Friday, January 13, 2012

All I keep telling myself to do is "breathe." Everything will be okay. Everything will work out.

This passage from Matthew is one I hold very closely to me heart.

"Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or "What shall we wear?' For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."
"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."

Matthew 6:25-34

I am at peace resting on these words of hope.


Thursday, December 22, 2011

A few weeks ago I was at a friend's house for a party and some pizza. Shortly after I got there I noticed her turn the oven on and slip the pizza (in the boxes) into it. Less than ten minutes later she opens it to pull them out and smoke starts pouring from the mouth of the oven, then fire. There's five girls there. Two just stand at a distance and observe, one jumps around yelling about a fire extinguisher, one runs around grabbing glasses of liquid to dump on the mess, and I stand there knowing that there's a better way to deal with this, but that way eludes me. I simply join in the dashing of water and soda onto the pizza. The fire goes out and we laugh hysterically.
Looking back, I realize that the better way I was searching for was to close the oven and thus cut off the oxygen fueling the fire. Such an obvious answer, and if we had thought of it, both pizzas could have been saved. But we did not think of it. And that is OK. I think, in a crazy way, this story can be related to how things pan out in real life most of the time. When we have hindsight, we often see better ways to have done things, but that doesn't mean we should have done it that way. It just means that to our flawed minds, it looks better. I don't regret standing there wondering what to do as the two other girls jumped into action, or not asking her what the heck she was thinking by putting the cardboard boxes into the lighted oven. It's fine.

To be a peacemaker, you have to be at peace with yourself and the things you do.

I really believe that (just so far as we don't make peace with our sin). Sometimes we have to make decisions in a matter of minutes. What's best for us. What's best for others. Sometimes it doesn't turn out well, sometimes our decisions fix everything. But no matter what we do, how hard we regret, or how proud we are of the action we took, la la la la life goes on. Pages turn. Stuff ends. New things begin. It's hard but it's beautiful. Our spirits give us the strength to bounce back with renewed energy. That energy is freedom. Freedom to stary over, to try new things, to meet new people. To be open. Life is like a brook that bubbles past. We are little rocks that get stuck in it's currents and gulleys. The water shapes us, molds us. Our hearts are bruised by its racing fury. We float on again. All of this is God's work of sanctification in us, and it is perfect in spite of our blemishes.
Things never seem to end in this world. They just stop for a while....and then they are back, or something quite similar takes their place. Saying goodbye is only temporary. Bidding adieu won't last forever. God's plan is usually different than ours and it is always wonderful.

The End.

(for now at least :))


And I said Oh My Lord, why am I not strong?
Like the wheel that keeps the traveller travelin' on
Like the wheel that will take me home.
~The Tallest Man on Earth

Friday, December 9, 2011

The struggles of life are so hard. They are difficult. Separation is difficult and matter what blessings you might try and see through it, it still does not alleviate the painful nature of the separation.

I know I am being hid beneath the Shadow of HIS wings. That is the comfort I am finding right now. Knowing that regardless of the situation and of whatever I may have done, He still loves me. He still cares for me with all of His being. He loves me. He protects me. He is my friend. He is enough.

Praise be for that.


Monday, December 5, 2011

Sometimes I wonder if weather is a reflection of our deep inward feelings in a tangible way.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Thanksgiving sometimes seems like an exercise in apathy, and little more.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

It's Thanksgiving week so me and my baby sister have had more time to hang out! We made this picture out of melted crayons yesterday, and managed to shut the power down for a minute (apparently 2 is too many blow dryers going at once;))! It's not the most beautiful thing that I have made, but we spent time together and that's what matters.
I <3 you, baby sis.
Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. ~The Apostle Paul

Paul wrote this in a letter after telling the church in Corinth (Greece) that he had been struggling with a vice and had asked God three times to remove it (apparently, saying something 3 times in Greek is like shouting or writing it in italics). It was something terrible, perhaps physical, perhaps emotional. Whatever it was, Paul struggled with it for a long time, and he hated it, but through this he learned how to trust God more, as the passage above implies.
Now, I am not trying to make Paul's thorn seem less important or serious by comparing it to mine, but I am struggling with something hard now too. I REALLY doubt that it is worse or as bad as his was, but that does not mean it is easier to deal with. It's making everyday life more complicated, it's testing my patience and endurance, and it's making me question my dreams, and future plans. I have always thought that dreams are good things-they are gifts from God. Most of my dreams require the action that this thorn is taking away from me: to walk the hippy trail, to hitch hike across the U.S.A. with a true friend (sappy, I know, but a dream's a dream), to rescue Sudanese children from captivity. Is this thorn God's way of showing me that these are not the dreams He wants me to chase? Or is He just telling me to be patient, to bear the pain silently, and to look towards brighter tomorrows with fresh hope? He hasn't told me what it is yet. I do know, however, that His mercies are new every morning. I know that this pain is only temporary,and that though I may be weak physically, I can be strong spiritually.