Tomorrow is my last final for the fall semester. That is exciting, right?! Well yes, and no. That also means that the next finals I take will be in Spain (and yes, I will blog from Spain). God and I have been having an interesting time lately. He has been pushing me toward ideas that I never would have ever given second thought to. The latest one of these, and one that I tossed at my Mom today was the thought that God may want me to live in a foreign country for some time- and maybe more than the next semester. Ever since I was little I have had this insane passion for Spanish language and culture. My parents jokingly called me the "South American Queen" when I memorized all of the countries and capitals in South America as a 7 year old. So, this passion is well-entrenched. I was listening to a song by Sara Bareilles today (I do my best thinking listening to music) and I felt engulfed in the words. She is not a Christian singer, but check out these lyrics to her song "Many the Miles"--she sings:
"Red letter day and I'm in a blue mood
Wishing that blue would just carry me away
I've been talking to God
don't knowIf it's helping or not
But surely something has got to got to got to give
Cause i can't keep waiting to live.
How far do I have to go to get to you?
Many the miles. Send me the miles
and I'll be happy to follow you love"
This really challenged me to accept whatever plans that He has for me because I should know that whatever He has in store for me is greater than anything I could ever imagine. If this means leaving my family and loved ones behind to pursue a calling in a foreign land (how very Biblical, no?) then I should trust and obey and be "happy to follow You Love".
It's awesome how God can use a totally unrelated thing to get my attention.
I love his lack of subtelty sometimes :)
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
The Vacuum God
Today I was vacuuming my [teeny] dorm room and I was thinking about our Christian lives in relation to a vacuum. (the cleaning kind, not the black hole kind). The vacuum that we have in our room is so small it's more like a mechanized dust pan. It barely does the job, and I find myself picking up leaves well after I am done cleaning, or going over the same spot multiple times, only to find the same cluster of dirt in that spot ten minutes later.
It seems to me that even those Christians who are doing their very best to do what God asks of them, and esentially "clean up" the mess that is their human life, we consistenly have to go back to pick up that same leaf that never wants to leave (no pun intended ;)) In this dorm room that represents my whole world, God is my industrial-strength vacuum. What I spend my entire life toiling over to change, He takes one run over it with His vacuum and it is gone. It made me stop and think how foolish I am for thinking that by my own will or desire I can change things within myself that, if I am totally honest, will never change if I don't turn them TOTALLY over to God and allow His grace to change me and shape me.
How much simpler cleaning my life would be if I just let God do it for me :).
It seems to me that even those Christians who are doing their very best to do what God asks of them, and esentially "clean up" the mess that is their human life, we consistenly have to go back to pick up that same leaf that never wants to leave (no pun intended ;)) In this dorm room that represents my whole world, God is my industrial-strength vacuum. What I spend my entire life toiling over to change, He takes one run over it with His vacuum and it is gone. It made me stop and think how foolish I am for thinking that by my own will or desire I can change things within myself that, if I am totally honest, will never change if I don't turn them TOTALLY over to God and allow His grace to change me and shape me.
How much simpler cleaning my life would be if I just let God do it for me :).
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Hope Dawns
I sit in the stillness of a new dawn.
The thoughts on the horizon glisten in the quietness that surrounds them.
Hope pours from the sky in rays of light
that break through even the darkest cloud.
The creatures of nature sing their songs, encouraging the smile to rise over the trees.
In this moment I am free from myself.
A strong wind breathes around me,
and my spirit returns to life.
The thoughts on the horizon glisten in the quietness that surrounds them.
Hope pours from the sky in rays of light
that break through even the darkest cloud.
The creatures of nature sing their songs, encouraging the smile to rise over the trees.
In this moment I am free from myself.
A strong wind breathes around me,
and my spirit returns to life.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Winding Roads
I drove for miles and miles and I don’t know what to say
Beauty on the outside, inside more confused than today.
Sunday morning and still I’m calling
Foolishness, deliver me from yet another play.
Open up your blue eyes, read the writing in the clear skies,
Close them now, be still, and remember long-lost lies.
Keep yourself in tact, yet another day free-falling
Into the world where at least someone tries.
I never let it get this far, somehow my heart let you in too far.
I can’t loose my grip on hope or get myself out of this car.
Onto the floor, all our pictures I’m sprawling
Scared and not knowing who or what we are.
Beauty on the outside, inside more confused than today.
Sunday morning and still I’m calling
Foolishness, deliver me from yet another play.
Open up your blue eyes, read the writing in the clear skies,
Close them now, be still, and remember long-lost lies.
Keep yourself in tact, yet another day free-falling
Into the world where at least someone tries.
I never let it get this far, somehow my heart let you in too far.
I can’t loose my grip on hope or get myself out of this car.
Onto the floor, all our pictures I’m sprawling
Scared and not knowing who or what we are.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Raw
So, I have been sitting here for roughly 40 minutes picking and choosing a piece to put on here, yet none of them seem "finished" or "appropriate". Again, I refer you to my first entry- anyone see a fear of failure or judgment in not finding a piece suitable to post? Anyways, I found this one that was written during a time of pretty raw emotion. Actually, let's not sugarcoat it- I was downright depressed when I wrote this. So I decided there is probably no better way to overcome this fear than to put a very personal piece on here. But I think there are some redeeming qualities, so hopefully it won't be too much of a Debbie Downer :). This selection is in reference to the experience of facing my own self-centeredness. Ironic, right?
There it was. That great ache in my body that penetrated deep down into my bones. It was a kind of pseudo-depression that threatened to break free with even the slightest prompting. I liken it to what I hear women who are pregnant experience; when you feel the urge to cry for no specific reason and not sure if you can handle any external negativity. My eyes felt heavy and confused, my mind cloudy and unsure. Even the length of my stride seemed to shorten in fear that it might get ahead of itself. But He was there, in that overwhelming, ‘I-can’t-deal-with-you-now’, kind of presence. The last thing I felt I needed was some perfectly Supreme being lording his righteousness over me. After a while, I realized that she was there too. It had been a while since I had seen her, but across the room, in a murky shadow by the window, she sat with her back to me. And then I knew that it would be a while..
It would have been wonderful to turn and run for the door; don’t think I didn’t try it. But there is only so far you can run when you know what the right thing is. So we sat and talked. First I talked to Him. I told him that I was afraid. No, I was petrified of being alone. And of being forgotten. Then the tears started. I didn’t even know why I was crying! But I was- giant, wet, full tears that seemed to get heavier and faster as I spoke. He asked me why, and I replied ‘because I’m a wreck’ somewhat sarcastically. Apparently she felt this was a good time to interject. In the overbearing way that came too naturally to her, she barged in to explain why I wasn’t a mess and why I had every right to do what I wanted, in the timing that I wanted. There was an anger in her voice that seemed so raw, but so scared at the same time. He listened patiently as she pleaded her case, and then turned his attention back to me. ‘Why do you fear being forgotten?’ he gently inquired. My response was slow and deliberate, if a bit shameful: ‘because I am proud, and I need to be the center of attention with a lot more people than I realize. I need to feel their validation by being their topic of conversation.’ And then it made a little more sense. How could a single wedding send me into such a tailspin? Because I would not be the focus of conversation among people whom I need to be validated by. Someone else might be seen as prettier than I am. Someone else may be perceived as more worthy of love from their boyfriend. Someone else would be sharing all of the wonderful things happening in their life that weren’t happening in mine. And someone else would be the center of attention. I suddenly felt sick. When did I get this self-absorbed when I thought I was making progress? Interrupting my thoughts was the shrill voice of an indignant girl: ‘It’s not your fault! You can’t help how you feel…it just is what it is. Stop caring so much about fixing it!’ I tried to be patient as He had been with her, but I couldn’t. I felt my own humility slipping away, and that deep, agonizing depression-anger taking its place.
There it was. That great ache in my body that penetrated deep down into my bones. It was a kind of pseudo-depression that threatened to break free with even the slightest prompting. I liken it to what I hear women who are pregnant experience; when you feel the urge to cry for no specific reason and not sure if you can handle any external negativity. My eyes felt heavy and confused, my mind cloudy and unsure. Even the length of my stride seemed to shorten in fear that it might get ahead of itself. But He was there, in that overwhelming, ‘I-can’t-deal-with-you-now’, kind of presence. The last thing I felt I needed was some perfectly Supreme being lording his righteousness over me. After a while, I realized that she was there too. It had been a while since I had seen her, but across the room, in a murky shadow by the window, she sat with her back to me. And then I knew that it would be a while..
It would have been wonderful to turn and run for the door; don’t think I didn’t try it. But there is only so far you can run when you know what the right thing is. So we sat and talked. First I talked to Him. I told him that I was afraid. No, I was petrified of being alone. And of being forgotten. Then the tears started. I didn’t even know why I was crying! But I was- giant, wet, full tears that seemed to get heavier and faster as I spoke. He asked me why, and I replied ‘because I’m a wreck’ somewhat sarcastically. Apparently she felt this was a good time to interject. In the overbearing way that came too naturally to her, she barged in to explain why I wasn’t a mess and why I had every right to do what I wanted, in the timing that I wanted. There was an anger in her voice that seemed so raw, but so scared at the same time. He listened patiently as she pleaded her case, and then turned his attention back to me. ‘Why do you fear being forgotten?’ he gently inquired. My response was slow and deliberate, if a bit shameful: ‘because I am proud, and I need to be the center of attention with a lot more people than I realize. I need to feel their validation by being their topic of conversation.’ And then it made a little more sense. How could a single wedding send me into such a tailspin? Because I would not be the focus of conversation among people whom I need to be validated by. Someone else might be seen as prettier than I am. Someone else may be perceived as more worthy of love from their boyfriend. Someone else would be sharing all of the wonderful things happening in their life that weren’t happening in mine. And someone else would be the center of attention. I suddenly felt sick. When did I get this self-absorbed when I thought I was making progress? Interrupting my thoughts was the shrill voice of an indignant girl: ‘It’s not your fault! You can’t help how you feel…it just is what it is. Stop caring so much about fixing it!’ I tried to be patient as He had been with her, but I couldn’t. I felt my own humility slipping away, and that deep, agonizing depression-anger taking its place.
Monday, October 20, 2008
A First Post
It's fall, and with the changing of leaves I figured it might be time to change that part of me that doesn't take risks for fear of failure and judgment. Ergo, the blog. You know those little inklings you get that The Big Guy wants you to do something, but you brush it off because you can rationalize it away? Well, I have been doing that in regard to doing anything further with my writing than just scribbling in a notebook. So here is the first step toward something with which I am not intimately familiar: obediance. Hope He likes it.
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