Modest Mouse on trust.

This summer has been crazy! I have been in Biochemistry and Genetics, working 30+ hours at Central Baptist and CarePlus Medical family practice, training for a triathlon, and still managing to have a blast with the roommates at the same time. I have been experiencing a lot of new things this summer - new training, new diet, new music, new roommates, etc. It took a little adjustment....okay, it took a lot of adjustment. But God has been faithful, as always.

One band in particular that I've been listening to is Modest Mouse...kind of a throw-back to the 90's. One line from their song Missed the Boat has played through my mind over and over the past few months:

Our ideas held no water but we used them like a dam.

I love the picture that paints. And I have done this all my life. I take my ideas, whether they be practical or extravagant, I assume that they are true and right ideas, and I build upon these self-made truths to try to make them real in my life. But my ideas are just ideas, and in the end, they hold no water.

A dam that doesn't hold water is useless. My ideas are meaningless when used as a foundation to build life upon. And yet, I have done this time and time again, only to have my dam break, and water flood all over what I've created with my two small hands.

If I had to sum up the summer in one word it would be trust. God has impressed upon my heart this simple yet complicated discipline. It's simple because I don't really have to do anything except let go of the ideas I'm holding onto. It's complicated because I love my ideas. What I've learned is that trust is me loving God more than I love my ideas, thereby allowing myself to let go of my ideas in exchange for the opportunity to hold onto a God that has never failed me, and will never fail me. His truth "holds water" and is a firm foundation.

My ideas and hopes and dreams are flawed, and make faulty dams that break. If I trust God, however, He can filter through my thoughts and ideas, build on the ones that line up with His truth, and toss out the ones that hold no water.

I trust Him. It's that easy, and that difficult. As I've practiced this discipline (and it does take practice), I have found that I am content, watching Him juggle all of my ideas for me. I think that He must have a particularly good time with mine, seeing as many of them are quite outlandish and may appear unrealistic. But hey, with God all things are possible, right? I just take a deep breath, strap myself in, and hold on for the ride.

Someone asked me the other day if I was a "glass half-full" kind of girl, or a "glass half-empty." I used to say I would call the glass "half-full." I wouldn't say I fall under either of those categories anymore. Things are the way they are, and I don't spend too much time anymore trying to make sense of what I see. Learning how to trust has changed my attitude, perspective, and even my habits. And I am so thankful for God working this in my heart. Now, I think I'm the person that looks at the glass, takes note that there is water in it, and is just really glad it's there.

rearview mirror.

Wordles are cool pictures that measure the frequency of words used in your blog or paper, and creatively display them so that you can see what you've been writing about. It's kind of a fun way to look back and see what's been going on by just taking a brief look at the picture. In light of that, I've included the links to a few posts that I've written over the years that just happen to be personal favorites. Thanks for reading; it encourages me!

Learning to love wine with my cheese.
Ipod - "Shuffle Songs"
LOVE WINS.
love.liberty.disco.
it's a new year's revolution.

here comes the sun.

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket --safe, dark, motionless, airless-- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."

C.S. Lewis wrote this in his book The Four Loves. I believe every word of it. I have felt every word of it. It is a scary thing to reach out and love the unlovable around you. It's a scary leap to leave safety for the first time and take your heart out of it's carefully kept casket. You expect to be rewarded by your risk, and so you take your heart out and throw it to the world, hoping and waiting for cheers, reciprocated tenderness, affection, or even kind words. Shockingly your heart comes back, hanging its head, dragging its feet, covered in blisters, worn out by the heat it received from the ones it was trying so desperately to love.

Jesus said to His disciples, "If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you." (John 15:18-19) The world is who Jesus commanded us to love. Love your neighbors. Love your enemies. Turn the other cheek.

Battered and bruised. Is it even worth it? I find myself asking this lately, is my broken heart worth it? I have loved and felt pain because I loved and gave myself to people around me, and yet I don't think I've even tapped into the deep, deep wells of what love really is. All I did was raise the stakes in my poker game, because I put a part of me out there. Instead of playing for cheap coins, I "bet" my heart, so to speak. I gave the world something that is vital to my life, integral to my existence.

My head says it's worth it. My bleeding heart still fights the urge of self-preservation. John 16:33 says, "In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." Psalm 34:18 says, "The Lord is near to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

Christ showed us how to love. He died on the cross. He experienced God turning His back on His only son. He bore the weight of all our sins. His followers denied Him, mocked Him, spit on Him. And He loved.

I hope my heart is never whole. That may seem contrary to popular belief, but God's heart isn't whole, at least not in the sense that we think it is...He gives it to all of us, every minute of the day. His heart is complete. His heart is full. His heart has the Spirit. His heart is perfect. But He gave us His heart and His love when He gave us His son. And we are to live like Him.

I pray that I would not be afraid to unlock the casket of my heart and let it bring life and love to those around me. I hope that I learn to love enough that my heart wears out and blisters and tears until the pain is so great only my Savior can stitch it back up. My heart will be whole when it knows the pain of being given away, has felt the needle of repair, and then is called back into duty, even though the wounds haven't completely healed.

The Beatles didn't see the wisdom in their song, but I see it and have felt it. I fear more that I may lock my heart up, never to see the sun/Son again.

So, broken hearts, "Here comes the Son, it's all right...."