In Every Season.

I cracked my knuckles before I began this blog. And if you know anything about anything, you will understand and appreciate the significance of that statement. 

Everyone has moments, days, and years that stand monumentally in their past, that stretch their shadows far, far forward, even onto the future that hasn't arrived yet. Times that define us, mold us, and break us; times that fit together another piece of the puzzle and times that blow over our whole house of cards in one breath. They are beautiful things, they are tragedies, they are choice-driven, they are ordained; and my oh my, they deserve reflection. 

New Year's, 2008: I was enjoying Winterfest at Liberty University, Virginia. The music was so loud it hurt my ears, we were screaming and hugging, and my shoulders hurt so bad from head-banging improperly that I couldn't rotate my neck more that ten degrees to the right or left. If you would have taken a snapshot you would have seen me, surrounded with church friends like Ashlin and Amanda and Mitch, probably with our mouths wide open holding paper noisemakers, as bright confetti swirled  everywhere and lights flashing with a dizzying intensity. And I had no idea. 

February-March: Mental nightmare to the extreme. Between three AP classes, and church along with its activities and connect groups, working at least four days a week, and striving for a social life, I was drowning in my own desperate race. Throughout high school, these two months have always imposed precarious and similar predicaments, but this was the worst yet. I wasn't being fed and had no strength to run off of. 

April: Exams and stress. Mucho. 

May: I left and was almost destroyed. It is something I have struggled with, fought over, cried through, hated, and missed desperately, all in one— a package deal. I cannot describe with words the agony and simultaneous relief that flooded me from here on out, through the summer and lingering slightly even now. And "we"... you and I, my good friend... we ceased. I believe that hurt even worse than everything else, and it plagued me. It gave me nightmares for months. 

June: Little by little, I took a deep breath and let You do Your work. I opened my hands and simply learned what it was to exist, and do it with You. On the other hand, I isolated myself. I brutally hacked off each vine that connected me until they lay shriveled up, and I couldn't get hurt any more. This month was hard, but I found opportunity and a tendril was extended to me, with understanding, wisdom, and acceptance. It was not a saving grace, by any means, but I believe it was a foundational brick in my new relationship with You. 

July: I got into the Word. Hallelujah. This was the summer that I asked questions and got my answers and I thank God for every minute of it. I heard You and I ran in Your direction because I had nothing left to lose— everything I thought I had know had fallen away; I believe it was just in time for You to start building. This is when I began to grown noticeably, and it was a joyful time amidst my lingering loneliness. 

August: I turned seventeen and began my senior year, apprehensive but different. I say, not out of pride but out of hope, that I was cautious because of new-found humility. 

September-October: I struggled to get into the routine rhythm of school, but continued to dig spiritually. And I found in my angry, sinful little heart a resentment towards you, my friend, that had been momentarily calmed over July and August but sprang up again once I faced you every day. I couldn't look at you. It shames me to say it now, oh— shame. I constantly had to take you to God, over and over, and ask for forgiveness and peace, and eventually, love and healing. On the positive side, I discovered Rachel. Yay, my friend who is actually Spanish at heart. You are amazing and you helped when you didn't even know you were doing it. Thank you. 

November: Saturate. Oh. My. Word. Glory to God in the highest. This was my first true mountain-top experience, with the Holy Spirit showing up in a powerful way. I think it was here that I began to learn and know my Father intimately. Everything— the fall, the tear-down, the rebuild, the questions, the answers, the struggle— seemed to be pivotal on my preparedness for this. It was huge. In this month, God gave me a glimpse of just how deep a relationship with Him could go. Praise God. 

December: The struggle continues to put Him first daily, to continue growing, reading, sharing, fellowshipping. I have so much farther to go and so much more to learn. It's exciting and discouraging all at the same time, haha. This month, I shared with the youth and gave a small message. I struggled with relationships and dried out my tear ducts. I also laughed abundantly and gave reckless hugs and talked into the wee hours of the morning and had a beautiful Christmas with my family. Mmmm. 

And in all of this (which doesn't even cover a particle of everything that really happened), I think I have found that I can call this year, so far, the most challenging, emotional, and fertile year in my life. I have met people this year that I have come to love so much that it's almost scary, who's advice is timely and honest, who stick with me when I'm a "bum-jerk", who have shaped me and rubbed me smoother. I've got a long ways to go, oh yes, but they were a God-send. And I keep those who I am not so fortunate to see and talk to as often very close to my heart, despite everything— I keep a hope in the future. 

Thank you Jesus!— it is almost 2009. 

"Your Face!"

A smile is a fickle little thing. Because, you see, it's so very hard to get a good, honest smile; but once it appears it's impossible to mistake it for anything but what it is— genuine, joyful, sincere. People can be very fake about them; they prefer to grin. But a grin can be sarcastic or mocking, unlike a smile, which is always kind. Smiles, it seems, always bring a sense of relief. When someone smiles a true smile, it's like their whole body relaxes. It makes people around them relax, and gives others the feeling that it's going to be ok. It seems like that's what we work for sometimes— that sense of comfort, relief, and assurance. I'm so glad that God gave us facial expressions, because they are so useful and interesting and, well, expressive. 

But apart from that. 

I got the book "The Shack" for Christmas— finally. I read it in a few hours and it was certainly an entertaining read. And it seems to have some very good truths, and provide comfort, and possibly some answers to tough questions. But it's nagging me. It nagged me while I was reading it and as I pondered it afterwards. The whole things is bothersome because I can't put a finger on what's wrong with it. I guess the best way I can put it (and it comes out rather offensively) is that the way the Trinity is describe comes off a little... fake? Weird? Misconstrued? I'm cautious to voice too many questions or criticisms because I think I've become paranoid about the whole "watchmen" thing. I'm afraid I've become overly analytical; perhaps I have been ruined! Ha, just kidding, inside joke. I'm going to read it again (and definitely take my time) and see what I think about it this go round. I know many people have read it and absolutely loved it, which is why I was so excited about it when I opened it on Christmas morning, and I will definitely be posting more questions in the future, for the heck of it. 

I feel like my view of God is changing every day. Every day I don't see Him the same as the day before, and as a result it's like my relationship with Father is shifting and moving and setting up new boundaries. Is that good? Or does it make me indecisive? Whenever I read "My Utmost for His Highest" on the rbc website it smacks me in the face. I'm struggling through "Unto Full Stature"... either I haven't gotten to the good parts yet or I'm a moron. 

My Favorite Christmas Song.

O Come, O Come Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appears

Rejoice, Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee O Israel.  

O come, thou rod of Jesse, free

Thine own from Satan's tyranny,

From depths of hell thy people save

And give them victory o'er the grave

Rejoice, Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee O Israel. 

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer

Our spirits by thy advent here

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night

And death's dark shadows put to flight

Rejoice, Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee O Israel. 

O come, thy Key of David, come

And open wide our heavenly home;

Make safe the way that leads on high

And close the path to misery

Rejoice, Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee O Israel. 

O Come, O Come, thy Lord of might,

Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,

In ancient times did'st give the law

In cloud and majesty and awe

Rejoice, Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee O Israel!

Family

I am writing this because I need to write it. I am writing this because I know that it will never be read by who I want it to be read by, but in my heart of hearts I hope they stumble across it, and they have understanding. 

Family is a funny thing to me. And I suppose, if I want to be good about this, I need to start at the beginning if I want to have the intended ending. When I was little, my mom's mom (grandma) was my babysitter. I was always around family and adults, because I was the first grandchild and had the luxury of their undivided attention. I think this is what started it, this constant blanket of protection and soft laughter and voices and kind, older faces that fed me buttered noodles and "crumpets." I loved it. Not just the attention, but the fact that there was always someone around, and we were always going somewhere to do something with people who loved us. This was my mother's side of the family. She has a sister and two brothers, who both have families, and who all used to get together for big Christmas's at my grandma's house. It literally was "over the river and through the woods", with mounds of white snow and a real fireplace, old oak trees and a busy side street that bustled into town, and a neighborhood full of little children and twinkling colored lights. 

My dad's side was different. He has three brothers (one whole, two halves). They scared me and fascinated me all at the same time, because they were young and good-natured and sarcastic, and they loved my little brother to pieces. Being seventeen now and looking back, I'm sure they loved me just as well, but my childish mind at the time was timid and convinced that they didn't really like me. I almost dreaded seeing them because I couldn't bring myself to believe they were interested in me at all. We went to see dad's family first during the holidays, and always the day before the actual event. For example, we went to Nana's house on Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve, and grandma's house on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day. Nana's house was sophisticated, because my dad's parents aren't together and she lived in a neat little townhouse and she never looked any older than 45 and smelled like Red by Giorgio. And two of my uncles, Jason and Stephen, were always there. I would want to be so impressive and act so grown up, only to seem more childish and snotty. 

After we moved, family became estranged and lost a great deal of the  importance I once attached to it in my childhood. My support system had dissolved, so I found different things to stand on. A church family, good grades, books, piano, and a few close friends filled in the gaps, and they still do a decent job. But lately, I long to have grown up here. To still have that support system that will never leave, like some of the friends I have who don't seem to understand how blessed they are. But that is not the point of this blog (which is turning out to be much longer than I anticipated). 

The real point is my uncle. My dad's only full brother, who never seems to be around; for some reason, I always strove for his approval more than anyone else's, and he never knew. I think we are a lot alike, in some ways. But the only things that make up who I expect him to be are the things that my dad or my Nana have told me about him. I watched him from a distance as a child, and now, as an almost-adult, I still do. It's so funny that he requested to be my friend on Facebook, of all places, and now these memories and realizations come flooding in like the tide. My uncle is someone I remember as being quiet. I remember him as laughing over some joke that went way over my head, exchanging awkward gifts with other family members during the holidays, and as being melancholy. I believe that childhood gives you a sort of sensitivity that leaves you as you get older- I always sensed a detached air around him, as though he never really wanted to be there. I do not believe that family was ever so important to him as, well, everyone and everything else. I still feel that way, years and miles later, and it makes me wonder. I can't say that I was ever close to him, but I wanted to be close, and still do. I love my uncle, and more than anything else I want to be able to sit down with him, talk to him, ask him about life. I wrote him an email once. It was one of the most forward emails I have ever written, and bluntly honest. I wasn't surprised, and not a little hurt, to receive no response. I don't know what he's doing now, really. I called him on Thanksgiving (awkward.) I ask my dad why he doesn't call and check up on him. I only ask about him, not really anyone else. Everyone else, it seems, can take care of themselves, but I feel as though Jason can't. I am probably very wrong. What do I know? I don't know him. But I can't shake it, and this deep care about him has been in my heart for years and years... this mysterious man who I will never really know. I foolishly say that it is only my faith that keeps me from being his mirror image. 

The only thing I really want from him is a phone call. Heck, I'd be happy with a letter, anemail, even a stupid Facebook message. That would make my Christmas, even if I never saw him again. I want to tell him that I love him as his niece, that I hope he finds whatever sort of happiness he's looking for, that God still has a plan for his life, that I want to name my first boy-child after him. Jason. 

Oh, family. 

This is who I am:

"In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. 

'Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.'

He didn't say any more, but we've always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consequence, I'm inclined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores. The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men. Most of the confidences were unsought - frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon; for the intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions. Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope. I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested, and I snobbishly  repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth. 

And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit. Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes, but after a certain point I don't care what it's founded on. When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention for ever; I wanted no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart..."

--The Great Gatsby 

...Random Español

Este domingo, tengo una oportunidad muy emocionante. Pero, estoy un poco asustado porque.... no sé por qué. 

Spanish... it's great. 

Get me out of high school. I don't want to complain on my blog but I need a little vent-time, too. Every day when Raquel and I go to the cafeteria we fantasize that we are on a college campus. Yes, it's premature and maybe even childish, but our daydreams are so wonderful. She's at State, I'm at UNC. We sit outside and it's sunny and we're chatting with friends or just enjoying the weather, eating our lunch. Or maybe we're out at some quaint little coffee shop grabbing a bite. Or with our girlfriends in someone's dorm, cooking together and laughing. I am tired of high school! But enough. 

Sly and I exchanged letters today. They are really long or I would copy them word-for-word, so in short they said: "Dear Sly, I have to tell you about Jesus...[proceed two pages of 'the great commission']" He replies: "I respect what you believe. Right now I don't know what I believe but your faith is admirable and I am learning..." I took heart in the seed-planting aspect. I don't mind so much that I probably won't see the sprout. I think I am growing in this. Hopefully. I wonder what it would be like in college, trying to tell someone about Jesus. Will it be harder? Um.... yeah, definitely, haha. 

Ese es por qué estoy nervioso sobre domingo. 

The boy I sit next to in English... I am worried about him. Immensely. He trips [not a reference to clumsiness], and I'm afraid I'm going to watch the news and find out that he o.d.'d and is dead. Tonight he said he was taking double what he normally trips. What if he...? What if...? And most of all, why? I fear for him. He thinks it's funny. 

El mundo necesita el Padre. Él te necesita, pero no te conoce. 

A Spoon Full of Sugar

I feel like you have been prepping me for what is to come. I feel like this is part of the prep work. Or maybe there is no prep and we are just thrown in. We all start at the beginning- how can there be any preparatory beginning? There is only beginning, and then an end. 

I hate these "espresso shots of Jesus" that I've been getting lately. They only last for a couple hours, and then comes the crash. I say to myself, why am I struggling? Then I realize I am only giving God coffee-shop potential in my life; essentially, my spiritual life has consisted of espresso shots of prayer and Bible time. You can't live off of coffee, and boy do I need to sit down to a good meal and eat my fill at Your table, taking as long as I possible can, savoring every bite... 

Two words have been occupying my thought life lately: magnetized and consistent. They seem to sum up everything in a way that my brain can comprehend. Those two words convict me, challenge me, strengthen me... not by themselves, of course, but the Holy Spirit has definitely been prompting them on. 

Can we get real? I mean, seriously. I've been so irritated lately at myself and, most hypocritically, everyone else. This world is so life-sucking and we as a human race can be so fake and material and it's a breath of fresh air whenever someone (especially myself) GETS it and takes time to be real. 

Something that's been on my mind: my heart. It's vulnerable, hopefully, inconsistent, immature, shy, loving, BIG, soft, critical, afraid... and I need it to be protected. I mean, half of the time it's hanging off of my sleeve, ready to drop onto the floor at any moment, and I'm constantly cradling it like a ticking time bomb. God that song "I Don't Regret" hits home so much it's scary. I want you to keep my heart and lock it away until I can be trusted with it. And I mean that in so many ways I can't even describe them all. Keep it for the friends You ordain to enjoy it. Keep it for my future husband, who will one day capture it. Keep it for my future children, who will one day make it full. But most of all, keep it for Yourself, because You already love it. 

So random. 

"I Don't Regret" Barlow Girl

They're telling me, 

They're concerned for the way I am living,

That I'll miss it all,

Why should I think that God is that trusting,

I can't explain

All the words He has spoken to my heart

Why I want Him more...

And I don't regret choosing You,

And I'm not ashamed

That it's you who holds my heart. 

Why do we think,

If we trust God too much He will fail us

Nothing has come

When I chose that it's in me I trust,

Separate me, 

You have called out to follow you blindly

I won't fear, you're leading me...

And I don't regret choosing You,

And I'm not ashamed

That it's you who holds my heart. 

You have show my ever wandering heart

What love is

What on earth is more important than to have

All of you? 

Oh I don't regret choosing You

And I'm not ashamed

That it's you who holds my heart. 

A Quick Break...

So I'm working on my senior project and had to take a small breather. I'm on my couch, next to our front window, and I feel compelled to describe to you, my friend, the breathtaking view I'm beholden to. 

Across the street, which is dusky and black, the neighbors have turned on a few Christmas lights; the multi-colored glow of plastic trees looks cheerful and warm, and dimly illuminates the cold evening air with an unusual radiance. As your gaze wanders idly up into the sky, the tree line serenades you with a few straggling fingertips, waving in a chilling breeze, dipping gently back and forth. Beyond them, the sun has finally slipped beneath it's blanketed horizon, and washed the sky with a color so beautiful it makes my eyes tear up. The delicate, precise pinks and oranges resemble a flaming temple, dying slowly into a glowing bed of embers that warm the edge of the world until it's crispy and toasted, blushing as it tells the world goodnight. Finally, the periwinkle sheets come up, oh so softly up and over, until the faint afterglow is merely a wisp beneath the skyline. The modest azure deepens as the comforter is laid out, deep blue and dazzling, and you tilt your head back a little farther and see the first good winter star, winking at you far, far beneath. You imagine the coldness stinging your nose and filling your lungs with sharp, sweet air, underlined with crushed pine straw and rotting leaves, peppermint and someone grilling ribs. The wind whips your hair and brings redness to your cheeks, and you laugh like you've never laughed before because the world is just so wonderful that you have to be a part of it; you must be a part of the wonder because you are so filled with it. Unadulterated joy cascades, unbidden, all around you and sweeps you up into the black, black sky, pinpricked with so many constellations that you imagine God stringing His Christmas lights out just for you to see, sparkling and celebratory... 

And then mom says "Close the blinds, Kristina! The sun is gone." 

Act 3 (Trinity)

"I want to learn about God. That's why I ask." 

Enter student 3. 'You just want to pick a fight.'

Mostly serious but still skeptical "No, really. What has God done for you? Tell me what He's done in your life." 

'I can't tell you because you don't want to hear it. Your... perspective.... is too limited.'

"Uh, I'm a pretty open-minded person."

'But you wouldn't understand the significance of what I would be trying to tell you. You just want to argue and I'm not going to waste my breath.' 

[[Student 3- feel free to correct this dialogue, because my memory isn't well to-day]]

Student two turns back to student one. "Ok, so anyways, [name]... how do I get to be God?"

What? I don't understand your question. 

"Can I be an angel? How do I get to this?"

Woah, wait. You can't be God or an angel. You're human, that's what you were created to be. 

"Why not? You're like, Jesus or something." Cracks up laughing. 

Horrified. No, no! Don't say that! That's blasphemy! 

"What's blasphemy?"

Pauses. What exactly is blasphemy? It's like, speaking against God or the Holy Spirit. Like if you call someone else God or something, that's blasphemy, because you're saying a human being is on the same level as God, which isn't true. Smirks Far from true. 

Smiles "Ok Jesus." 

Student one rolls eyes and grimaces. 

"So really, God's just teasing us." 

What? 

"He's all great and whatnot and we're just here sinners." 

We're suppose to be Christ-like, not Christ. 

"What does God look like? Does He have a face and hands?" 

I think God can look like whatever He wants to look like. But the Bible says we are made in His image, so yes, I think He probably does have a so-called body. 

"Why would I want to follow someone or something that I don't know or understand?" 

I think a more appropriate question would be why would you serve something you fully understood. Why should you have faith in something that you 100% knew, and you could predict all of its action? That would be like following another human being. Pointless. 

Gap in conversation as the teacher directs the class to play a matching game. Student two is silent. 

Talk continues. 

"It's like I want to believe so bad but I just can't. I'm a logical guy. I need to see things and feel things... I don't know about God. I don't believe, but I don't not-believe either." 

Student 3 'There's no in-between. Either you believe or you don't.'

Can I show you a Bible verse?

"Sure."

Flips through Bible to the book of Revelations, chapter 3, verse 15, and begins reading. I know all the things you do, that you are neither hot nor cold. I wish that you were one or the other! But since you are like lukewarm water, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth! You say, 'I am rich. I have everything I want. I don't need a thing!' And you don't realize that you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked.... I correct and discipline everyone I love. So be diligent and turn from your indifference. 

"I don't understand all of it."

It basically says to not be indifferent towards what you believe. 

"Do you have to tell other people about Jesus? Like, is it required?"

It's called the Great Commission. The Bible says 'go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, spreading the Good News...', something along those lines. But telling others also increases your own faith. Like, I'm glad you're questioning me, because it helps me to strengthen my faith and make sure what I believe is really what I believe, because I have to explain it to someone... does that make sense? 

"Yeah. It does. Thinks and says, not rudely, But just because you tell me about it doesn't mean I believe it or whatever. It's something I have to believe for myself." Said as if discovering something. Light bulb. 

Exactly. But I'm planting a seed that will sprout at an unknown time. It might grow today, or tomorrow, or in eighty years. God makes it grow. 

Bell. 

This is the house that [Pride] built.

This is the house that Pride built. 

This is the fault

That lay in the house that Pride built. 

This is the girl

That made the fault

That lay in the house that Pride built. 

This is the world

That taught the girl

That made the fault

That lay in the house that Pride built. 

This is the sin

That lives in the world

That taught the girl

That made the fault

That lay in the house that Pride built. 

This is the heart with judgmental eyes,

That wakened the sin

That lives in the world

That taught the girl

That made the fault

That lay in the house that Pride built. 

This is the mouth that delights in lies,

That encouraged the heart with judgmental eyes

That wakened the sin

That lives in the world

That taught the girl

That made the fault

That lay in the house that Pride built. 

This is the mind that carries despise,

That instructed the mouth to delight in lies

That encouraged the heart with judgmental eyes

That wakened the sin

That lives in the world

That taught the girl

That made the fault

That lay in the house that Pride built. 

This is the plague that spread demise,

That corrupted the mind that carries despise,

That instructed the mouth to delight in lies

That encouraged the heart with judgmental eyes

That wakened the sin

That lives in the world

That taught the girl

That made the fault

That lay in the house that Pride built. 

This is the kid who was cast aside,

That was stricken by plagues that spread demise,

That corrupted the mind that carries despise

That instructed the mouth to delight in lies

That encouraged the heart with judgmental eyes

That wakened the sin

That lives in the world

That taught the girl

That made the fault

That lay in the house that Pride built. 

This is the "Christian" who's hypocrisy tries,

To snub the kid who was cast aside

That was stricken by plagues that spread demise

That corrupted the mind that carries despise

That instructed the mouth to delight in lies

That encouraged the heart with judgmental eyes

That wakened the sin

That lives in the world

That taught the girl

That made the fault

That lay in the house that Pride built. 

Act I, Scene 2, Take [the rest of my life]

Grins mischievously into her face. "I'm not going to believe something just because. How do I know your faith [your God] is for real? I'm going to challenge you."

Good. I probably need it. 

More serious. "That's another reason I don't just say 'oh, I'm a Christian', because so many people do a bunch of [crap] and say it's ok because they're 'Christians.' I'm not like that, I know I sin. But I'm not going to just jump onto the Christian bandwagon. I don't know what I believe. Like I know there's a God, I guess, but I don't know if I'm into it like that."

You're always going to have hypocrites. It doesn't matter if you're Christian or Buddhist or whatever. Just keep that in mind. 

Flashback to the beginning of class. Student 1 already at desk, student 2 slides into the seat next to her, almost late. 

Grins. "Sup yo!"

Ha. Hey Sly. 

"Man, I'm ready to talk about some Jesus today!" Laughs like it's the best joke ever. 

Raises eyebrow. Really. 

Teacher asks students to open workbooks and begin activity ten. 

So what did you do this weekend? 

Sings "Because I'm not the old me, the old me is gone...!"

What?

"Dude, that's like my favorite song. I decided this weekend that I'm a different person." Falls into long tale about skipping school with girlfriend, getting caught, etc. 

And this makes you a different person how? 

Sincere. "Because we skipped and I felt really bad about it; like I hate lying. I don't know, it just felt wrong, so I apologized to her mom and all."

That's good. 

"Yeah. And I decided that me and [girlfriend] aren't going to have sex anymore."

Surprised and caught off-guard. Really? How did this happen? 

Explains almost eagerly. "Well like, she was telling me about how her sister cried on her honeymoon when she got married because her and her husband had done it so much before they were married, it was like it wasn't even special or whatever, and I don't want it to be like that for us if we, you know, end up together...." 

Ah. What does she think of this?

"I haven't talked to her about it yet." Laughs. 

To audience Why is he laughing? To companion And so is this what makes you a different person? 

Incredulous "Uh, yeah?" Starts singing again "It's a brand new me, I'm not who I was...!"

She takes out a sheet of paper and draws a tree. It's a bad drawing (she can't draw) and depicts a thick tree, the ground, and underneath, a few fat roots, on which she writes "Sex", "Lying", "Cheating", and such. 

Shows it to companion. Ok, I'm going to make an analogy of what you just told me. 

"Oh great. Are you going to pull out the Bible?"

Laughs No, it's still sitting under my lunch box. But look, here's the tree, right? Writes "Sly" on the trunk of the tree.

"That's me?"

Yeah. And here are all of your 'roots' that you stand on; everything that you held on to in what you say was your 'old life.' Points to the root labeled "Sex." Get it?

Sighs and looks wary. "Yeah." 

Ok, so I'm going to erase this root. Erases root. Now, you say you've gotten rid of sex. But what about all of the other stuff? Has erasing that one root made you a new tree?... No. You're still the same tree, you just plucked off a symptom of the real problem. 

Stares at picture for several seconds. "You just ruined my favorite song." 

The discussion resumes after some silence, and lunch passes. Finally, it's the end of class. 

"...I don't know if I'm into it like that." 

You're always going to have hypocrites. It doesn't matter if you're Christian or Buddhist or whatever. Just keep that in mind. 

"I can't see it. I can't feel it. I need proof. If He touched me, I might believe more." 

Taps him on shoulder. There. He just touched you. 

He gives her a weird look. 

Grins He lives in me. I just touched you, so.... 

The bell rings. 

"Cut!" 

Lights. Camera. [Action?]

Lights on. 

"Round it up! Places, please, places....." 

Scurry. Classroom scene, hard tables lined not quite symmetrically across the stage. One table center stage occupied by two students with lights focused. Others scattered randomly, mouths move silently. 

"Ok, let's get this thing done. Ready? Act I, Scene I, take 17.... rolling!" 

Zoom in on center table. 

Picks up book and flips through. "I don't get it."

Deep breath, as if expected. Get what?

"This says 'I find it easier to share when I think of what he gave up for me'. What did he give up for me?"

Aside to audience. (Oh man. The big question.) To partner. Everything. He gave His one and only Son for you. Because He loves you. 

"He gave his son? I thought they were the same person."

He gave Himself. To audience. (Was that right?) To partner. He gave Himself so that He could direct your life into something more than you could make it on your own. He can give you so much more than what you think you have now. 

Lifts eyebrow. "What do you mean? What can God give me that I don't already have? What can he give me more than money?" Laughs.

Girl blinks and pauses. Freedom. From sin, I mean. Like, we're controlled by our sinful nature, and He frees us from that. 

"Everyone sins." 

Of course. But when we accept Him we aren't bound by that sin anymore. He gives us freedom from death. You know, that verse 'for the wages of sin is death.' Through His freedom He gives us eternal life, beyond death, when we choose Him.  

"Well we're going to die anyway."

Ha, true. But more than that. It's eternity in heaven, which is more than we could ever imagine, versus eternity in hell. 

Thinking. "Yeah, but here's what I don't get. What about all of those people who haven't heard about him and they die? Like not everyone in the world has heard of Jesus, so what happens to those people? What kind of God would send them to hell for something they'd never heard of?"

Longer pause. Honestly, I'm not sure. I can tell you all of the theological ideas about it, but I really don't like theology because it's tricky. I personally think God always reveals Himself to us, through multiple ways. It doesn't just have to be someone physically telling you about the Gospel. We're suppose to live out our faith, too. 

Nods. "I guess. Like I know for me, maybe I never got into the whole Christian thing because I never knew about it. I mean my family believes in God and all but my parents never talk to me about it or taught me anything. Sometimes we go to church but I don't know, I just can't get into it. It's like I never went enough so no one ever taught me about him."

You have to be careful about chur—

Someone claps their hands. 

"Cut! Save the church stuff for the next scene, that's too far into the script. Ok, enough for the day! Let's take a break, people." 

Lights off. 

Passion for He Who Made Us

"Let your will be done (in my life)

Let your will be done (in my life)..."

My thoughts are very jumbled. They feel like yards and yards of twine that have been rolled up and twisted and I can't find they ends. Father, bring clarity. You are a God of order, not confusion. And Lord, I feel the intense needs to talk to you, such as I've never felt before. I can feel the tug at my soul to be with you, walk with you, ask you everything and wait for you, day-by-day. Father your word is a lamp unto my feet and a guide to my path... I trust you. Enlighten me, Abba, and yet keep me in your place of humility and gratitude constantly. "As the deer pants for the water brooks, So my soul pants for You, oh God." (Psm. 42:1)

Daylight, and you splash earth with dew, 

Lord the painting of creation sings of You,

Every cloud rimmed with gold in the sun,

Every light-flecked ocean, every day filled with fun,

God your joy makes all creation sing, 

Father, you're in everything. 

And every star in the sky knows your face, 

Jesus every season portrays your beautiful grace, 

In every crunch of leaves, you're whisper stays,

Every sweet spring wind holds your breath in it's place

Yes creation testifies to what you bring,

Father you're in everything. 

Everything, all that we are

God is for you. 

For you. 

Polarity

So. 

It's been a while. Too long, in fact. We almost never talk. Well, I take that back. We talk, but it's not good. It's wishy-washy and I sometimes even fall asleep; sometimes I cry to you (which has been happening too much lately) but I'm having this listening problem. I think I fill up your ears and can't hear you talk over my own talking. It's a problem. 

So let's talk. 

I've been doing much thinking lately (surprise!) on what we feel is "fair" to us. It was probably spurred by the message a while back, but even afterwards there have been numerous things come up that have twisted my mind back to those points. Like, we have no rights. What are our rights to you? We have no sense of "fair". What is fair to you? And because we have no rights and are owed no fairness, who are we to judge, accuse others of judging, or force someone else to take sides? Who are we to choose which side we are on? We are chosen- we don't chose. 

This whole discipleship thing... well I understood that it was going to be hard but now I understand it's implications. A bad tree bears bad fruit, period, end of story. And when you said the world would have no interest in us (wasn't it Paul who said that because his interest in the world had died, it's interest in him had died, also?) I didn't realize that the "world" means our world. Our day-to-day life world. The term "world" is so relative. I think people don't understand quite what Paul was saying because they don't realize what "world" stands for. My world is my friends. My family. My goals and my dreams and my teachers and my peers. You're saying those things will despise me when I strive to live for you? Hm. I thought they loved me... wouldn't they want me to throw in the towel on this world and become yours alone? You said the son of man does not live on bread alone, but on the word of God. That means I should need nothing else but you. Wow... that's a revelation.... there's a light bulb over my head and I hear the hallelujah chorus. 

I'm going to start being very selfish in my relationship with you. You demand first place. And it's a tough thing to adhere to and I am sure there are going to be many, many failures on my behalf. But please, see my heart. Encourage me and strengthen me for you're glory, the sake of your name.... not for me. I want to point others to you. I don't want to cary them. I don't want to push them. I don't want to have to defend you because you are bigger than all of my defensiveness... you don't need me to stick up for you. You don't need me at all- but you love me. Tell me that's not life-changing in and of itself! 

Here's another idea that just popped into my mind. If I find myself in you, if I'm reborn in you, if I say you are in me, then my whole identity is in you. Which means that the only opinion I should care about is yours, and if I'm following your lead and someone else doesn't like it, they can deal. You're leading them, you're leading me... we're not leading each others. What you're doing in me is not what you're doing in someone else and visa versa. I can't see what you're doing in someone else's heart just as they can't see what you're doing in mine. Which brings me full circle back to judgement. IF we are so focused on you as we should be, we shouldn't be so concerned with how someone else sees us, because we know we are in you and you are in us. 

And one last thought. 

We were never meant to change through someone else's eyes. As in, it is not someone else's duty to tell us what we're doing wrong and how to fix ourselves, because they could very well be wrong. It would be the "blind leading the blind." How does someone else accept the responsibility of telling another how to get their act together? You're the only one in charge of changing people's hearts and attitudes. And praise be to you for that! I have seen myself screw things up too many times trying to help someone that you are trying to work on all along. I have messed things up in my own life by thinking that another human being could help me! It never works- we were born to fail in order to prove our deep need of you in our lives. 

Lord, the one thing I have learned is that mine and yours relationship is a day-to-day thing. I have to work these things out every day. It's not a checklist. That's the hard part. 

I love you. Let's talk more often. 

On Wings Like Eagles.

You, said that you

Only did what Father asked of you. 

And you, you knew it wouldn't do,

To give sympathy when clarity was due. 

You took their hungry hearts like you take mine,

You lifted up their eyes to give them life. 

When you spread out your arms to the sky, 

Your blood was shed so I would not run dry,

Jesus, your shoulders are stronger than mine,

And I know you never called me to try

To carry the world, when that's why you died. 

Now I, I know I was made,

To spread your glory and to praise your name.

Yet I, I try to take your place,

Try to make my own decisions

And be other's saving grace. 

But you lead me and you purify my heart, 

Through the fire and the flame I see

How glorious you are. 

When you spread out your arms to the sky

Your blood was shed so I would not run dry

Jesus, your shoulders are stronger than mine

And I know you never called me to try

To carry this world, when that's why you died. 

For your love, Oh Father your love,

It's your love, Oh Lord, your unfailing love...

You.

There will be nothing gracious about this. Perhaps it is the want of a more extravagant title that belays the simple facts of what's going to come through my fingers from my hands from my head. No, no, it's not elusive poetry that's needed, nor fragmented phrases or elegant prose, but a sort of "beautiful simplicity" that will convey what needs to be said, which by far makes it the hardest to read because of the reader's own thrown-in ambiguity. 

You see, you're the problem and you don't know it. 

Or perhaps I'm the problem and I made you a part of it. I'm not sure. 

2nd Timothy 2:4 (AKJV)

"No man that wars entangles himself with the affairs of this life; that he may please him who has chosen him to be a soldier."

It is no longer flattering to be praised. It is no longer a joyful thing to offer one's shoulders for a year's walk across the desert. It's a strenuous haul and one that I do not feel I am prepared nor called to make. Because this hall echoes and I hear many voices call from the end, but His voice is not among them and so I pause before my journey takes me another step.  And I detect a presence of slight animosity towards you, for unconsciously breathing too hotly into my ear, leaving my head spinning because your words are broken and tormented and I can do nothing but let them sift through my tissues, needles into tissue paper. My hands are tied and I am only allowed to watch you squirm from a distance and I dissolve but you won't pull yourself from my sight, but yell and I try to close my eyes and yet simultaneously free myself to save you. Which, of course, is impossible. But if I Quit.... what if I Quit? Then who will be there to listen and to save you?

God. 

Oh, but I do love to play the role. I call the role and whenever someone shows up missing I freak. It's easy to wrap yourself in so much that you can't see what's important. And then there is speaking. Speaking to you, speaking to them. One individual and a group. But both are carefully scripted and yet neither turn out how I plan, which I suppose was planned before I thought of my own words, for He has determined how these roles play out. We all have roles to play and scripts to prepare; it's ironic that I'm reading Hamlet in class. Perhaps you can tell I'm punning on the word role, but I caution you, don't think too logically, think human. 

Goodness, how everything is interconnected! Role play, chain reactions, chemistry, body chemistry, human anatomy, human psych, human nature, human. 

Yeah, we're human. But humanism is a poor sport to play on a spiritual playing field. It's the most unscripted play ever written. 

The Answer to the Question: Why?

This is for the heart that

Functioned like the laundromat, 

Took in all their dirty laundry

Yet no one gave it a cent.  

This one's for the girl who

Put her heart out to the world,

Who was so willing to lend,

But others treated her as rent. 

For you who understand these words,

This anthem is for you. 

This is for you, 

A broken body and a crown,

And the same things that bring you down

Brought me down too. 

This is for you, 

I'll trade my life for yours right now

My open arms will hold you close

I am for you. 

This one's for the many lost and 

Hurting in the crowd,

Who, when they come to my house,

Play the fool and act out loud.

This is for the girl who's mirror

Never made her thin enough

To satisfy her lust for love,

No boney frame ever covered it up. 

This is for you,

A broken body and a crown,

And the same things that bring you down

Brought me down too. 

This is for you

I'll trade my life for yours right now,

If you'd let me reach you somehow

I'd hold you close,

I am for you. 

This is for the world that never

Understood my love,

Never called upon my name

Was always looking for the rub. 

This is for the girl who turned

And walked the other way,

Who cried her tears and left the path,

For it all won't be in vain. 

Work-out

Please get out. 

Get out from under my skin,

And stop whispering

All of you into my ear because

It's broken words,

That drag as they come in.  

This system was yours for the taking. 

I couldn't hold it while my hands were shaking.

Stronger than I'll ever be, God,

Lift this burden off of me, please

Rip it from the hands that hold tight,

I can't see myself without your light

But I know I can't keep taking,

While the hands that try to hold are shaking,

God this spirit is yours for the breaking. 

So break this. 

Please back off,

I underestimate the damage you can do,

And it's like a disease 

This Fatality, 

That can only get the best of you. 

Father open up my eyes

You have to take me by surprise. 

(Repeat Chorus)

When Your Eyes Are Bigger Than Your Stomach...

I don't know if you've ever noticed, but we give into temptation all too easily. It's so crafty. Half of the time it looks so good, so beneficial, so necessary. It's like if we don't accept it right away, the moment will pass and we won't ever get the chance to do whatever it is again. And sometimes we look at temptation as though it were a part of life, or something that "everyone does" at our particular age. Like it's some sort of passage into adulthood, some secret right or ritual. 

My temptation is service. If someone's sentence begins with "Kristina can you...?" I already know what I'm going to say: Yes. Of course I can. I'm a big enough person. I can do everything. Design a rocket? Sure. Find a cure for insomnia? Uh, no problem. Give a twelve page report on the feeding habits of rare African mammals? I'll have it done by tomorrow. I feel the need to do something about everything, whether it's school clubs, working, helping out a friend or being more involved in my church. I'm the "yes" girl. It's like some sort of whacked out disease, that takes control of your brain and makes you think you're some sort of super hero. And, as horrible as it sounds, I love it. I thrive off of being incredibly busy. I practically plan out my emotional breakdowns and know exactly when I'm going to start stressing. I can rattle off all of my activities in perfect order to anyone who cares to ask, and probably throw in a couple things that just sound good. Why? I'm not actually sure. I think I have control issues. 

But temptation is so much bigger than that, and so much more broad. Temptation can be in a relationship. Temptation can be at the mall when you're looking at something you could never afford. Temptation could be cheating on a test, lying to your parents, taking what isn't yours, drinking, drugs, sex, anything. I hate how it gets into your system and just looks so desirable. And then, after you give in to it, you cry. Because ultimately, it lets you down and you know it. It promised to be good and it sucked. It told you it would satisfy you and it made you feel dirty. It almost, oh, almost looked Godly, until you took it's hand and it pulled you into the pit and you have no idea how to get out. 

I was talking to my manager, Joe, about some things and he said (and I paraphrase), "Don't you think when Jesus went into the desert he was hot? Don't you think his feet were blistered and his lips were cracked and his skin dry and irritated? He was human. And yet he resisted the temptation he faced despite all of these things. Sometimes we look at the Bible like it's just a bunch of "Bible stories." But we forget that He was a real person, that these "stories" are to show us what things are really like, that we can relate to them." 

And you know, I have never thought about Jesus having blisters. Or dry, cracked skin. How much did he want relief? How badly must he have wanted a drink of water? I wonder. 

I've been reading James this week. Isn't it funny how you'll be reading something in the Bible, not really thinking about how God's going to whack you upside the head with it, and suddenly BAM!! A day or so later God's like, uh hello? Didn't I just reveal this to you in my Word? 

James 1:13-15

"And remember, when you are being tempted, do not say, 'God is tempting me.' God is never tempted to do wrong, and he never tempts anyone else. Temptation comes from our own desires, which entice us and drag us away. These desires give birth to sinful actions. And when sin is allowed to grow, it gives birth to death." 

1 Timothy 6:11-12

"But you, [insert your name], are a man [woman] of God; so run from all these evil things. Pursue righteousness and a godly life, along with faith, love, perseverance, and gentleness. Fight the good fight for the true faith. Hold tightly to the eternal life to which God has called you, which you have confessed so well before many witnesses." 

Exhaust Fumes

It's not even a month into the school year. 

Kristina=stress=work=school=stop or else. 

Working four nights a week, two Bible studies, Mosaic club, senior project, who's my advisor, where do I find time to go to Wilmington to hang with my mentor?, tutoring freshman, trying to raise money for hurricane Ike victims, homework and studying, looking at working with raquel=spending time at the elementary school, birthday parties, makeup tests, chemistry project, struggling in chemistry and math already, college essay and apps, running too many little errands that take up time, picking up jeff from wrestling, filling my gas tank (fifty bucks!!), church all day sunday, quiet times?, crying in Mrs Pearce's classroom [embarrassing], crying at work [even more embarrassing], geez this is so frustrating...  

it's only thursday i'm falling asleep in class why do i do this to myself? Martha, martha, martha...

"I am the comfortable, secure, 

Definition of this western world

And I have it perfected, it seems, 

Even I believe I'm above saving. 

...

It takes me falling to the ground

To admit to finally needing you

...

How come it takes so much

To bring me to my knees

Why does it take so much

Pain for me to see

I know that strength is found when

I am on my knees

Why is it so hard to

Show that I am weak?"

Barlowgirl "Song for the Broken" 

"Sweet Revenge" BarlowGirl

Did you see that I was hurt?

Did you know that you had left me crying there?

Now I'm holding all your words close

Till you feel this pain too

You live on so unaware

While I thought somehow this hate would heal me

But this hate is never ending

And it's only killing me

Oh sweet revenge you've lied again

I find I 

Can't get free

Till I release this vengeance that I seek

Forgive you

The only thing

I wanna live

I'm ready to be free. 

Maybe you've been wounded too

Maybe all this is your self protection

All the hurts you thought were hidden

All the ones now hurting me

Who will make this pattern end?

(Chorus)

I wanna break this chain. 

I wanna see this through

Cuz setting you free

It means my freedom too... 

(Chorus) 

September

Oh, September, can you hear the wind?

It's pounding on the door,

And pulling at my skin,

Oh, September, can you smell the rain? 

It's dripping down the window,

And smudging up the panes. 

September, please oh please, 

Why do this to me? 

You fill me with this aching for the fall. 

September, are you listening?

I know that you're passing,

But your smell's intoxicating to us all. 

Your friends have died or have yet to be born. 

Every season holds it's sunny days and storms

It's this world of many color

That will let us all go under

Beneath it's crashing waves of golds and greens

While the sun is not yet warm. 

September, don't be jealous of this change. 

It's the course of things for time to rearrange. 

And in the blue, blue sky

Headed south, we'll fly

Until the light fades out from overhead

For the stars to playfully engage. 

Oh, September, won't you linger as you please?

Just deepen into autumn

Darken all your leaves. 

Oh, September, won't you break your easel down?

You're shaming all the artists

That try to paint you in the town. 

September, please oh please,

Don't do this to me,

I'm tired of this summer, of this fall. 

September, are you listening?

All this time is passing, 

Still your lazy sunshine dances on my walls. 

"In the Name of (Fill in the Blank)"

It's amazing what people will do in the name of love. 

For clarity, amazing is defined as "causing great surprise" by dictionary.com. So it is to say, I am surprised by people's actions when their reasoning is based on what they call love. Love. Are you kidding me? You don't know what Love is. 

It is of the utmost impossibility to have a pure relationship with someone who has no relationship with Love. For how does one love the absence of Love? In answer I would have to imagine that one, in such circumstances, is not loving Love, but loving Desire, is loving "World", is loving "humanism." Love never called you to become sucked into the world that can not and will not love in return. Love called you to compassion, love called you to care, love called you to Love in the true sense of the word, but Love did not call you to infatuate. 

My friend, how do you expect something to be removed when you have glued it to your hand? 

I do not understand why we put ourselves into situations we can't handle. I do it to myself all the time. It's amazing how we can dig ourselves into trenches  and then look to the sky, shrug, and say "well, God, this must be where you want me or I wouldn't be here!" No, no, no. We can never blame God for where our foolishness has taken us, whether it is a physical, relational, or spiritual place. Of course, that is not to say that God does not work all things for His own good purpose (Romans 8:28, Philippians 2:13); yet God never leads us intentionally where He knows we won't be able to resist temptation (1 Corinthians 10:13). 

Once we are made new in Christ, it is our duty to live a holy life as Christ. One of the hardest things is going to school knowing that you're different. Not to be spiritually egoistical, but those in Christ are held to a higher standard- when you begin at the top, everyone is watching for you to make that long fall to the bottom where they're all sitting. Temptation is constant. 

But oh, the hardest thing: to be different to your Christian friends. Because you're all in Christ, aren't you? Surely you're all on the same spiritual page; you read the same book, you go to church, you make sure you don't curse and you try not to gossip, because isn't that what links you? Isn't it your Christ-like lifestyle that connects you? Uh, no. Anyone can stick their hand in the water, but it takes a true believer to fully submerge and forget what it's like to live off of oxygen. It's beyond frustrating how Christians tend to  take their fellow believers faith for granted. It's like once you're saved, no one ever needs to spiritually challenge you again, because hey, you've got the golden ticket, and you can forget about the ride because you know your destination. How foolish! And unfortunately, ultimately dissatisfying. 

I've been thinking about the story in the book of Acts where there is a demon-possessed man, and two disciples try to cast him out. They come into the man's house and say, "We cast you out in the name of Jesus!.... of whom Paul speaks (Acts 19:13)." I'm thinking, what the crap?! Why do you add "of whom Paul speaks"? You cannot, CANNOT live off of another persons relationship. The story goes on to say that the demon basically laughs in their face and says "Jesus I know, and Paul also, but who are you?" and beats them up and leaves them for dead. 

Take away your church life. Take away your Christian friends. Take away your t-shirts with Bible verses, your tithe habits, your acts of service, everything. Where are you with God? In what "name" do you act? In the name of "love"? Sympathy? Self-confidence or insecurity? Pride, fear, desire, emotion, humanism, hurt, ignorance? 

You can't know where you're going if you can't read the map.... but that's a whole other sermon for another night ;) 

Peace. 

What's Under Your Carpet?

Have you ever seen those shows where people remodel their homes or something, and when they pull up the old carpet there are like, McDonald's wrappers and crushed soda cans and stuff underneath? 

Next to my bed there is a lump in the floor. Whenever I walk over it, my mind always says "what is that", even though I've felt it under the carpet a million times. But tonight, oddly enough, it got me thinking. 

Imagine yourself as a house (1st Corinthians 6:19). God is the builder, and He has constructed all that you are, top to bottom, and He has furnished you with basics, internally, that you need to have a relationship with Him. Finally, He gives you the tools you need to continue building the relationship, the things outside of the bare essentials that make the relationship beautiful and stable and full. They are yours to assemble. 

Matthew 13:24-26

      Here is another story Jesus told: "The Kingdom of Heaven is like a farmer who planted good seed in his field. But that night as the workers slept, his enemy came and planted weeds among the wheat, then slipped away. When the crop began to grow and produce grain, the weeds also grew..." 

Unfortunately, you don't always take care to "lock yourself up" each night. You say "I know how to build this, it's mine! My house, I can do it!" Fool. So one night comes when your door is unlocked and a stranger walks in. He notices your carpet hasn't yet been laid, and as you sleep, he trashes the place. You wake up the next morning to find the place a mess, and frantically you realize that the Builder is coming to note your progress that very day. "If I can just lay down the carpet," you say, "It won't be so noticeable." Quickly you put the carpet into place and arrange the furniture accordingly. He rings your doorbell. 

"Hello! Come in!" you say nervously, as He walks into the foyer and looks around mildly. "You know, I was just getting everything ready as You came..." you hesitate as He steps into the living room. Was that the crunch of a soda can, or are you imagining it? You must be imagining it. At least, He didn't say anything. "I've also been doing some stuff outside, and I think it looks really nice. Would you like to see?" you ask. 

He shakes His head. "No thanks, I'm more interested on the inside. After all, this is where we're going to be meeting, not out on your front lawn." He smiles gently. You're starting to feel a little better; maybe He doesn't know about the carpet. He doesn't seem mad and He's not pressuring you about anything. You relax a little. 

"Alright," you say, "How about sitting down and talking?" You walk over to the couch, and as you move you step on something hard. You wince for a moment, and remind yourself to avoid that spot in the future, because it hurts. Actually, you tell yourself that you'll eventually rip up the carpet and clean everything, but for now you push it aside. "What would you like to talk about today?" you ask once you sit down. He is still standing. He looks at you. 

"How did the rest of your building go?" He asks you. You tell Him it went fine, just fine. You wait for Him to respond. He says, "Did you remember to lock up like I told you?" You stumble a little and say, "Well.... not exactly..... but everything turned out alright. The house is built, isn't that what counts?" He looks sort of sad and you feel guilty immediately, but are too embarrassed to admit what actually happened. You try to bring up a few more things, but the conversations seems more than a little awkward. "You know, I feel a little tired. I think I might lie down for a while," you say. He says ok, tells you He loves you, and leaves. You feel wretched, but not motivated enough to tear up your carpet just yet and do it all over. You're not even sure what's all under there; how long would it take to clean? You might need help, but then you would have to tell Him what really took place. Was it really worth redoing? It's not that bad, is it? But then again, what if whatever is under there starts to rot and stink? That would be hard not to notice.... 

Snow White and the Seven Deadly Sins

(Chorus)

Mirror, Mirror on the wall

Tell me who's the purest of us all?

Your reflection must

Be a deception

Cuz it shows me as the ultimate rejection.

(Verse 1)

Do you remember the story?

Snow White and her seven little friends—

Well let's fast-forward to today

And I'll make up some new odds and ends. 

She was a kid, trying to make it alone

She was abandoned and no place to call home

Let's say she's caught up

On the wrong side of town

Her precious beauty attracted a disgusting crowd

There was Sleezy and Boastful

And Dopey (or Drugged)

Glutton and Selfish,

Envious and Thug. 

(Chorus)

Would you crack under that pressure?

Crack like a mirror, side to side,

With the knowledge that in some tower

Was an evil Queen just waiting for you to die?

Then what about that last and ultimate temptation,

That Golden Apple is what'll feed your deep starvation

Right? At least you hope

That this will satisfy your soul

Instead it's throwing everything far out of your control. 

And now your broken, and fading,

Your purity is gone

Despairing and drowning

Nowhere to hold on

(Chorus)

And yet the Prince is coming

To kiss the deadness from your lips

He will wipe away transgression

And will catch you, lest you slip

He is robed in shining armor

With a noble steed and sword

He will rectify your purity

Snow White, He's your greatest reward.

The Letter Song

(Intro)

Let me write you a letter

Explaining all I need to say—

It might not make sense now,

I don't expect it to today.

But I've stuck it in the mailbox

And I'm shipping it away,

Because in that little envelope 

Is what's causing the delay.

(Instrumental)

(Verse 1)

Dear Friend.

This day reminds me of last year,

We played pretend.

It's another day I lost to fear

Oh Lord, if I have ever failed

Let me know at least that you prevailed

(Chorus)

You've got my doubt wrapped up

In the palm of your hand, the palm of your hand

And all of my fear

It's weird

But I know you're here

God I'll never give up

I'll never give up again.

(Instrumental)

(Verse 2)

Dear brother,

I've never known how to explain

To some other

Why I never said it to your face

Three little words, I love you

Brother, did I ever really show you?

(Chorus)

(Bridge)

When you read these words of mine

I hope you know that it's all right

Oh Lord, if I have failed tonight

God please assure me it's all right. 

"And all at once the crowd begins to sing

Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing

Are the same."

-- The Fray

School starts in less that two weeks. Senior year, can you believe it? And then what: the rest of our lives. The rest of my life, the beginning of everything I dream about, the end of what I know, the adventure that erupts with a cloud of graduation and slowly fades with time into glittering memories. Does that sound sentimental? And it hasn't even begun yet! 

I look at it with eager anticipation. This year will be different. The road may be the same but I've got a new spring to my step. I refuse to see it as monotony but to expect it with joy, and accept its stresses with an easy laugh as I learn to put my faith into Christ like never before. God, I can feel you working in me! It's like an unveiling. Of course, what I understand now is nothing to what you would want me to understand; how much I know of you is miserably tiny in comparison to what you could teach me; my faith is lacking on the scales of your expectations, but I grow! Oh, Father, I can grow. So please, beautiful Lord, grow me closer to you, and also to the believers around me, so that I may experience for your glory what it truly means to fellowship with the Body. And as my fellowship with others who seek your face strengthens, let us continually be an encouragement to one another, let us love one another fully, and let us not succumb to pettiness or feel the need to please others, as it takes away from us fully focusing on your will. Lord, allow us to truly become the body of Christ! Not an institution! 

"Institutionalism breeds task-based friendships. As long as you're on the same task together, you can be friends. When you're not, people tend to treat you like damaged goods. Now you know what that's like from the other side and one of the big things Jesus is doing in you now is to free you from the game, so that you can live deeply in him rather than worrying about what everyone else thinks about you."

  --So You Don't Want to Go to Church Anymore, Jake Colsen (great book! check it out! whether you love going to church or not, it's really eye-opening)

Oswald says (2):

The Holy Suffering of the Saint

    "Let those who suffer according to the will of God commit their souls to Him in doing good..."— 1 Peter 4:19

Choosing to suffer means that there must be something wrong with you, but choosing God's will— even if it means you will suffer— is something very different. No normal, healthy saint ever chooses suffering; he simply chooses God's will, just as Jesus did, whether it means suffering or not. And no saint should ever dare to interfere with the lesson of suffering being taught in another saint's life. 

The saint who satisfies the heart of Jesus will make other saints strong and mature for God. But the people use to strengthen us are never those who sympathize with us; in fact, we are hindered by those who give us their sympathy because sympathy only serves to weaken us. No one better understands a saint than the saint who is as close and as intimate with Jesus as possible. If we accept the sympathy  of another saint, our spontaneous feeling is, :God is dealing too harshly with me and making my life too difficult." That is why Jesus said that self-pity was of the evil (see Matthew 16:21-23). We must be merciful to God's reputation. it is easy for us to tarnish God's character because He never argues back; He never tries to defend or vindicate Himself. Beware of thinking that Jesus needed sympathy during His life on earth. He refused the sympathy of people because in His great wisdom He knew that no one of earth understood His purpose (see Matthew 16:23). He accepted only the sympathy of His Father and the angels (see Luke 15:10). 

Look at God's incredible waste of His saints, according to the world's judgment. God seems to plant His saints in the most useless places. And then we say, "God intends for me to be here because I am so useful to Him." Yet Jesus never measured His life by how or where He was of the greatest use. God places His saints where they will bring the most glory to Him, and we are totally incapable of judging where that may be. 

http://www.rbc.org/utmost/index.php

Brought to you by the letter "G"

WHY DOES GOD ALWAYS GET LEFT OUT OF THE CONVERSATION?

I mean honestly. I've noticed it more and more. Whenever I bring up the "G word" conversation dies. Even with my "Christian" friends! Or there's a topic change. Or an awkward pause, a slight address, and then we're moving on. It's so frustrating! 

"Hey"

How are you?

"Well I'm struggling with [blank]..."

Oh, well [tons of advice]. Anything else?

"Sort of. I'm also struggling with God."

[Silence. Then...] So what else is new? 

"Dude, what's up? I haven't talked to you in so long!"

Hey! Yeah, I've been around [blah blah].

"Cool. What have you been up to?"

Eh, not much, you?

"This and that, it's been interesting. What's been on your mind?"

Well I've been doing a lot of thinking...

"About what?"

College and stuff...

"Oh yeah! [blah blah blah]"

And God. Aren't you Catholic?

[Silence. Then...] "Uh, yeah... so do you want to go shopping tomorrow?" 

This is aggravating. God, how long have I ignored you when others brought you up in conversation? How many times have I done the exact same thing? Forgive me, Father! Let me always be eager to speak of you and discuss your character with others! Lord, it is irksome that as I grow with you I can't talk to even my good friends about it. Am I doing it wrong? Or is this just part of the process? 

Hill Country

This is so much harder than I anticipated. Shame on me. 

So God, I just want to clear up some things with you. You see, I've never been to the hill country before. This is new terrain for me. I mean, I've been living on the beach my whole life, and I thought that life would be easy with you. Sure, some days it rained, and sometimes my house got a little bit flooded out, but I was so used to sunny and 75. Everyone around me agreed with me. They told me that the walk wouldn't be easy, but it seemed pretty easy to me. And it didn't look difficult for them either. So we were all together, on the beach, telling each other it would be hard to walk but never actually walking. We thought we were walking, but we weren't. We were just talking about it. 

Then one day you sent me a letter inviting me to stay with you for a while in the hill country. At first I was confused, because I thought you lived on the beach. When I showed the letter to some of my neighbors, they sort of hemmed and hawed about it and shrugged it off. So I packed up and left. My neighbors, I think they thought I was sort of weird to leave the beach. But I wanted to see if you really did live in the hill country. 

It took me a while to get started. The road was uneven and unpaved. I had to pass some friends as I left, and it was awkward. I didn't want to leave them. I wanted them with me, but I couldn't force them to come with me, because they were happy at the beach. Maybe you sent them letters, too, telling them to stay there. I don't know. I still don't want them behind. But I don't know what you're doing with them, and I can't question you. So I keep walking. 

Now that I'm walking, it gets harder and harder. I've started to reach some of the foothills and I'm stumbling a little. It's weird out here, and disillusioning. I have to look twice at my surroundings because it's all unfamiliar to me. Every time I look back I trip over something in front of me on the road. And as I look ahead I see these terribly looming mountains. They scare me. Do you live in them? On top of them? This is so different from the beach. On the beach it was all flat land and I could see clearly all around me for miles. But now there are so many obstacles and my vision is limited. Sometimes I'll see other people traveling, and sometimes I'm even lucky enough to have some conversation with them, but they're on their own journey, and I'm on mine, and I understand that. 

Something I'm grappling with is the difficulty and humility this journey to your house requires. The concept that you want me to struggle is foreign to me. Having some one tell you that you are going to suffer for Christ is very different than actually suffering. It's like someone describing light to someone who has lived in the dark their whole life. It's not something you can describe; what would you say? Or trying to describe red to someone who is color blind. How would you do it? It's impossible to understand until you experience it. 

Yet perhaps, in that case, we suffer so that we may know You. How can we know You until we suffer like you? But at the same time, I look at people who have disorders, like my dad, or anorexia, or mental disabilities, or who are emotionally or physically abused, and I want to turn into a mass of tears and ask you "How can you let this person go through this? How is this helping? What happened to your compassion?"  I am unworthy to ask these questions, I know. Maybe if I had real faith I wouldn't ask. Maybe if I weren't so weak I could trust you more. I don't know anymore. I just keep walking and stretching my legs. I can tell I'm not in shape because it burns. Maybe I never was in shape. "No pain, no gain", right? Well, I'm exercising now, aren't I?

God, why do I keep failing people? And why have you made me so that I always take the fall for others? Why is it wrong to ask why? Why does it signify a lack of faith? Why am I ALWAYS wrong? Why do I always take the blame, and why does it feel sort of satisfying? 

"I need you like a hurricane

Thunder crashing wind and rain

To tear these walls down

I'm only yours now

I need you like a burning flame

A wildfire untamed

To burn these walls down

I'm only yours now

I'm only yours now."

   --"Hurricane" Jimmy Needham

(Please, don't leave thoughtless comments. Pray first.)

Oswald says:

The Brave Friendship of God

"He took the twelve aside..."—Luke 18:31

Oh, the bravery of God in trusting us! Do you say, "But He has been unwise to choose me, because there is nothing good in me and I have no value"? That is exactly why He chose you. As long as you think that you are of value to Him He cannot choose you, because you have purposes of your own to serve. But if you will allow Him to take you to the end of your own self-sufficiency, then he can choose you to go with Him "to Jerusalem" (Luke 18:31). And that will mean the fulfillment of purposes which He does not discuss with you. 

We tend to say that because a person has natural ability he will make a good Christian. It is not a matter of our equipment, but a matter of our poverty; not of what we bring with us, but of what God puts into us; not a matter of natural virtues, of strength of character, of knowledge, or of experience— all of that is of no avail in this concern. The only thing of value is being taken into the compelling purpose of God and being made His friends (1 Corinthians 1:26-31). God's friendship is with people who know their poverty. He can accomplish nothing with the person who thinks that he is of use to God. As Christians we are not here for our own purpose at all— we are here for the purpose of God, and the two are not the same. We do not know what God's compelling purpose is, but whatever happens, we must maintain our relationship with Him. We must never allow anything to damage our relationship with God, but if something does damage it, we must take the time to make it right again. The most important aspect of Christianity is not the work we do, but the relationship we maintain and the surrounding influence and qualities produced by that relationship. That is all God asks us to give our attention to, and it is the only thing that is continually under attack. 

Like A Lion

You b r o k e me

He helped me see

You          left me

He pushed me free

You

          let

              me

                     fall

He brought me to my knees.

My loneliness may have a name

But my rescuer is a lion, untamed,

For He is fiercer than my pain

And you who've left won't take my faith.

1:14 AM

I love one of the songs that Thomas wrote. I don't know the title, but the lyrics are amazing. My favorite part is:

"And do you know Him

And how could you come this

Far just to be the same,

Just to be the same?" 

I think about my life whenever I hear this. I'm running, I'm running, I'm running. There's always some new destination, some new goal, a new friend to make, a new activity to do, something, anything that I think will get me farther or better.... but I end up being just the same. Because, you see, I'm taking the wrong steps. I'm picking my own direction and following my own plan. And I end up being the same, feeling unsatisfied, yearning for something just around the corner that I can't put a finger on, can't quite obtain. I am insatiable; I crave a New thing. I'm hungry, I'm starving, I'm a fool with nothing to satisfy because I'm looking for satisfaction in all the wrong places. So often lately I cry out "God! Strip me down! I want to be nothing." I hope in my heart of hearts that I will be rebuilt into a different person. A New, True person. 

Yet no matter how far I come, I can not make myself any different by my own power. It's a hard lesson to learn: that you can't fix yourself. I never believed it until this past year. It used to be so easy for me to believe that whatever I worked for, sweated blood and tears for, I could achieve. I mean, come on, it's beaten into you by all of your teachers and mentors from the minute you reach comprehension and forward. "If you set your mind to it, you can be anything you want to be!" Yeah... shut up. 

If Christ doesn't completely suffuse everything I am, if I don't let Christ overwhelm me and become all of me, what am I doing? I'm barely getting by. What am I if I am not Christ? I am a shell. An empty, empty shell, with unending hunger, never full, always searching, echoing, in a world full of shells who fill themselves with useless CRAP, who cover themselves in makeup and nice clothes, who look in the mirror and say "See, I'm a normal, happy person", when really they are naked and starved, so sick they are dying, but too human to know the difference. I don't want to wake up forty years from now thinking that my life has been wasted to the point where I couldn't care less whether the sun continues to rise or not. 

I'm at a crossroads. I can't go back and there's a wall ahead of me. You from my past: thank you for helping me get this far. It's really up to you how much further you want to go with me to the next phase. You from my future: Are you going to let me in? Or are you going to watch me from the other side of the wall, contemptible at my feeble attempts to scale it? Because I'm going forward. 

Goodbye, Special K. Goodbye, Kristina. This is You in me, God. Give me a new name. A new song. It's time to be reborn. 

And Thomas's lyrics lull me to sleep. 

It's A Small World After All

"I step out onto the busy street

See a girl and our eyes meet

She does her best to smile at me

And hide what's underneath. 

There's a man just to her right

Black suit and a bright red tie

Too ashamed to tell his wife

He's out of work, he's buying time.

All those people, going somewhere,

Why have I never cared? 

Give me your eyes for just one second

Give me your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing 

Give me your love for humanity.

Give me your arms for the brokenhearted

The ones that are just beyond my reach

Give me your heart for the ones forgotten

Give me your eyes so I can see."

      --"Give me your eyes" Brandon Heath

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's hard to write whatever it is you're feeling when you're blog is public to EVERYTHING you want to write about. A blog is suppose to bring freedom to the writer, in a sense, but all it really does is give the reader the ability to become offended and assume and really, all in all, restricts the writer from writing about whatever he or she wants because she has to think about all the potential viewers. 

There are days when my flesh wants to eat me alive, if that makes sense. I'm so tired of trying to figure out what I'm "suppose to be". What college am I suppose to go to? What am I suppose to major in? What kind of scholarships do I match the criteria for? What friends should I have? Where do I draw the line? God: this is so hard. And it's summer! It's not suppose to be hard! Right? 

Actually, I really don't care about readers right now. I am just going to talk to myself. Childish me. 

This is what has been going through my mind: 

1) College, majors, potential future careers, scholarship opportunities. 

2) God. I need to put Him first but I am going to be honest and show you and the world that the first thing that came to my head was college and not God. There's problem numero uno. 

3) My relationships with others, and potential relationships. I am a "pour-er out-er". And I want to be able to give myself equally to everyone and I can only do that with so many people before I stretch too thin. I want to be nice and friendly to everyone, of course. But I am realizing that I can only have a small group that I can really give myself to. ¿Comprendé? 

4) I love my family. My daddy just had surgery today. Pray for him. 

5) I am concerned for my friend and her friend. I'm not sure which one I'm concerned for more. 

6) Raquel: thank you again for coffee and forgiveness and a listening ear. 

7) I've been really, really getting into Bible history and such lately. Theology? It's so cool. 

8) Ashton I love you girl. Your new friendship is beyond words. 

Lalalalalalalalala.