weak victories.

Praise the Lord for weak victories. You know the ones I'm talking about, even if you don't call them by name. They are triumphs that you had no control of.

It's like in high school when your parents wouldn't let you go to that party, but you wanted to go so badly. Then Monday rolls around and you hear about the cops busting it. You sigh in relief that you weren't there, and decide that you had never really wanted to go anyways. That's a weak victory. Of course you would have gone.

God does the same thing. He knows when we're not strong, and so He helps us by changing circumstances a little. We may be peeved for a little while, but hindsight cures us of our resentment. It's the weak victory that I'm thankful for, because it's the weak victory that makes me realize God is more in control than I think He is.

"In my weakness, He is strong."

Mr. Manning

God will bring good out of evil - even a greater good than if there had been no evil - and the trial will have been an immense good for us. (BM)

The prophet Jeremiah is a striking example of the biblical paradox that surrender means victory, that in losing our life we find it. (BM)

These two quotes come from Brennan Manning's book, The Relentless Tenderness of Jesus. Mmm....just the title causes the corners of my mouth to uncontrollably turn up in a smile. These are hard truths. I'm living and learning them.

I'm listening to the song Two Step, by Dave Matthews right now. The lyrics contrast with these quotes, and yet they seem to coincide. I've been thinking about these song lyrics now for a while.....waiting for some inspiring thought to string together in my mind and form a revelation of some sort that will end up here for you to see. Still waiting....

Two Step
Say, my love, I came to you
With best intentions
You laid down and gave to me just what
Im seeking
Love, you drive me to distraction

Hey my love do you believe that we
Might last a thousand years
Or more if not for this?
Our flesh and blood it ties
You and me right up
Tie me down

Celebrate we will
Because life is short but sweet for certain
Were climbing two by two
To be sure these days continue,
These things we cannot change

Hey, my love, you came to me like
Wine comes to this mouth
Grown tired of water all the time
You quench my heart and you
Quench my mind

Celebrate we will
Because life is short but sweet for certain
Were climbing two by two
To be sure these days continue,
The things we cannot

...Things we cannot change


The City of Lost Girls.

I just recently found out about this injustice in Juarez, Mexico, right across the border from El Paso. I just can't stop thinking about how nothing has been done to stop the killings, and how it's right across our border.

I don't know how to help right now except to pray.
So please pray.

Here is a link to a documentary about the situation:


2 thoughts...not my own.

1. You have to know how to accept rejection and reject acceptance. (Ray Bradbury)

2. Never look for justice in this world, but never cease to give it. (Oswald Chambers)

I'm wrestling with these right now.
I'm mainly reconciling the idea that it's good to make a good impression and be well-liked, with the idea that my principles and beliefs should stand firm no matter what. There is also the factor of being sensitive to others to consider.
I'm also dwelling on the fact that I currently reside in a society that is unjust, and yet my life is held to a higher standard, and I must operate justly within the confines of an unjust system.



A quote from one of my favorite bands says this:

"Don't lose the dreams inside your head, they'll only be there til you're dead, dream..."
(Dave Matthews Band)

I've been thinking a lot about dreams lately - the ones I have for my life, the ones other people have for me, and the ones I know God has planned. I'm learning that as I grow up and mature, all of these dreams begin to resonate with one another, and I begin to find direction. It doesn't matter that I don't know where I'm going to end up, at least I have some sort of way to turn and follow (Isaiah 30:21 says, "Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, 'This is the Way; walk in it.'").

I firmly believe in purpose. Humans have all sorts of purposes in their lives. To me, purpose seems to compliment identity. My purpose as a daughter is to honor my parents. My purpose as a sister is to love my brother. My purpose as a roommate is to live in community and be a caretaker of my house. My purpose as a student is to study and learn to the best of my ability to obtain a degree. My purpose as an Aggie is to represent A&M and carry on the tradition. And the list could go on and on.

My purpose as a Christian is to know God and make Him known. Funny how our most important purpose seems the most ambiguous and hard to define. I'm learning that the point of our seemingly mysterious purpose is to focus on the purpose-Giver rather than the purpose itself. However, that purpose is important as well, because it is the Way we walk (see Isaiah 30:21 again. God whispers direction, but we walk in it.).

I'm watching people all around me drop their dreams (or purpose) for opportunities or blessings along the way. At first this seems legitimate; after all, isn't a good thing, a good thing? But what about your dreams? What about the things you hold in your heart, and maybe don't let anyone else see? The things that your body aches to see come to pass?

I'm learning that my age-old method of seeing one door close and waiting for a window to open may not be the right way. Dreams tend to unfold rather than open and close, so you only see part of it for a while. Sometimes I think it is good to close an open door in front of you to keep waiting for that other door that your heart tells you will open eventually.

Sometimes it is good to say no to what is in front of you, so that you can say yes to something later. Something better, maybe.

God is teaching me to let go of what's around me, search my heart for the dreams He has given me, and to cling to His promise of fulfilling His purpose for me. There are certain dreams I have that I know could have only come from Him, and He's teaching me to treasure them in my heart because they're from Him. And if I keep looking at Him, He'll either bring them to pass, or give me new dreams.

I'm just looking at Jesus, holding onto my dreams, and praying that He makes them His.



I haven't written in so long. I feel like I have a million disconnected thoughts running around in my brain, trying to form some pattern or semblance of a logical thought process. It's not that I haven't tried to write, because I have. I've sat in front of a blank computer screen with all of these ideas screaming at me, yet so incapable of creating the message that I'm feeling.

My writing progress seems to match my life right now. I can't really describe it, except that I feel like God has picked me up from one place in my life, and instead of being set down in a new place, I'm dangling in the air like one of those stuffed animals caught in the arm of a broken arcade. Don't get me wrong, it's exhilerating not knowing when I'm going to drop and be hurtled down to the collection slot; I can't wait to drop out and be taken by the next good thing that comes my way. At the same time it's hard to just sit up here, legs dangling.

The strange thing is, I'm not even holding on. My grip is loosened, and I'm at the whim and pleasure of a God that won't let me go until He's ready. Psalm 115:3 says, "Our God is in His heaven, He does whatever pleases Him." I've recited that verse a lot lately.

Another strange phenomenon is that I don't feel purposeless. In fact, I feel more purposed and satisfied now than ever before in my life. I feel disenchanted, in a way, to life and the things of this world, and my greatest awareness is Him, holding me up until He's ready to set me down in the place He wants for me.

That's one thing I've learned while dangling - that everything is nothing, and nothing is everything. He is all I need. The stuffed animals in the arcade machine have their friends while they're still in the machine, and they have a great kid to play with once their out, but while they're in the arm, they have nothing but the cold, plastic or metal arm. Okay, now I'm just being way too dramatic.

The difference here, is that I still technically have the things and people around me, I just don't see them as much. Or maybe I'm beginning to see them for what and who they really are - representations of another life, pictures of something bigger, and a taste of what's to come. Their purpose is to point us to Him, however, and never to replace Him.

To begin another metaphor, I feel as though I've left the dead of Winter, Spring has arrived and the seed in the ground is sprouting. But it hasn't broken through, yet. I do not know what will grow. All I have is hope.

On another level, we are all dangling in the arms of Jesus. We have been picked up out of the pit of sin and despair, and He is holding us until He can set us before His throne in Heaven. We can kick and scream and fight it, and maybe even fall back into the pit for a while, but He's going to pick us up again, and we'll be limp in His arms once again.

Maybe if we see this, we'll stop living like this life is the end, and we'll start living like it's only the beginning - full of hope. I long for my eyes to only see Jesus.

"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." 1 Corinthians 13:12