visiting whenever she was in town. One time, we got together and talked for a long time, and I just decided to share. I knew how closed off I got, and I decided she was trustworthy and would be a good friend. So I talked and we talked and it was so nice.
The next time we were together, I realized that the jealousy she had still hadn't gone away. It was something someone else said to me, and I never confronted her about it. I planned to, but then it just didn't work out. The time never got right.
so because of that, I lost a lot of time. W e're still friends, and I think I finally shared what the deepest hurt was, how she hadn't trusted me even when I'd borne my soul to her. eventually we worked through it. I should have been more understand. Less jumpy and quick to judge.
I think, as I look back, our whole friendship was built on faulty premises. She didn't trust me, and because of that I didn't really trust her. I had a lot of bitterness for several years. (If you're asking why I didn't just dump her it was because she actually ended up being a relative and I thought it was worth keeping the relationship strong). And I wonder how many friendships through the years have been like that. Laid on top of sand, which crumbles and gives way to time and changes.
Because a real friendship, a heart relationship, starts with accepting each other and loving each other as we are. We can't do that if we're hiding our true selves. I do hide. It's easier than being vulnerable and letting someone have the chance to hurt me by rejecting me. If you build on anything but truth and honesty, the relationship will go one of two ways: you'll have to dig through some ugly dirt to uncover what it truly is, or you'll split in two and go seperate ways whenever circumstances or personalities or opinions change.
I think my big problem is just exposing my weakness. Not necessarily dumping every mistake I've ever made and sharing all of my intimate thoughts, but just exposing the fact that I struggle when something hard comes into my life.
Maybe what it comes down to is just being OK with weaknesses. I'm not, I don't think. sometimes I am, if it's a convenient one that I know everyone has. But I don't really like sharing my thoughts with others. And I think, sometimes, that practiced hardness locks God out too. It's not like He doesn't know. I just don't prefer to acknowledge my problems.
While I was working through this jealousy problem with that friend, I read Psalm 51. Verse 6 says, "You desire truth in the inward parts, and in the hidden part you will make me to know wisdom. Cleanse me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me and I will be whiter than snow."
I think, if I can have that attitude with God, it will become easier to have it with people. If I'm OK with my weaknesses and sin, because I know God's taken care of them, then I'll be OK with other people knowing them. rightness with God equals rightness with men. His perspective is what I should be living by, not the ones that others put on me.
I didn't really understand jealousy, and how it creeps in when you don't want it to be there. How it undermines your trust and security. I didn't empathize with this friend. And I'm dense, so I really didn't know what was going on below the surface. We kept meeting up and visiting whenever she was in town. One time, we got together and talked for a long time, and I just decided to share. I knew how closed off I got, and I decided she was trustworthy and would be a good friend. So I talked and we talked and it was so nice.
The next time we were together, I realized that the jealousy she had still hadn't gone away. It was something someone else said to me, and I never confronted her about it. I planned to, but then it just didn't work out. The time never got right.
so because of that, I lost a lot of time. W e're still friends, and I think I finally shared what the deepest hurt was, how she hadn't trusted me even when I'd borne my soul to her. eventually we worked through it. I should have been more understand. Less jumpy and quick to judge.
I think, as I look back, our whole friendship was built on faulty premises. She didn't trust me, and because of that I didn't really trust her. I had a lot of bitterness for several years. (If you're asking why I didn't just dump her it was because she actually ended up being a relative and I thought it was worth keeping the relationship strong). And I wonder how many friendships through the years have been like that. Laid on top of sand, which crumbles and gives way to time and changes.
Because a real friendship, a heart relationship, starts with accepting each other and loving each other as we are. We can't do that if we're hiding our true selves. I do hide. It's easier than being vulnerable and letting someone have the chance to hurt me by rejecting me. If you build on anything but truth and honesty, the relationship will go one of two ways: you'll have to dig through some ugly dirt to uncover what it truly is, or you'll split in two and go seperate ways whenever circumstances or personalities or opinions change.
I think my big problem is just exposing my weakness. Not necessarily dumping every mistake I've ever made and sharing all of my intimate thoughts, but just exposing the fact that I struggle when something hard comes into my life.
Maybe what it comes down to is just being OK with weaknesses. I'm not, I don't think. sometimes I am, if it's a convenient one that I know everyone has. But I don't really like sharing my thoughts with others. And I think, sometimes, that practiced hardness locks God out too. It's not like He doesn't know. I just don't prefer to acknowledge my problems.
While I was working through this jealousy problem with that friend, I read Psalm 51. Verse 6 says, "You desire truth in the inward parts, and in the hidden part you will make me to know wisdom. Cleanse me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me and I will be whiter than snow."
I think, if I can have that attitude with God, it will become easier to have it with people. If I'm OK with my weaknesses and sin, because I know God's taken care of them, then I'll be OK with other people knowing them. rightness with God equals rightness with men. His perspective is what I should be living by, not the ones that others put on me.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Is the Brightness Still in Me
This is for Scarlet:
The lyrics of this song sort of responds to your comment, I think. About my faith and how it seems to weaken and grow at different places in life. IT's one of my favorite songs by Charlie Peacock, primarily because there's an awesome non-bluegrass banjo solo and I think that's cool.
I've always liked the depth and poetry in this guy's lyrics. I have no idea what kind of music you like (scar) but he's kind of jazz-influenced pop. I think there's a link on the side of my blog for his site.
Anyway!
Is the Brightness Still in Me
(Copyright 1999 Sparrow Music, written by Charlie Peacock)
The number of my days
The span of my ways
Too many to mention
too wide to hold
Written on my skin
Is the shape that I'm in
I know I'm not a young man
But neither am I old
Still I gotta wonder
Is the brightness still in me
Can I hold my own and sing a simple song
Oh I gotta wonder
Is the brightness still in me
as it was when I was young and first believed?
The light of God within
Forever grace given
To every sinner broken
Who dares to call God strong
Holy Spirit speak
when my light grows weak
Make me shine like Jesus
Fill me with His song
Chorus
And I think I've learned
to love the freedom of the boundary line
where freedom in the Spirit equals peace of mind
Still there are nights when I close my eyes
and wrestle with the powers of hell
There are just as many if not more good mornings
when I wake up laughing
and remember all is well
The lyrics of this song sort of responds to your comment, I think. About my faith and how it seems to weaken and grow at different places in life. IT's one of my favorite songs by Charlie Peacock, primarily because there's an awesome non-bluegrass banjo solo and I think that's cool.
I've always liked the depth and poetry in this guy's lyrics. I have no idea what kind of music you like (scar) but he's kind of jazz-influenced pop. I think there's a link on the side of my blog for his site.
Anyway!
Is the Brightness Still in Me
(Copyright 1999 Sparrow Music, written by Charlie Peacock)
The number of my days
The span of my ways
Too many to mention
too wide to hold
Written on my skin
Is the shape that I'm in
I know I'm not a young man
But neither am I old
Still I gotta wonder
Is the brightness still in me
Can I hold my own and sing a simple song
Oh I gotta wonder
Is the brightness still in me
as it was when I was young and first believed?
The light of God within
Forever grace given
To every sinner broken
Who dares to call God strong
Holy Spirit speak
when my light grows weak
Make me shine like Jesus
Fill me with His song
Chorus
And I think I've learned
to love the freedom of the boundary line
where freedom in the Spirit equals peace of mind
Still there are nights when I close my eyes
and wrestle with the powers of hell
There are just as many if not more good mornings
when I wake up laughing
and remember all is well
Saturday, April 03, 2010
The Doubting Thomas
Doubting Thomas
So here we are, tonight,
waiting for news.
All of our dreams gone
No one to lead us
No new ambitions
No hope
The “savior”, succumbed to death
beaten and bruised
Laughed at, spit on,
Betrayed by our friend.
Laying in a cave somewhere
What’s the next step?
Now that we have been scattered
Lost our shepherd,
Wandering like lonely sheep.
Hiding behind closed doors
Praying to someone we thought we’d known
The Powerful One, the Almighty
Gone now , with a gasp of air
And had He whispered something then?
We sit like refugees
Waiting for the guards to take us
Waiting for word from that tomb
Faith shaken, heart pounding every moment
And none of us has slept in two days.
I remember He’d said this would happen
But I didn’t believe.
I never believed until later
And I don’t know if I can believe now.
I’ve never been so afraid
I’ve never known fear like this
Not just from the darkness and the earthquakes
And the walking dead
But the emptiness here in my soul
The doubt that pierces and screams and fights
What if everything He said was wrong?
What if I followed Him to my death
And His?
But I remember His words
The soft way he spoke
With quiet authority over it all
Every situation, every storm
Every question presented
And each moment
In which we saw nothing happening,
Where the Father watched and waited
Where we stared and contemplated
His words, so true
So hard to understand.
He said He’d raise again, and I remember
The prophesies from when I was young
The Messiah would live
And rule, and save us from oppression
But He always had something else on His mind
Healing sick people and teaching new things.
Where is the Healer now?
Locked behind a stone, guarded there
Like a prisoner, even in death.
and I don’t think He even said goodbye.
But those last words
I’ll always remember
He called me His friend
He said I wouldn’t be an orphan
He promised me a helper to be there
And to teach me
He talked about mansions and glory
And the Spirit of Truth
He told us to not be troubled
To trust in God, trust also in Him
and He prayed for our peace
I can hold on to that
At least for tonight
And when the morning comes,
When Peter and John go to check
I will know what kind of teacher He was.
I will believe His words for now
Even in the darkness
Because I have no where else to go
He possessed the words of life
He shared the Father with us
Like no one ever had
And for that, I will ever love Him
I will still follow to the death.
Because I think He’s the way to God
The truth in everything uncertain
And in Him we find life.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Making Friends Part Two (Along The Road)
i once heard someone on the radio talk about friendships in two categories: Friends of the road and friends of the heart. It speaks for itself. You have some friends you walk along side while you're on whatever path--school, work, motherhood, etc. You have other friends who you usually meet on that path, but there's more to it. You connect on a deeper level, and even if your paths seperate, you remain close.
I often think about that and wonder how so many of my friends who i thought were heart friends, ended up leaving me. My best friend in high school, Copper (identity veiled), was so incredible. We agreed on everything. We were weird. We liked the same things. We shared the same faith, or at least she said she did. We even had the same birthday. I thought we'd be friends forever. But, when she went to Georgia for school, we hardly talked. We'd chat online some, but slowly that faded. She was in my wedding (and I sorely regret not having her as a bridesmaid but that's another story), and after that, I just hardly saw her. I didn't realize she didn't want to be friends, so I kept writing her and giving her presents and things, and eventually I realized that she'd just decided to ignore me. So we aren't friends anymore, and she doesn't agree with my lifestyle or faith and beliefs and it breaks my heart. Because I wonder how stupid I was, how naive? Was she lying all along just so I'd like her? Why couldn't I see her for who she really was, or did she just simply change? I thought we were great friends, but I hardly knew her.
Same thing has happened with multiple people. And it drives me nuts. What is it about me that keeps people at arm's length? Why can't I just share my heart with them instead of only sharing my life?
As adults, it seems harder to find "friends of the heart". I guess because we don't have as many friends of the road, and we're too busy with other things to invest a lot of time. I've often thought I was coming upon a friend of the heart, only to discover that the feelings aren't mutual. those failures only push me further away from people and add another layer of bricks to my defensive wall.
When you take off your mask and tear away everything you do to look good, what's left is your heart. Laid bare. exposed to the arrows and rocks of "friends". Also exposed to healing salves and oils of forgiveness, beauty and love. Is it worth it? I haven't decided. I like it when I can get to that point with someone, but it takes a long time. And, with every friend who's left me walking alone on the side of the road, my defenses are harder to tear away. I haven't met a lot of people who find it worth their while to work through those either.
Which reminds me of a song. So I will post the lyrics, because I'm sure you're all so interested. It's a song Christine Dente wrote about her husband, paralleling God and His work in her life. I cried the first time I heard it.
I often think about that and wonder how so many of my friends who i thought were heart friends, ended up leaving me. My best friend in high school, Copper (identity veiled), was so incredible. We agreed on everything. We were weird. We liked the same things. We shared the same faith, or at least she said she did. We even had the same birthday. I thought we'd be friends forever. But, when she went to Georgia for school, we hardly talked. We'd chat online some, but slowly that faded. She was in my wedding (and I sorely regret not having her as a bridesmaid but that's another story), and after that, I just hardly saw her. I didn't realize she didn't want to be friends, so I kept writing her and giving her presents and things, and eventually I realized that she'd just decided to ignore me. So we aren't friends anymore, and she doesn't agree with my lifestyle or faith and beliefs and it breaks my heart. Because I wonder how stupid I was, how naive? Was she lying all along just so I'd like her? Why couldn't I see her for who she really was, or did she just simply change? I thought we were great friends, but I hardly knew her.
Same thing has happened with multiple people. And it drives me nuts. What is it about me that keeps people at arm's length? Why can't I just share my heart with them instead of only sharing my life?
As adults, it seems harder to find "friends of the heart". I guess because we don't have as many friends of the road, and we're too busy with other things to invest a lot of time. I've often thought I was coming upon a friend of the heart, only to discover that the feelings aren't mutual. those failures only push me further away from people and add another layer of bricks to my defensive wall.
When you take off your mask and tear away everything you do to look good, what's left is your heart. Laid bare. exposed to the arrows and rocks of "friends". Also exposed to healing salves and oils of forgiveness, beauty and love. Is it worth it? I haven't decided. I like it when I can get to that point with someone, but it takes a long time. And, with every friend who's left me walking alone on the side of the road, my defenses are harder to tear away. I haven't met a lot of people who find it worth their while to work through those either.
Which reminds me of a song. So I will post the lyrics, because I'm sure you're all so interested. It's a song Christine Dente wrote about her husband, paralleling God and His work in her life. I cried the first time I heard it.
Becoming
These are my sidewalks
They wound around the neighborhood
Always led me straight and safely home
But now they're uneven
'Cause roots move beneath them
And time won't leave well enough alone
And I had been trying to smooth these stones
Thought I could make my way alone
I tried the whimsical, gauzy pink dresses
That spin in the wind when you twirl
But somehow the princess gown
Never did fit this girl
So I fled the garden for the tower
And I had been hiding behind these stones
Thought I'd be well enough alone
Then you came nearer
You held the mirror
I saw myself there in your eyes
And I had been running
Still you pursued
I watched you move each heavy stone
The thorns around me tore your skin
But you kept coming through
'Cause you won't leave well enough alone
I am becoming what I once was
The girl in the mirror of your love
I am becoming
Your love becomes me
© 2002 Mighty Grey Music/Lil' Yella House Music/
Dayspring Music, LLC (BMI)
These are my sidewalks
They wound around the neighborhood
Always led me straight and safely home
But now they're uneven
'Cause roots move beneath them
And time won't leave well enough alone
And I had been trying to smooth these stones
Thought I could make my way alone
I tried the whimsical, gauzy pink dresses
That spin in the wind when you twirl
But somehow the princess gown
Never did fit this girl
So I fled the garden for the tower
And I had been hiding behind these stones
Thought I'd be well enough alone
Then you came nearer
You held the mirror
I saw myself there in your eyes
And I had been running
Still you pursued
I watched you move each heavy stone
The thorns around me tore your skin
But you kept coming through
'Cause you won't leave well enough alone
I am becoming what I once was
The girl in the mirror of your love
I am becoming
Your love becomes me
© 2002 Mighty Grey Music/Lil' Yella House Music/
Dayspring Music, LLC (BMI)
Monday, March 22, 2010
Making Friends Part One (The history)
When i was a kid, I met my best friend Stasia in kindergarten. We played at recess, we stayed at each others' houses on weekends and went out to eat with the other's family. She was an only child, I had two brothers. We had so little in common, and yet we just liked each other.
Turns out it's the same way today. We didn't talk a lot in middle school or the first half of high school, but we ended up going to college together. And, as we became adults, we had to reform our friendship. Rewrite it. Being friends as kids, you have all this common ground to stand on because you have the same classes, ride the same bus, and play the same games. As adults you live in your own houses and have big responsibilities to take care of. You choose different, grown-up hobbies which don't usually involve collecting rocks or watching the latest boy band.
I credit most of our friendship to the fact that Stasia didn't back away through the changes. When I got married, most of the friends I'd had from high school stopped calling and hanging around. I guess that dynamic changing caused them to be uneasy or awkward, even though it hadn't been before I was married, even with spouse along. I don't know what changed, because I haven't really lived the single life and seen it from their perspective. From mine, what I saw was I wasn't good enough to be their friend.
It sounds painful, but long before that, I'd closed myself off from getting hurt. Because, I was used to. I don't know when it started, but I've felt so alone so often. Starting in forth grade (when my evil teacher transferred all of my new friends out of my class) I just haven't quite fit in. No one was really mean to me. I wasn't the kid who was weird enough to get made fun of. Just weird enough to not fit in. So I spent most of my recess days making up stories in my head and trying to avoid being talked to. I made an art of not getting picked on. My brothers both were picked on, and I didn't want that, so I became invisible. It worked pretty well. People thought I was the shy girl, or would say that I was nice. "Nice" means not interesting enough to be friends with you, but not weird enough to be worth picking on.
Youth group was worse than school, really. Aside from Bethany, my true blue friend who has always been there for me, I was probably the only kid in my class who cared to learn about Jesus or anything the Bible said. And church kids are mean. They always were for some reason. I hung around the youth leaders a lot and babysat their kids.
I didn't mind being a misfit most of the time. Thankfully, I was part of a secure family unit who accepted me and loved me. I tried to stay out of their way and keep them out of my life as much as possible, but I think it was just protecting myself from being forced to make friends with anyone. Because friendship just didn't really work well for me.
The hardest blow was probably in seventh grade when I had this nice little group of frineds I hung out with. The one day, I don't know why, they decided not to like me anymore. And they went around the table and each said why they couldn't sit with me for lunch, and I never got to eat at their table or work in their project groups again. It ended up being me and this Mormon girl Sara (who actually ended up being really popular in high school) at a table with a couple other rejects.
Actually, right after that happened, I also had the classic teenage TV show problem that doesn't really happen to anyone. I was the only girl in the whole class who didn't get invited to a party. It didn't turn otu to be an accident like it does on TV, either. The girls throwing the party made sure I knew they'd invited "Everyone. Even Corey and Karen. Just not the losers." They looked right at me when they said that. Evil girls. i still don't know why they hated me like that.
When high school came, things actually got worse. My middle school combines with other middle schools to make high school, and I came from a small class. I didn't know anyone in most of my classes, save one guy from church who was actually pretty nice at school (didn't talk to me much at church before that). I did eventually meet some friends, and I'm even still friends with a cuople of them now. So it wasn't all bad. The worst blow was when we left the church we went to. The youth group there had been pretty terrible but i did have some friends, and I did have a place there. When we left, my close friend Adam got mad about it. we argued one day, and then he never talked to me again. For a few months, it seemed like I just didn't have anyone to be friends with.
stasia wasn't in my life. Bethany went to the church we'd just left and was laying low (she came around, though, and I'm so glad). I didn't know anyone at school very well. I didn't connect with anyone. Thank God for the internet because one great friend got me through. I've talked about Brian before though. Also, my older brother is pretty awesome and let me tag along when he did stuff with his friends, so I at least had stuff to do even if I was just a tag along.
This is turning into a pretty long post, which I didn't mean to have happen. I just wanted to lay the foundation for what I've been thinking about adult friendships. This obviously has nothing to do with adult friendships. I'll get there, promise. Not in this post.
Anyway, all of the history is just to share the loneliness. I suppose everyone feels like no one knows them at some point. And there were bright spots in my aloneness. There was Josh who played French horn with me and shared homework answers. He was alawys really nice to me. And Jonathan and Aaron in forth grade. But they played football at recess and I didn't like playing football. They drew pictures in class, and I liked that part. It's not like no one talked to me. and usually they even did so respectfully. They just didn't invite me out on weekends. But, because of the invisible thing and trying so hard to not get made fun of and protecting myself, I just built a giant wall around my heart to keep anyone from knowing me. I didn't want anyone to have any ammunition to hurt me with. Including my family. No one knew me, no one seemed to care enough to (except for Brian) and sadly, by the end of my freshman year, I was pretty satisfied to just have it stay that way.
To be continued.
Turns out it's the same way today. We didn't talk a lot in middle school or the first half of high school, but we ended up going to college together. And, as we became adults, we had to reform our friendship. Rewrite it. Being friends as kids, you have all this common ground to stand on because you have the same classes, ride the same bus, and play the same games. As adults you live in your own houses and have big responsibilities to take care of. You choose different, grown-up hobbies which don't usually involve collecting rocks or watching the latest boy band.
I credit most of our friendship to the fact that Stasia didn't back away through the changes. When I got married, most of the friends I'd had from high school stopped calling and hanging around. I guess that dynamic changing caused them to be uneasy or awkward, even though it hadn't been before I was married, even with spouse along. I don't know what changed, because I haven't really lived the single life and seen it from their perspective. From mine, what I saw was I wasn't good enough to be their friend.
It sounds painful, but long before that, I'd closed myself off from getting hurt. Because, I was used to. I don't know when it started, but I've felt so alone so often. Starting in forth grade (when my evil teacher transferred all of my new friends out of my class) I just haven't quite fit in. No one was really mean to me. I wasn't the kid who was weird enough to get made fun of. Just weird enough to not fit in. So I spent most of my recess days making up stories in my head and trying to avoid being talked to. I made an art of not getting picked on. My brothers both were picked on, and I didn't want that, so I became invisible. It worked pretty well. People thought I was the shy girl, or would say that I was nice. "Nice" means not interesting enough to be friends with you, but not weird enough to be worth picking on.
Youth group was worse than school, really. Aside from Bethany, my true blue friend who has always been there for me, I was probably the only kid in my class who cared to learn about Jesus or anything the Bible said. And church kids are mean. They always were for some reason. I hung around the youth leaders a lot and babysat their kids.
I didn't mind being a misfit most of the time. Thankfully, I was part of a secure family unit who accepted me and loved me. I tried to stay out of their way and keep them out of my life as much as possible, but I think it was just protecting myself from being forced to make friends with anyone. Because friendship just didn't really work well for me.
The hardest blow was probably in seventh grade when I had this nice little group of frineds I hung out with. The one day, I don't know why, they decided not to like me anymore. And they went around the table and each said why they couldn't sit with me for lunch, and I never got to eat at their table or work in their project groups again. It ended up being me and this Mormon girl Sara (who actually ended up being really popular in high school) at a table with a couple other rejects.
Actually, right after that happened, I also had the classic teenage TV show problem that doesn't really happen to anyone. I was the only girl in the whole class who didn't get invited to a party. It didn't turn otu to be an accident like it does on TV, either. The girls throwing the party made sure I knew they'd invited "Everyone. Even Corey and Karen. Just not the losers." They looked right at me when they said that. Evil girls. i still don't know why they hated me like that.
When high school came, things actually got worse. My middle school combines with other middle schools to make high school, and I came from a small class. I didn't know anyone in most of my classes, save one guy from church who was actually pretty nice at school (didn't talk to me much at church before that). I did eventually meet some friends, and I'm even still friends with a cuople of them now. So it wasn't all bad. The worst blow was when we left the church we went to. The youth group there had been pretty terrible but i did have some friends, and I did have a place there. When we left, my close friend Adam got mad about it. we argued one day, and then he never talked to me again. For a few months, it seemed like I just didn't have anyone to be friends with.
stasia wasn't in my life. Bethany went to the church we'd just left and was laying low (she came around, though, and I'm so glad). I didn't know anyone at school very well. I didn't connect with anyone. Thank God for the internet because one great friend got me through. I've talked about Brian before though. Also, my older brother is pretty awesome and let me tag along when he did stuff with his friends, so I at least had stuff to do even if I was just a tag along.
This is turning into a pretty long post, which I didn't mean to have happen. I just wanted to lay the foundation for what I've been thinking about adult friendships. This obviously has nothing to do with adult friendships. I'll get there, promise. Not in this post.
Anyway, all of the history is just to share the loneliness. I suppose everyone feels like no one knows them at some point. And there were bright spots in my aloneness. There was Josh who played French horn with me and shared homework answers. He was alawys really nice to me. And Jonathan and Aaron in forth grade. But they played football at recess and I didn't like playing football. They drew pictures in class, and I liked that part. It's not like no one talked to me. and usually they even did so respectfully. They just didn't invite me out on weekends. But, because of the invisible thing and trying so hard to not get made fun of and protecting myself, I just built a giant wall around my heart to keep anyone from knowing me. I didn't want anyone to have any ammunition to hurt me with. Including my family. No one knew me, no one seemed to care enough to (except for Brian) and sadly, by the end of my freshman year, I was pretty satisfied to just have it stay that way.
To be continued.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Gadarean Monologue
I'm thinking about Easter, since it's just a couple of weeks away. Earlier today while my mind wandered, I thought about how Jesus' life on earth changed the status quo. How He could say just a few words and suddenly, life became a mystery again and the wonderful came into grasp. How many simple lives He changed forever, and how His choices ripple through mankind, even today, calling us, stirring up a longing for more.
Back in my days as a Younglife leader, we did a special thing for our Easter talk one year. All of us shared a monologue from the perspective of someone whose life was changed by Jesus. All of them pointed to different aspects of Jesus' character and life. I chose to talk about the man possessed by demons in the Gerasenes region. (Luke 8:23-39) (Mark 5:1-20)
I took a little creative license, but mostly it's taken right from that text. I wrote it with a spin to help relate to the teens in our group, but I thought I'd share it. Bear in mind it is copyrighted material and if you want to reproduce it you'd need my permission.
Gadarean Monologue
I’ll never forget the night Jesus came to the Gadarean tombs. I’d never seen him before, but the demons inside of me knew him well. Until he came, they controlled everything I did. All I could do was wander around up in the tombs and try to make it stop. People chased me out of the town because they were so afraid of what the demons would do. For a while, they’d lock me up with ropes, but pretty soon the demons made me strong enough to break them. Then they tried chains and I could break them too. They were stronger than me and stronger than anything I tried to do to stop them. I was delusional. So frustrated with everything I did. I wanted to change and be a good person. I wanted to live with my family and lead a normal life. But these demons…
They were stronger than me. Stronger than any other man.
Lately I’d taken to cutting at myself. I’m not sure why, but it made me feel better. I was just so guilty and tired and frustrated. Cutting made me feel human again. Cutting gave me control over the demons. For a while. But then I couldn’t stop. And I just stayed up in the tombs on the hills, crying. Screaming, hoping someone would save me. But knowing that there was no hope. No one short of God Himself could control the strength of the demons.
Until Jesus. There he was, coming across the lake. As soon as he got out of the boat, I ran to him. The demons tried to pull me away, but I ran. Then, they made it so I couldn’t talk and they started talking to Him. He was saying for them to leave me, but they fought inside of me, asking Him not to torture them, calling him the Son of God.
And he must have been the Son of God, because next thing I knew, the demons were gone. Well, not totally gone. They went into a herd of pigs. And now here I am, back to normal. No more crazy midnight screaming. No more running around in shame and anger. No more cutting. And I can’t stop thinking about Jesus. There was no one strong enough to stop those demons. There was no way to do it. And then there he was. And He did the impossible. With just a couple little words, they were gone. He saved me.
Back in my days as a Younglife leader, we did a special thing for our Easter talk one year. All of us shared a monologue from the perspective of someone whose life was changed by Jesus. All of them pointed to different aspects of Jesus' character and life. I chose to talk about the man possessed by demons in the Gerasenes region. (Luke 8:23-39) (Mark 5:1-20)
I took a little creative license, but mostly it's taken right from that text. I wrote it with a spin to help relate to the teens in our group, but I thought I'd share it. Bear in mind it is copyrighted material and if you want to reproduce it you'd need my permission.
Gadarean Monologue
I’ll never forget the night Jesus came to the Gadarean tombs. I’d never seen him before, but the demons inside of me knew him well. Until he came, they controlled everything I did. All I could do was wander around up in the tombs and try to make it stop. People chased me out of the town because they were so afraid of what the demons would do. For a while, they’d lock me up with ropes, but pretty soon the demons made me strong enough to break them. Then they tried chains and I could break them too. They were stronger than me and stronger than anything I tried to do to stop them. I was delusional. So frustrated with everything I did. I wanted to change and be a good person. I wanted to live with my family and lead a normal life. But these demons…
They were stronger than me. Stronger than any other man.
Lately I’d taken to cutting at myself. I’m not sure why, but it made me feel better. I was just so guilty and tired and frustrated. Cutting made me feel human again. Cutting gave me control over the demons. For a while. But then I couldn’t stop. And I just stayed up in the tombs on the hills, crying. Screaming, hoping someone would save me. But knowing that there was no hope. No one short of God Himself could control the strength of the demons.
Until Jesus. There he was, coming across the lake. As soon as he got out of the boat, I ran to him. The demons tried to pull me away, but I ran. Then, they made it so I couldn’t talk and they started talking to Him. He was saying for them to leave me, but they fought inside of me, asking Him not to torture them, calling him the Son of God.
And he must have been the Son of God, because next thing I knew, the demons were gone. Well, not totally gone. They went into a herd of pigs. And now here I am, back to normal. No more crazy midnight screaming. No more running around in shame and anger. No more cutting. And I can’t stop thinking about Jesus. There was no one strong enough to stop those demons. There was no way to do it. And then there he was. And He did the impossible. With just a couple little words, they were gone. He saved me.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Women of Faith
Last weekend, I drove to Des Moines with a friend and attended the Women of Faith conference. I had a good time hanging out with Marie and enjoyed the conference too. I'd been one other time and hadn't really liked it, but this time I felt like God wanted me to go. I got a good deal on tickets, and a musician I really respect was supposed to be there (he didn't come which really disappointed me). It was good, anyway. I got to see Nicole C. Mullin with her teenage dance team. Also Mendisa who is freaking amazing. That girl can sing. And I was impressed with what she had to say too. I bought her CD and if you know me at all, you're probably laughing because I don't really like hip-hop at all. But she sang a song I really liked to a friend of hers who had lost her baby. So yeah.
Sandy Patti also talked and sang. I guess that was a privilidge, but I'm just not a big fan of that kind of music. She has a great voice.
We listened to different speakers talk about faith and God and what it's got to do with day-to-day life. I'll just share a few highlights of what was said, in case you're interested:
Andy Andrews: Become successful by asking good questions. Bad question="Is this wrong?" Good question = Is this a wise decision?
A mistake requires an apology. A decision requires forgiveness.
Everything you do really matters. (I'd give his proof of that, but it would take too long).
LIsa Whelchel: She talked about good friendships and learning how to share life and connect as an adult. There is a diference between being transparent and being vulnerable.
Sandy Patti: Sometimes when we think God is saying no to your dream, he isn't. He's just saying yes to the dream He has for you.
Patsy Clairmont: God's principles will deepen your desire and ability to follow Him, and as you live them out, your ability to find those principles and apply them to your life will grow.
People matter. You don't know what you do that might affect someone, but everything you do matters.
If you have a girl, you give her a tiara and a tu-tu. If you have a boy, you give him a puppy and a sailor's suit.
Well. That's about all I guess. I recommend the conference if you ever have a chance to go. You wouldn't regret it.
Sandy Patti also talked and sang. I guess that was a privilidge, but I'm just not a big fan of that kind of music. She has a great voice.
We listened to different speakers talk about faith and God and what it's got to do with day-to-day life. I'll just share a few highlights of what was said, in case you're interested:
Andy Andrews: Become successful by asking good questions. Bad question="Is this wrong?" Good question = Is this a wise decision?
A mistake requires an apology. A decision requires forgiveness.
Everything you do really matters. (I'd give his proof of that, but it would take too long).
LIsa Whelchel: She talked about good friendships and learning how to share life and connect as an adult. There is a diference between being transparent and being vulnerable.
Sandy Patti: Sometimes when we think God is saying no to your dream, he isn't. He's just saying yes to the dream He has for you.
Patsy Clairmont: God's principles will deepen your desire and ability to follow Him, and as you live them out, your ability to find those principles and apply them to your life will grow.
People matter. You don't know what you do that might affect someone, but everything you do matters.
If you have a girl, you give her a tiara and a tu-tu. If you have a boy, you give him a puppy and a sailor's suit.
Well. That's about all I guess. I recommend the conference if you ever have a chance to go. You wouldn't regret it.
Monday, March 08, 2010
Why I Blog
In ninth grade, I met a Bible college student in a chat room. We eventually started emailing each other and became really good friends. For a while I felt like he was my only friend (perhaps unhealthy, but it got me through). If you know me well, you've heard me talk about Brian and the impact he had on my life. We eventually met in real life and stayed in contact. When he got engaged I started emailing his wife too, and it's been pretty cool to stay in touch through the years. In some ways, I still feel like Brian knows me better than most of my friends.
I don't hang out in chat rooms anymore (RIP Yackety Chat) and haven't for years. I stopped doing IM chat too because I hate how long it takes to have a conversation and I don't have a lot of spare time to sit at the computer anymore these days. I don't randomly facebook request people just so I can get to know them. I'm a housewife with a husband and kids and friends and I don't feel like I need to. My life is nice and stable.
But I've recently met a new friend in cyberspace. She's really cool and insightful and talented at writing (among other things). She has an interesting life, and I met her through blogging. It's kind of neat. We read each others' blogs and comment on them. She reminds me of friends I had in high school who don't talk to me anymore, and I like the openness there is in meeting a stranger and not having to put up pretenses because it really can't hurt you to be yourself when the other person can't even see your face.
A few years ago, I met another lady because of my blog too. She found me because she'd been researching my blood clotting factors and stillbirths. She'd lost a baby around the same time as me, and we started emailing. I love having another Factor V Leiden friend.
What can I say? I like meeting people over the interenet. I don't go out of my way to do it anymore, but if something falls in my lap, I'm pretty happy to pursue it (within reason). Technology is a fabulous thing when we use it to build each other up and encourage our lives.
That's not actually the primary reason I blog, but I do find it to be a very enjoyable side effect. Two other reasons I blog:
Stay in touch with people I don't get to see often. Well, at least they are in touch with my life. I get to check up on friends who are serving God in other countries, which is probably the best way for me to keep updated with them.
Hone writing skills I used to journal all the time. I'd fill notebooks and those leather-bound diaries that look awesome at Barnes and Nobel. Unfortunately, time and not having a desk space of my own have diminished that. (In fact, I shouldn't actually be doing this right now). I heard that Earnest Hemmingway (not positive it was him but some famous writer) taught a class, and he'd have his students spend the whole hour writing. He'd suggest doing it every day because, in some ways, it is a skill that can be practiced and built. I'm sort of out of creative juices lately, but blogging is a good way for me to practice articulating my thoughts without any pressure of deadlines or whatever.
Encouragement to others I always hope someone who needs to read something I've written will stumble upon this page and be uplifted. I don't know how often that happens, but I think it does. I think that's why I've met the couple of gals that I have. It's not that I think I have a lot to share that's deep or meaningful or useful. But sometimes even lame things can become relevant to someone's life.
Well, that's enough talking now. I have to catch up on my Bible studies. Back to real life.
I don't hang out in chat rooms anymore (RIP Yackety Chat) and haven't for years. I stopped doing IM chat too because I hate how long it takes to have a conversation and I don't have a lot of spare time to sit at the computer anymore these days. I don't randomly facebook request people just so I can get to know them. I'm a housewife with a husband and kids and friends and I don't feel like I need to. My life is nice and stable.
But I've recently met a new friend in cyberspace. She's really cool and insightful and talented at writing (among other things). She has an interesting life, and I met her through blogging. It's kind of neat. We read each others' blogs and comment on them. She reminds me of friends I had in high school who don't talk to me anymore, and I like the openness there is in meeting a stranger and not having to put up pretenses because it really can't hurt you to be yourself when the other person can't even see your face.
A few years ago, I met another lady because of my blog too. She found me because she'd been researching my blood clotting factors and stillbirths. She'd lost a baby around the same time as me, and we started emailing. I love having another Factor V Leiden friend.
What can I say? I like meeting people over the interenet. I don't go out of my way to do it anymore, but if something falls in my lap, I'm pretty happy to pursue it (within reason). Technology is a fabulous thing when we use it to build each other up and encourage our lives.
That's not actually the primary reason I blog, but I do find it to be a very enjoyable side effect. Two other reasons I blog:
Stay in touch with people I don't get to see often. Well, at least they are in touch with my life. I get to check up on friends who are serving God in other countries, which is probably the best way for me to keep updated with them.
Hone writing skills I used to journal all the time. I'd fill notebooks and those leather-bound diaries that look awesome at Barnes and Nobel. Unfortunately, time and not having a desk space of my own have diminished that. (In fact, I shouldn't actually be doing this right now). I heard that Earnest Hemmingway (not positive it was him but some famous writer) taught a class, and he'd have his students spend the whole hour writing. He'd suggest doing it every day because, in some ways, it is a skill that can be practiced and built. I'm sort of out of creative juices lately, but blogging is a good way for me to practice articulating my thoughts without any pressure of deadlines or whatever.
Encouragement to others I always hope someone who needs to read something I've written will stumble upon this page and be uplifted. I don't know how often that happens, but I think it does. I think that's why I've met the couple of gals that I have. It's not that I think I have a lot to share that's deep or meaningful or useful. But sometimes even lame things can become relevant to someone's life.
Well, that's enough talking now. I have to catch up on my Bible studies. Back to real life.
Monday, March 01, 2010
Driving the Psalms
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. Psalm 119:105
A couple weeks ago, I went down to visit my sister in Tennessee. I enjoyed beautiful weather and great hiking and good company of college kids. I had a really great time.
Driving home, I hit a little snag called a snow storm. What a rude awakening from the lovely weekend. It felt like life was saying, "Welcome back to reality".
The snowstorm made for terrible driving conditions. terrible. Some of the worst roads I'd seen in my whole life. I clutched the steering wheel, white-knuckled for most of the way home, barely able to see ten feet in front of me. Waiting for a plow or a sand truck, but not finding one. Being passed by people not smart enough to know the danger(or with better tires than mine).
Fresh in my mind was something the director of a play we saw while in Tennessee had said: "I see life as us waking up in a dark room, and in the distance, there's a door and there's light pouring out from the door, and a hand reaching for us. The hand is God, and when we choose to grab on to it, the rest of our life is us moving closer to that light."
That was a paraphrase, but I liked what he said. So, as I drove, I thought about God being light and how badly I needed light at that time. How those headlights, even on high beams, were barely enough to get me through. But the light was there, leading me on. Behind me, darkness and slick furrowed roads. Ahead, light, and the hope of Iowa, where they actually know how to treat/plow the highways.
Just like walking in life. I press forward with the Light ahead of me, surrounded by darkness on a treacherous path. Without the Light, surely I would lose my way. Surely I would die in a ditch, unnoticed by the rest of the world. Behind me, darkness. Ahead, the hope of Glory. The light of day. Clinging to that hand of God tighter every time I stumble. Closer to the light each time.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
the Portion of My Inheritance
In my small gruop we're reading a book called "Becoming a Woman of Prayer" by Cynthia Heald. So far it's been good. It's motivation to pray more and increase the effectiveness of my prayer life. Last week one of the things she talked about was praying using God's word. I've heard about it before, but she shared how she would usually find a verse that applied to her life and commit to praying it throughout the year. I liked that idea, so my friends and I decided to find verses for ourselves to memorize and pray and apply to our lives.
I hadn't found anything like I expected to happen. Me and God are on fairly whimsical terms usually, and I was hoping it would lay down in my lap like happens sometimes, but it didn't. So today i went looking. I went to Proverbs and thought I'd check the day of the month. It's the seventeenth, but Proverbs 17 wasn't really weighty or meaningful. Then I went to Psalm 17 thinking what the heck. While Iw as reading it, I realized it's actually only the 16th. Feeling like that meant something, I read Psalm 16. what do you know. It was there.
You O Lord are the porition of my inheritance and my cup; You maintain my lot. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; Yes, I have a good ineheritance. I will bless the Lord who has given me counsel; my heart also instructs me in the night seasons. I have set the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.
Therefore my heart is glad and my glory rejoices; My flesh also will rest in hope. For you will not leave my soul in Sheol, norw ill you allow your holy one to see corruption. You will show me the path of life. In your presence is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures evermore.
What a great passage to keep my heart focused on heaven and God. There are so many things to pray for myself and others in this verse. I love how it is full of gratitude and hope, things that I often need more of.
I could elaborate on how fitting this whole thing is for me right now, but I won't. I just like it. I have found myself so content in Christ this year, so full of peace. The first verses I wrote there express my gratitude so well. I have a good inheritance.
Maybe you can join this challenge with me. Find a verse that you want to pray for yourself this year and share it. I'll pray for you also. we might be surprised at what God does.
I hadn't found anything like I expected to happen. Me and God are on fairly whimsical terms usually, and I was hoping it would lay down in my lap like happens sometimes, but it didn't. So today i went looking. I went to Proverbs and thought I'd check the day of the month. It's the seventeenth, but Proverbs 17 wasn't really weighty or meaningful. Then I went to Psalm 17 thinking what the heck. While Iw as reading it, I realized it's actually only the 16th. Feeling like that meant something, I read Psalm 16. what do you know. It was there.
You O Lord are the porition of my inheritance and my cup; You maintain my lot. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; Yes, I have a good ineheritance. I will bless the Lord who has given me counsel; my heart also instructs me in the night seasons. I have set the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.
Therefore my heart is glad and my glory rejoices; My flesh also will rest in hope. For you will not leave my soul in Sheol, norw ill you allow your holy one to see corruption. You will show me the path of life. In your presence is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures evermore.
What a great passage to keep my heart focused on heaven and God. There are so many things to pray for myself and others in this verse. I love how it is full of gratitude and hope, things that I often need more of.
I could elaborate on how fitting this whole thing is for me right now, but I won't. I just like it. I have found myself so content in Christ this year, so full of peace. The first verses I wrote there express my gratitude so well. I have a good inheritance.
Maybe you can join this challenge with me. Find a verse that you want to pray for yourself this year and share it. I'll pray for you also. we might be surprised at what God does.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Back to the Bat
Anyway, looking back has been fun, remembering all of my craziness and depth and struggles. But, one theme is unavoidable. Batman.
I've written about why I love him so much before. If you know me long, you know, I just love Batman. It's inexplicable. I'd forgotten until I looked through my emails how much I used to identify things from my life. In high school, my best friend Twan was Robin and I, of course, was Batman. We usually bought each other action figures of our characters. I acquired a most awesome shirt which I still wear, along with various other Bat-belia.
In college, we called our room the batcave and made a creative phone message to identify ourselves as such. Naomi was Alfred, Kathrine was Robin, and I, of course, as always, was Batman. I think that all started when, one night, I wrapped myself up in a black blanket and climbed around the bunks bed and dressers, singing the theme song from the animated series. I used to be really awesome. I think Naomi and Katherine worried from that moment on.
I used to call my house the bat-cave. Whatever apartment we lived in was a new bat-cave. When I had a sweet black car (RIP Merkur XR4TI) I referred to it as my bat-mobile.
I'm going to start infiltrating our lifestyle with Batman titles and names. This house is officially the Bat Cave once again. (Don't let the pink clothes, pastel curtians, and cheerfully colored baby toys fool you!) I'll also be taking suggestions for hero avatars for my children. Everyone in this family needs to identify themselves as someone from a comic book. (In case you're wondering, Daniel is Superman).
BTW, i found this site while searching for images and thought it was amusing.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
The Woj
so today, because I was wearing slippers without socks, my mind wandered back to high school and through some strange rabbit trails. I'm going to share them with you because I think they're funny.
You know the band Leonard Skinnerd? They named themselves after a teacher in their high school who was notorious for enforcing the "no long hair" policy in the 70's (note: I do not listen to Leonard SKinnerd and I am not a fan, except for their name). I think it's hilarious that they did that. I've always thought about what high school teacher I'd name a band after if I were in their position.
There was Bernhard, famous for yelling at us, "If you put your head down and fall asleep in my class, it's like saying 'Screw YOU Mrs. Bernhard! I have my own agenda!" I think that quote was directed at me, even though I actually wasn't asleep as she supposed. So the agenda came from that, and me and my friends started a list of things to put on our agenda, which included spreading sparkle-butt-syndrome, starting an Amish college with a Peaceful Amish farmer mascot, and various other ridiculously unrealistic things.
There was also Kriegal. She filled in for our english teacher sophomore year. She had us do trust falls in our speech class. Enough said. (Frizzy eighties hair, pink eye shadow, too relational, thought my friend Kim was a druggie.)
My favorite character out of high school, though, who would definitely be first choice for a band name (of course, behind "my own agenda") is The Woj. I mean, his name was actually Wojotowitz, (wa-toe-its), but for obvious reasons, we called him The Woj. And wouldn't that be a good band name? He was one of those emotional teachers who wanted everyone to talk about their feelings and tell stories about their lives in class. It was AP English, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been able to pass any test with the information I acquired (or rather, didn't) that year. (Granted, I did spend about half of it out studying for academic decathlon with the rest of my team). i was privileged enough to have him as the coach for Academic Decathlon that year. It was because I was in his class that he asked me on the team, anyway. It was fun. But he was weird. Not gonna lie. He was a diabetic smoker who I think was a little on the hypochondriac side as well. He hung out at a bar called Leonardo's down the road, and there was a rumor that he was gay. I never made a conclusion either way, and didn't care either (although he did have the lisp and he liked to hold his ssssses out a little longer than necessary).
I once spent a half hour in his hotel room practicing my speech for ac-dec. I think he smoked three packs of cigs in that time. Wojo always scratched the chalkboard by accident when he tried to write stuff, and he started most classes off with making us write in journals about things and discussing it in class. There were a few funny moments from class, but I won't mention them for time sake. If you're really excited to hear those stories, you could just email me or something.
My brother said he was really talented with theater things. He was in charge of all of the smart kids at school and assemblies and national honor society. He was also one of the counselors. He once got me into an art class without having taken the prerequisite because he had the power to, and he wanted me to not have biology homework so I could study for ac-dec more. Because he was cool like that.
He also wore sandals year-round, even though he had somewhat gross-looking toes. Which is what brought on this whole stream-of-conscious that you are now reading. Because it started with me wearing no socks in my loafers. Which he also did.
I don't know if he's still at my high school. I think he is, still coaching ac-dec too (and, for the record, the year I participated was the first time in 10 years that we didn't make it to nationals... But it wasn't my fault, promise). The thing is, I liked him. He was personable and sarcastic, and I think he actually knew how smart I was, which didn't happen too often. He seemed to know me pretty well, even though I never offered any information about myself and I wasn't the kind of kid the teachers sat around in the lounge talking about. So that's why I'd name my band "The Woj". Because, eccentricities aside, he was a pretty good teacher (unlike the aforementioned ones).
Hopefully no one does a google search for any of these names! I might get myself in trouble. :)
You know the band Leonard Skinnerd? They named themselves after a teacher in their high school who was notorious for enforcing the "no long hair" policy in the 70's (note: I do not listen to Leonard SKinnerd and I am not a fan, except for their name). I think it's hilarious that they did that. I've always thought about what high school teacher I'd name a band after if I were in their position.
There was Bernhard, famous for yelling at us, "If you put your head down and fall asleep in my class, it's like saying 'Screw YOU Mrs. Bernhard! I have my own agenda!" I think that quote was directed at me, even though I actually wasn't asleep as she supposed. So the agenda came from that, and me and my friends started a list of things to put on our agenda, which included spreading sparkle-butt-syndrome, starting an Amish college with a Peaceful Amish farmer mascot, and various other ridiculously unrealistic things.
There was also Kriegal. She filled in for our english teacher sophomore year. She had us do trust falls in our speech class. Enough said. (Frizzy eighties hair, pink eye shadow, too relational, thought my friend Kim was a druggie.)
My favorite character out of high school, though, who would definitely be first choice for a band name (of course, behind "my own agenda") is The Woj. I mean, his name was actually Wojotowitz, (wa-toe-its), but for obvious reasons, we called him The Woj. And wouldn't that be a good band name? He was one of those emotional teachers who wanted everyone to talk about their feelings and tell stories about their lives in class. It was AP English, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been able to pass any test with the information I acquired (or rather, didn't) that year. (Granted, I did spend about half of it out studying for academic decathlon with the rest of my team). i was privileged enough to have him as the coach for Academic Decathlon that year. It was because I was in his class that he asked me on the team, anyway. It was fun. But he was weird. Not gonna lie. He was a diabetic smoker who I think was a little on the hypochondriac side as well. He hung out at a bar called Leonardo's down the road, and there was a rumor that he was gay. I never made a conclusion either way, and didn't care either (although he did have the lisp and he liked to hold his ssssses out a little longer than necessary).
I once spent a half hour in his hotel room practicing my speech for ac-dec. I think he smoked three packs of cigs in that time. Wojo always scratched the chalkboard by accident when he tried to write stuff, and he started most classes off with making us write in journals about things and discussing it in class. There were a few funny moments from class, but I won't mention them for time sake. If you're really excited to hear those stories, you could just email me or something.
My brother said he was really talented with theater things. He was in charge of all of the smart kids at school and assemblies and national honor society. He was also one of the counselors. He once got me into an art class without having taken the prerequisite because he had the power to, and he wanted me to not have biology homework so I could study for ac-dec more. Because he was cool like that.
He also wore sandals year-round, even though he had somewhat gross-looking toes. Which is what brought on this whole stream-of-conscious that you are now reading. Because it started with me wearing no socks in my loafers. Which he also did.
I don't know if he's still at my high school. I think he is, still coaching ac-dec too (and, for the record, the year I participated was the first time in 10 years that we didn't make it to nationals... But it wasn't my fault, promise). The thing is, I liked him. He was personable and sarcastic, and I think he actually knew how smart I was, which didn't happen too often. He seemed to know me pretty well, even though I never offered any information about myself and I wasn't the kind of kid the teachers sat around in the lounge talking about. So that's why I'd name my band "The Woj". Because, eccentricities aside, he was a pretty good teacher (unlike the aforementioned ones).
Hopefully no one does a google search for any of these names! I might get myself in trouble. :)
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Joy and Sorrow
"Joy and sorrow are this ocean/and in their every ebb and flow/now the Lord a door has opened/that all hell could never close/here I'm tested and made worthy/tossed about/lifted up/in the reckless raging fury that they call the love of God" ~ Rich Mullins "The Love of God"
Thursday is Jayna's first birthday. Friday will be Grace's 2nd birthday. I'm not sure you call it a birthday, but I guess I will for the sake of no better word. I love that this is the case, and I hate it all at once. I'm glad the happy milestone comes before the sad one. In a way, it helps me remember the sad one more. It always brings forth such a slew of emotions. Unexpected ones.
The mind is magical almost, in how it lives in cycles and recalls things subconsciously. Before I even realized how close the anniversary of Grace's death was, I sat in the car one night mulling it over, remembering that day so vividly. Then I realized that her birthday was two weeks away. I missed her some, thinking about what life would be like right now if things had gone according to the plan (lower case P).
Then I thought about what kind of cake I needed to make for Jayna and how to celebrate her birthday. And I thanked God for the joy and sorrow that tangle together so hopelessly, that there is absolutely no way I can remove one from the other. Without Grace, there would be no Jayna. Without Jayna, there would be a resounding hollowness. I think that's why I relate with the way Rich described God's love. Reckless and raging fury. It's inescapable when you know Him. It burns in your heart and holds you when you cry. It reminds you of the good and the bad. It fills you with joy, even on cold days when the sun won't shine. It redeems and recaptures and drags you along through every moment, holding on tighter than you ever could.
How strange it is when the Lord chooses to redeem a tragedy, rolling over the sorrow with a new joy. How beautiful, and how mysterious. How wonderful.
Thursday is Jayna's first birthday. Friday will be Grace's 2nd birthday. I'm not sure you call it a birthday, but I guess I will for the sake of no better word. I love that this is the case, and I hate it all at once. I'm glad the happy milestone comes before the sad one. In a way, it helps me remember the sad one more. It always brings forth such a slew of emotions. Unexpected ones.
The mind is magical almost, in how it lives in cycles and recalls things subconsciously. Before I even realized how close the anniversary of Grace's death was, I sat in the car one night mulling it over, remembering that day so vividly. Then I realized that her birthday was two weeks away. I missed her some, thinking about what life would be like right now if things had gone according to the plan (lower case P).
Then I thought about what kind of cake I needed to make for Jayna and how to celebrate her birthday. And I thanked God for the joy and sorrow that tangle together so hopelessly, that there is absolutely no way I can remove one from the other. Without Grace, there would be no Jayna. Without Jayna, there would be a resounding hollowness. I think that's why I relate with the way Rich described God's love. Reckless and raging fury. It's inescapable when you know Him. It burns in your heart and holds you when you cry. It reminds you of the good and the bad. It fills you with joy, even on cold days when the sun won't shine. It redeems and recaptures and drags you along through every moment, holding on tighter than you ever could.
How strange it is when the Lord chooses to redeem a tragedy, rolling over the sorrow with a new joy. How beautiful, and how mysterious. How wonderful.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
The Evolution of Photos
Over Christmas break, my mom and my sister went through the giant tote full of old pictures and tried to sort them out. The first step was throwing away old pictures that they no longer cared about/duplicates/unnneeded ones. Then they made piles of whose were whose. I helped them one of the days, and had a really fun time looking at my past. I was a skinny little round-faced girl with stringy blond hair who wore tee-shirts that didn't fit and old blue jeans most of the time. We had a dog named Barney and an awesome goat named Princess.
The pictures from my teenage years are less than attractive. I had curly hair and big glasses (which, by the way, were just as stylish as anyone's). A lot of the early high school ones are with my friend Bethany (Who, I was told looked like my sister). Later high school ones are with Daniel.
This week I decided to update some of my frames around the house. I went through some a lot of photos to select the right ones (and, the never ending process still isn't complete). It's funny how the last five years have changed so much. First, we had fun pictures from our college/high school years hanging. There were a lot of pictures of friends and fun events.
Then, it turned into a lot of wedding photos from friends' weddings. Now, we're upgrading to baby photos.
Sometimes I wish I could just pick out a picture and do the Mary Poppins thing and just jump inside and resume life from there. i wish I could go back to dancing with my dog barney while I wait for the bus, or dressing up in stupid costumes with the neighbor kids, or marching band, or awesome college hang outs. It would be fun. But I think at some point, I'll look at the pictures from today and think the same thing. "Oh, remember when our kids were all little and we did this?" I hope that i cherish these times when I'm older. I also hope they go by soon. Maybe that's part of being an eternal being trapped in a finite body within time. Maybe that's why I can't wait for heaven.
One of my very favorite songs is called "Old Clothes" by randy Stonehill. I sing it to myself pretty often, especially when I travel down memory lane with keepsakes and pictures.
Toys from my childhood
old photographs
left in this dusty old suitcase
things we once cherished
are lost with the past
Seek out the treasure that always will last
So I'm packing up my old clothes
with my old and foolish ways
they just don't seem to fit me
anymore
I see the light of morning
with different eyes today
and I'm giving my tomorrows to the Lord
So many heroes
who never came through
too many roads going nowhere
Jesus was whispering
I still love you.
With a love that makes
all things new.
So I'm packing up my old clothes
with my old and foolish ways
they just don't seem to fit me
anymore
I see the light of Jesus
with different eyes today
and I'm giving my tomorrows to the Lord
This week I decided to update some of my frames around the house. I went through some a lot of photos to select the right ones (and, the never ending process still isn't complete). It's funny how the last five years have changed so much. First, we had fun pictures from our college/high school years hanging. There were a lot of pictures of friends and fun events.
Then, it turned into a lot of wedding photos from friends' weddings. Now, we're upgrading to baby photos.
Sometimes I wish I could just pick out a picture and do the Mary Poppins thing and just jump inside and resume life from there. i wish I could go back to dancing with my dog barney while I wait for the bus, or dressing up in stupid costumes with the neighbor kids, or marching band, or awesome college hang outs. It would be fun. But I think at some point, I'll look at the pictures from today and think the same thing. "Oh, remember when our kids were all little and we did this?" I hope that i cherish these times when I'm older. I also hope they go by soon. Maybe that's part of being an eternal being trapped in a finite body within time. Maybe that's why I can't wait for heaven.
One of my very favorite songs is called "Old Clothes" by randy Stonehill. I sing it to myself pretty often, especially when I travel down memory lane with keepsakes and pictures.
Toys from my childhood
old photographs
left in this dusty old suitcase
things we once cherished
are lost with the past
Seek out the treasure that always will last
So I'm packing up my old clothes
with my old and foolish ways
they just don't seem to fit me
anymore
I see the light of morning
with different eyes today
and I'm giving my tomorrows to the Lord
So many heroes
who never came through
too many roads going nowhere
Jesus was whispering
I still love you.
With a love that makes
all things new.
So I'm packing up my old clothes
with my old and foolish ways
they just don't seem to fit me
anymore
I see the light of Jesus
with different eyes today
and I'm giving my tomorrows to the Lord
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