King of Glory, Have Your Glory

This post has great potential to lack fluidity, meaning that my thoughts might fail to be concise or related from one to the next, but I'm in the mood to write. So write, I shall.

In case you haven't yet heard, tomorrow is Easter. Those three words excite me because of two other phrases of three words: "It is Finished" and "He is Risen". I could just stop writing now. Nothing I could ever write will ever be as good or as powerful or as beautiful as the story behind Easter. Nothing can compare to the fact that the Son of God said that the reason He could not stay in the grave was for me. I like how Gandhi says it, "A man who was completely innocent, offered himself as a sacrifice for the good of others, including his enemies, and became the ransom of the world. It was a perfect act." It is, hands down, the greatest story to ever be told.

And from out of that story, comes many other stories. After all, Jesus was, and is, and is yet to come. Where He is, there's going to be great stories. Speaking of stories, I like to read them, or watch them, or hear them. I like thinking that everyday is just another page in my lifestory and that pages can be turned back and be turned forward (that's a whole different blog). I like stories.

But I am a terrible story-teller. I'm the girl who says with all the excitement in the world "I have to tell you this story" and then I start. And that's when you start asking yourself "what about this story had to be told?" You see, my problem is in the details. The problem being I don't remember them. I remember how whatever the story was made me feel, but I'm terrible at inviting the person I'm telling the story to into those feelings. Without the feelings and the ability to recall the details, my stories, needless to say, lack the luster of a story well told. This ladies and gentleman is why I never entered the story-telling contest in the fourth grade. I knew my limits.

But something that has been blowing my mind lately is the fact that God is a God who sees the end. He knows the last chapter of every story. He knows my story. He knows your story. He knows all the stories ever to be told because He is the author of each. But He doesn't just know the main events of the story- He knows every single detail. He doesn't just know the last chapter, He knows every line and punctuation mark that lead up to that chapter. He cares about every single detail. And no detail is too much for Him. (Excuse me, while, my heart has a party. It's my party and I'll cry if I want to...)

The best way that I can attempt to understand this is when I look at a picture of a person. I see the person and the moment captured. I can see whether they are smiling or not. Or if they were able to blow out all the candles on their birthday cake in the first breath. I can admire, or not admire, their clothing choices. I can pick up some of the details and I can fabricate the rest.

....Okay, just joking about the fabricating part. What I meant to say was that I am limited in my ability to grasp all the details. I see the picture in full, but I can't possibly know the full story behind the picture, or the moments that brought them to the picture. I can't know how many hairs are on their head or how many grains of sand that they are standing on (if the picture is at a beach of course), but my Jesus can and cares and does.

He's in the details. Nothing is too small or too big for Him. Seriously, who is like our God? The reason why I started thinking about this is the church I attend is having a huge Easter Celebration tomorrow that has required a lot of people to spend a lot of time thinking about the details. Last week, at Saturday Morning prayer, the pastor talked a little bit about those details. He gave the example that if we wanted to have a service with 10,000 people, how 10,000 pencils would be distributed to fill out offering envelopes or take notes would have to be considered. I'd say that's pretty detailed, but that could very likely just be me.

I know it may seem silly, but I haven't been able to get those pencils out of my mind. Because no one is going to see all that's going on tomorrow at the Easter service and be thinking "man, those pencils....", but God knows each hand those pencils are going to touch. He knows each stroke those pencils are going to write. It's a small detail, but it's a detail that leads to a greater story. Maybe those pencils will be used by someone to write down a prayer request that will lead to healing. Or to fill out an envelope that contains an offering to further advance the Kingdom of God. Maybe, just maybe, the pencil will be a utensil used as someone makes the decision that they are "coming home". And at the end of the day, no one is going to be thinking about the pencils. It's just a small detail that is easy to forget. But also at the end of the day, we can know that God was in each placement of those pencils. No detail is too small or mundane for Him.

King of Glory, have Your glory.

 

 

You've Got Stuck in a Moment that You Can't Get Out of

There's a verse in Psalms that says " You know me inside and out. You hold me together. You never fail to stand me tall in Your presence so I can look You in the eye" (Psalm 41:11-12).

I stinkin love that verse. It brings me to my knees every time I reflect on the fact that my Jesus knows me inside and out. He knows every depth of my heart. He knows the good. He knows the bad. He knows the fears, the secrets, the passions, the dreams. He knows it all and He loves me despite it all. And not only does He know every detail of my life, but He holds me together.

In my brokenness, He's a mender. In my hurting, He's a healer. In my changing circumstances, He is constant. In my weakness, He's my strength. And when everythings falling apart, He is the one holding it together. He never fails to stand me tall in His presence so I can look Him in the eye. He. Never. Fails.

Never failing is something that I know nothing about because my life is saturated with times that I have failed. When I reflect on those times, there is a reoccurring theme- I'm relying completely on my individual efforts and I'm failing to look to the One who never fails.

There was a moment this winter that I felt Jesus used as a gentle reminder to whisper to my heart to look to Him when I'm stuck. The irony being that I was literally stuck. As I was backing out of a driveway one of the few days it actually snowed this winter, I backed off the driveway and into the yard, where a friend and I then remained for the next two hours.

It was after a church event so there were several other people there, who attempted to help us get back onto the driveway. Everytime we pushed and the car budged, it seemed like we were about to be free from being stuck, but everytime it resulted in the car sliding deeper into the mud-snow concoction that had been created by our human efforts. We ended up more stuck and upon realizing that the circumstances were too hard for us to be successful, the other people left.

My friend ended up calling her father who in turn called a tow truck, which came to the rescue. What stuck out to me about the tow truck getting us out the bind was that in order to do so, we had to be lifted up. He connected his tow truck machine device to my car and raised us up onto the back of his truck in order to remove us from the place where we were stuck. It required us to look up. To stop trying with our human efforts, and look up and trust that where we were looking was the solution. The tow trunk didn't fail.

When we stopped trying and we looked up, we were able to stop singing that we were " stuck in a moment that we can't get out of" because we were out of it. In that two hour moment, I felt that Jesus was whispering to me that the reason I keep falling back into places I feel stuck is because I'm relying on my human efforts. I'm pushing and I'm pulling and I think I am budging, only to find out that I'm stuck deeper than I was before. BUT, if I stop trying and look to the One who wants to lift me up, He is able and equipped and He will come.

Thinking back on the moment again, I notice a few more things. The people left, but the tow truck was always there waiting to be called upon. And once everyone was gone, and I finally called upon the tow truck, it came. And when it came, the driver didn't ask questions about how come I was stuck or what I did to get there, His concern was to get me out of that place and back on track.

....how cool is it that Jesus is an even better rescuer than a tow truck? How cool is it that He made a way for us that doesn't require looking up a number in the yellow pages? How cool is that He is equipped and able, that He is a God who comes? That He pulls us out of the mud when we're stuck and sets us back on the right track?

Too stinkin cool.

Throwing Back the Bottle

Want to know what drives me absolutely bonkers?!

Double-asking. I work in an after-school program that kids come to after school (Imagine that) and I am always amazed when I watch a kid ask one counselor to do something, hear the counselor tell them no, and then watch the kid go ask another counselor the same thing. I find myself wondering what's going on in that kid's mind that they think this is going to fly. The obvious answer is that in the moment all the kid wants is their want to be met and if one person isn't meeting it, then maybe someone else will. For some reason, this annoys me to no end.

That was until yesterday, when I realized I am a double-asker. I subscribe to that ideology everyday- that I want my wants meant so if you're not going to meet them, then I will seek out someone who will. The worser (I know that's not a word, but I like it) part being that most often it looks and sounds something like this:

Me: "Dear Jesus, thank you that You are the God of all comforts. Please, extend that comfort to me..."(silently adding, oh and please make sure it's the kind of comfort that I want).

And then even though the Bible states that when we ask, we shall receive and that God is in fact the God of all comforts and that He is always with us and never will forsake us, meaning that the God of all comforts is with me, comforting me. right then in my asking. Closer than my breath, I still turn to people or to things because my want wasn't met the way I want it to be met.

So I double-ask. I ask friends or family or seek comfort in things.

Now, don't get me wrong, I know the Bible says much about sharing our burdens with others and the importance of fellowship, community, and the like, but more than that, it says that our focus should be on God and Him alone.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of chatting with a friend and in the chatting, he brought up an analogy. I am paraphrasing and making the analogy less specific to me, but you'll get it. He said that when we are babies (young,weak, helpless),we look to our parents to feed  us. We can't get what we need without our parents in that moment, but when we're five, we are more idependent. Now, we're masters of forks and spoons and know how to ask for seconds of macaroni and cheese. We grow.

But what if we were five, and we were still being fed the bottle? Not only is that creating a culture of dependency, when the bottle gets taken away, we're gonna be quite upset. For the last five years, someone has been giving us what we need, whenever we needed it and now we're expected to make moves all by ourselves. Whaaaat? We don't recognize that the parents are still in the picture, their role has just changed because they are asking us to do some work. But they are still in the picture- they are still there if we need our hot diggity dog cut into pieces or the corn cut off the cob.

You're probably wondering, what does that have to do with anything else that I have written. I wondered that myself for a second, but it is my assertion that this is exactly what happens when we double-ask God. We ask God for something and He assures us that His promises for us our good and His plans for us are better than we can imagine, but He's requiring that in that we work. We have to use the fork and the spoon to get the food to our mouth. But we want to be bottle fed, so we turn to our friends and we turn to things and we double ask.

The problem with this is that we're turning to people and things and people and things don't last. Eventually, there is going to be a time where people and things aren't an option in a certain situation and if we haven't weened ourselves off the bottle, we're going to be hungry.

This challenges my mind to the tenth power (yes, sometimes I talk in mathmatical terms. Don't judge me). I'm not even sure how to conclude these thoughts because if I am being honest, so often I am looking for the bottle. When I don't know what to do or what steps to take, I want someone to tell me. In their telling me, I am essentially asking them to give me a bottle-which, mind you, boggles my stinkin mind because who wants a bottle, when they can have steak? That's quite the leap...bottle to steak...maybe, I'll try baby food first. On second thought, that steak sounds really good...

And for all of you who read this cause you thought "throwing back the bottle" was referring to a time where I threw back a few bottles.....well, you just been played. :)

"It's Gonna Be Worth it All"

When I think of the act of waiting, the first thought that comes to my mind does not shout "yes! I love waiting. I hope I get to do that today." Nor is that my second or third thought. Okay, I never have that thought, except when I'm thinking about thoughts I don't have when I am waiting: case in point.

Notice how I used the phrase act of waiting, rather than just waiting, because waiting is a type of action. It's a choice. You can choose to wait in line for 30 minutes at Wal-mart or you can go to Target. (Wait...that's not waiting...). A better example might be, you can jump in line at the biggest, baddest roller coaster Disney World has to offer and wait the estimated wait time or you can not ride the ride. You either choose to wait or you don't.

I'll be the first to tell you that I hate waiting. I am an outcome orientated person, rather than a process orientated one. I want to see the start and the end and I want to get there. I want to Pass Go and collect the $200 dollars, rather than hit up Reading Railroad and Visit Jail along the way. In some scenarios, this can be accomplished. I can type into MapQuest directions and logically be told how to get from point A to point B, but on a much larger scale, life looks a little bit more like point A to point B to point C back to point A to point D. In other words, life is a process. A process that includes waiting.

Did I mention I hate waiting?

As I make that proclamation, the question that comes to my mind is "why?" Why do I hate waiting so much? While I don't know the answer in completion, I think it has something to do with the fact that waiting is often aligned with hopeful expectation. Waiting to hear back from the employer is aligned with the hope that you got the job. Waiting to pick up your friend from the airport is aligned with the excited expectation of seeing them. Waiting the three weeks of work before you go on vacation is aligned with the expectation of what a vacation entails.

Waiting comes at a cost, so we wait for things we deem worth it. Hopeful expectation is hard to hold onto as waiting ensues. Sometimes expectatons change. Sometimes hope is lost. Sometimes while we are waiting, point D goes back to point A and point B is no longer anywhere in sight. I'm not sure if I mentioned it yet, but sometimes I just plain hate waiting.

Pardon my vagueness and lack of details, but I have been waiting for something for several years and I am still in waiting. I'm not sure how long I will be in the season of waiting, but I can assure you, it's where my tent is currently pitched. It's frustrating because I feel like I should be a professional waiter (not to be confused with the people who bring you your meals at restaurants, I'd be even more terrible at that), but I'm not. I'm far from it. I throw temper tantrums when I'm so close to getting my yellow peg into my home base and from out of nowhere, the opponent says "sorry" and I'm suddenly back to start. And let me tell you, I can throw a mean temper tantrum.

If I am being completely honest with you, I wait poorly more than I wait well. Instead of remembering that waiting is an act that is bringing me to the end, I focus on the fact that a wait is a wait is a wait. The only thing that shakes me out of it is the fact that people don't wait for things that aren't worth it to them and if it's worth it to you, it's worth waiting for.

Maybe that's what makes waiting so hard. The things that we wait for are things that that we want, things that we believe are better than our present. I would argue that this fact alone is the reason why when we wait, we should wait on the One who doesn't just believe for what is better than our present, He knows it because He designed it. He knows where point A is going to lead and He know how's it eventually going to get to Z and beyond (He's a limitless God, after all). There's a verse in Psalm 77 that I love. Verse 19 says "Your road led through the sea, your pathway through the mighty waters-- a pathway no one knew was there." I love that because I can only see the path that I want to see, but He sees the pathway that I need. He sees the paths that I don't even know about. And He loves me. He is not careless with my path because He knows that every step on the path that He has set before me is an opportunity for His glory to be revealed, for Him to be reflected. And since He is not a God who is able to reflect anything that is not good, His path for me must be good.

And all He asks me to do is to wait on Him.

I know I've mentioned this, but I hate waiting. However, if waiting is so hard because we wait for things that are worth it, I can not think of anything that is more worth the wait
.

Putting on my Listening Ears

To me, there is a distinct difference between listening and hearing. My dictionary.com app, however, bascially defines listening and hearing with the same definition. But nobody asked dictionary.com, except me, when I did, but let's not get lost in the details.

While I don't have solid definitions to support my claim, in my opinion, listening trumps hearing every time. If given the choice of someone hearing me and someone listening to me, it would be an easy decision. Listening wins (Oh, that's deep). The catch being that I don't think one can listen without hearing, so in reality by chosing listening, I am chosing both. Two for the price of one, if you will.

Let me give an example relevant to my life. One of my favorite things in life is music. I could go on a crazy tangent here about why I love music and as much as it's a temptation to do so, I will refrain (pun totally intended). Music is in the background of a lot of situations. It's the soundtrack of movies, the undertone of restaurants, the filler between innings at baseball games, and so much more. Currently, it's blasting through my house as I write. However, in several of those scenarios, while I hear the music, I don't listen to it.

Hearing is more passive, according to me, but listening requires attentiveness. I can hear music playing in the background while I eat my dinner at Bill Gray's (of all the places to choose...yes, I will still choose there), but it's just the background noise keeping beat to my cheeseburger eating. However, if I am listening in that same moment, I realize it's my favorite song and now am playing air guitar and singing at the top of my lungs "Baby, Baby, Baby, ohh...". Okay, so none of that would happen, nor is Baby my favorite song, but I think the point has been illustrated.

I started thinking about listening and hearing and the differences between the two a couple weeks ago when I was reading the end of Psalm 66. "But He surely did listen, He came on the double when He heard my prayer. Blessed be God, He didn't turn a deaf ear, He stayed with me, loyal in His love" (MSG translation). You're welcome to jump in excitement at this, I'm refraining another whole tangent about how cool this is.

I think this verse illustrates the process of listening.
1. The Psalmist was praying. ( There is something being said or in other words, there is something to be heard here)
2. The prayer was heard. ( Now there's a choice, is what I hear going to become background noise or I am going to allow it into the forefront?)
3. God didn't turn a deaf ear, He surely did listen. (Enough said)
4. He stayed with me, loyal in His love. (I could cry at the magnitude of this....okay, gulity of such).

So I know this is an example of how God listens (How cool is it that our God listens?), but I think it's also an example of how we are to listen. Not just to the conversations that are around us, but to the conditions. I know I'm gulity of indifference. I hear staggering statistics or stories that should break my heart, but I just hear them. I don't listen and then operate in love. and that's why I am going to try to be better about putting on my listening ears, because who knows what I am hearing but not listening to. Figuratively speaking, It could be beautiful lyrics and melodies in the key of A (my favorite key), and to miss that would be really unfortunate.

Found in the Woods, as Opposed to Lost

Yesterday, I went for a walk on a hiking trail. The walk, which I had planned on being about twenty minutes turned into two hours due to the fact that I got lost. When it started to get dark, I pulled out my girl scout skills and started listening for cars and taking paths that led in that direction. Once I reached the road, which was unidentifiable to me, I called my sister and asked her to look for me. She found me. I have a really good sister.

When you're twenty minute walk turns into 120 minutes, you have a lot of time to think. I kept thinking about how sore my body was going to be when I woke up after walking about eight miles. I typically don't exercise. I don't enjoy exercising to exercise, but I do love to play competitive games.

Thinking about competitive games, specifically sports, led me to thinking about the words offense and defense. Offense and defense have different definitions depending on how they are used. Offense can mean "the players or team unit responsible for attacking or scoring in a game", "something that offends or displeases", or "the act of attacking". Defense can mean a bunch of different things, as well, but the overarching theme in every definiton is protection. Defense is the "resistance against attack".

I am not an offensive person. Sure I might say offensive things at times, I am human. But I am not an aggressive person. I don't like to attack. I like to protect. I'm a defender by nature. When I play soccer, I love protecting the goal. I love trying to shut down the attack of the offense. Defense wins games right? If the defense is strong, you can't be defeated. I'm also a defender in relationships. When I really love, I love hard. When I have decided that you're worth investing my time in, which I am selective in this decision, then my defensive tendancies kick in (not sure if that's a pun, but if it is, unintended). I will pretty much do anything to keep you safe and try to help fix you when you're sad or discouraged or sick.

As I thought about these words, I thought about how offense attacks. In order to attack and win, if you are the offense, you have to break the defense down. Once that's accomplished, it's gravy baby (I know that's a silly saying, but I really enjoy saying it. Bear with me). It's an awful feeling when you're the defense and you're broken down. Maybe I'm over emotional, but in a game, it felt like it was all my fault. And in relationships, I'm not sure there is a worse feeling to know that instead of defending, you turned into the offender.

Then I started thinking about how a defense is broken down. A defense breaks down when unity is lost, when there is overcommitment or undercommitment, when there's distraction, when they're tired, and when all strength is gone. As I thought about this and my life I realized how applicable this is. When I am any of those characteristics, it does not take much to break me down. The offender, the biggest offender there is, always chalks up a point when I am the defender because he knows exactly what it takes to break me down.

But, I know a bigger defender. The song "Stronger" by Hillsong should be sung right at this moment. While that was a joke, it's saturated with truth. When I take myself out of the role of being the defender and trusting that He's all the defense I need, I can't lose. That doesn't mean I shouldn't be concerned with defense, it just means that when I'm broken down, I can know that I'm never defeated. And when I lose some control over my defense, I can start working on my offense because as much as it's not my personality, offense wins games right?

These were my thoughts as I walked through the woods. I was tired and my legs hurt and my ankles were bleeding, but I was never scared. I knew I couldn't be broken down because I knew who was defending me. Maybe I should get lost in the woods more often. Or just ponder my thoughts in a coffee shop or something. To-mato, To-ma-to.

You Make Oceans From the Rain

Yesterday, as I was talking with a buddy of mine (pun intended), I realized how much I miss writing to write. Don't get me wrong, I have had plenty of opportunity to write these days, but unless you're interested in the overt and covert objectives of the history of the social welfare state, you wouldn't be interested. Not that you'd be interested in anything that I write, but I have this overwhelmingly feeling that you can only go up from there. Correct me if I'm wrong.

Anyways, as my first semester of my MSW program is 4 hours away from being completed and I will then find myself on break for a month, I can't help but think of how lately my life has looked like the back of an entertainment center that holds a tv, a dvd player, a stereo, some type of gaming system, and a karaoyke machine, of course. You know what I'm talking about. Pre-modern day houses that consider all those wires and are somehow built in a way to disclose them and pre-wireless creations. I'm talking like when you go behind the entertainment center to plug in something new and you're greeted with chaos and a sinking feeling that shouts "where do I even start?". I can't think of a better image than that to sum up how my life has been looking and feeling. And while the conclusion of a semester is in my opinion a tangible example of heaven meeting earth, it is not the panacea for all those loose wires.

But I know someone who is. Isaiah 43:2-3 says that "when you're in over your head. I'll be there with you. When you're in rough waters, you will not go down. When you're between a rock and a hard place, it won't be a dead end--Because I am your God, your personal God. The Holy of Israel, your Savior."

Not only does Jesus know where each wire starts. He knows where each wire is twisted, turned, and knotted. and even better yet, He knows where they end. Jesus knows. Back in January, the verse "be still and know that I am God" hit me in a new way. I was doing too much. I was taking control where control was not mine to take. I was the opposite of still. But then I heard that verse with new ears and realized that I don't have to have it all together because He is God and if I remain in Him, all I have to know is that He is God. He is God.

As someone who loves organization, feeling like the back of a messy entertainment center is not my cup of tea. Heck, it's not even a cup of milk and I hate milk. My natural response is to want to rip every wire out of the wall and to start over from scratch, but the reality is the wires are too intertwined and the only one who knows how to unravel them all and put it all back together is the one who saw the creation of each wire. Tangled wires are dangerous when someone who is not supposed to be messing with them takes it upon themselves to do so. But God is the God of all comforts and He knows just what to do.

Tangled and loose wires might be accompanied with an array of emotions that I would never choose. Ever. They might be frustrating and difficult and not what I would have choosen, but God sees them and He is good. And His promises for me are true. He is Love. and I have to believe that He is a God who sorts out the back of an entertainment center, even if it He does it slowly one wire at a time, He is a God who finishes what He starts. He makes oceans from the rain.