my cup overflows.

I haven't written in a long time. Maybe because I've been busy living. Maybe because I haven't had time to think. Maybe because I've been neglecting my heart and it's dweller - Jesus Christ. I prayed out loud yesterday for the first time in a long time, and it felt strange. Honestly, I felt like I was talking to a stranger. I know I wasn't. I know that He loves me and cares for me, but it felt different. I felt like I had a lot to say, a lot to talk about, and so the little things I wanted to say and converse about were unimportant sitting next to the great travesties of thoughts that needed to be discussed.  I felt like Jesus was saying, "Why are we talking about the food you're about to eat, and about the safety of you and others when we need to talk about our friendship?"

My guess is that we all do this. We all get super busy with life that we hurry along and "pray" throughout our days, but we don't really ever sit at His feet, quiet, listening.  I feel like Jesus knows a lot of what's going on in my heart and life, but I don't really know what's going on in His. Yesterday I felt the weight of that - the weight of coming before Him and not knowing His heart. The weight of realizing that I need Him so much, and I've been acting like I didn't.

Needing Him - this is different from reading a passage of scripture in the morning, going to church, leading a Bible study, going to a Bible study, praying for friends, thanking Him for blessings, etc. Needing Him is allowing Him to change me, to pour life-giving wisdom into me, to rejuvenate me, to redeem me, every single day I'm alive.

I've been going on fumes, and I just ran out of gas. It only works for so long, you know, and then you die.  And then it's like, there aren't even words to speak to explain what's going on inside. I feel empty.  I slept for 15 hours last night, and I'm pretty sure that was a physical representation of my spiritual state - weary because I've neglected Him filling my cup.  "Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks" (Luke 6:45), and my mouth has nothing to say because my heart is empty.

And life just keeps getting bigger. He is faithful, though, and my weary heart and mind are clinging to that thread of truth midst the tatters of threads that I have neglected and even unraveled.  I am determined to get out of this dry place.  Ironically and satisfyingly enough, however, there is nothing I can do to get myself out except rest - rest in His arms and let Him pour out His strength and love over me.  From that place, I can be more diligent about being in His word and being His friend.

I guess I share this so that friends can hold me accountable, but also to encourage you that there is no place too dry, no place too silent, no place too despairing that He cannot come and lift you from.  He fills, He speaks, He redeems, until my cup overfloweth.

Praise this wonderful God, from whom all blessings flow.

it's a new year's revolution.

2009. It's gonna be fine!

Not fine as in, "Hey how are you?" "Oh..I'm fine."

But fine as in, "Oooh, that be fine!"

I was talking to a friend the other night about New Year's resolutions. Actually, I prefer to call them revolutions - more gets done, that way. Well, my friend so wisely reminded me that we should be making "revolutions" all the time; we should constantly be examining our lives to see what needs to change or improve, and then we should ask God to kindly help us in our daunting endeavor. But, we decided after some discussion that the New Year is a friendly and helpful marker to put a date on our goals, and to crack down on those bad habits.

So here they are...My New Year's Revolutions (in no particular order):
1. wake up early
2. work out at least 3 times a week
3. do something active once a day
4. memorize more scripture
5. run a 1/2 marathon
6. think on Jesus more
7. cook at home more
8. write more
9. read more
10. be quiet more

I keep them vague, not to avoid actually accomplishing them, but because revolutions build. Revolutions rarely start out fully defined at the beginning, rather, they begin with some sort of unrest. Then this unrest is pinpointed and developed into seeking out a solution, and this solution turns into a revolution. I guarantee you the Revolutionary war didn't begin because of just one cause - unrest developed into a list of reasons for the revolt, and then revolution ensued.

My revolutions are a result of retrospect, into the year 2008. By looking at this list, you get a sort of antithesis to what 2008 looked like for me. I didn't get up early, I didn't cook at home, and so on. These are broad categories, but in my reflectiveness on where I saw failure in 2008, I see this list as a moving upward and onward into 2009.

I have come to sum up 2008 for myself using two words: independence and selfishness. I definitely grew up last year - I feel like I learned more about what it means to be an adult, have a job, make some money, spend too much money, save money, take care of myself, not rely on other people, and just make all my decisions for myself. I had a lot of freedom, and out of that freedom grew independence. But out of that independence, selfishness reared its ugly head. I did what I wanted when I wanted, and I not only didn't think I needed other people and their help, but I didn't want it. There was no surrender to others or to the Lord, because it was mine - this life was for me.

Looking back, I see how my independence brought me confidence and a strong sense of identity, but it also brought me a lot of disregard for things that didn't concern me. I'm relearning this balance.

Sometimes I think I have to tip the scales in order to learn how to keep them even. My words for 2009: discipline and grace. It seems selfishness drives out necessary discipline, and independence has the ability to scare away grace. I never want to get to the point where I am more important than the life and training He has called me to, and I never want to be so assured that my competence might be better than His grace.

So I'm packing my independent bags and reaching for the thought that maybe I need someone, someday at least. And I'm going to start the slow process of killing off selfishness - this will be harder than it seems, I'm afraid. And I'm going to start whispering the stern words of discipline and the kind comforts of grace, and maybe, just maybe.....a revolution will break out.

Death or Life

I choose life.
I choose to breathe in deeply every day of the Truth that is found in the Holy and the secular.
I choose to not walk in my flesh, but to have fire in my bones that is not satisfied with living "the ordinary" ordinarily.
I choose to believe that the ordinary things of life are mirrors of the extraordinary, and someday we shall see face to face.
I choose life because love is real and worth fighting for on my knees.

I like the word paradox.

Paradox, n. - any person, thing, or situation exhibiting an apparently contradictory nature. I'm a thinker by nature, and yet somehow this semester the Lord has been teaching me to be a "be-er." He's been asking me not to think but to do and be everything that I am in His presence. So as I pause for a moment and think about the past couple of months that I have struggled to "just be," I realize how much I don't know, how so many things are so confusing, and how it just encourages me to continue "being." Ironic - after "being," I try to think about what it means "to be" and it draws me to "just be" some more. And that's paradoxical.

In fact, life is paradoxical. Nothing is as it seems, and yet everything is as it seems. When I hear others describe me, they see me as a risk-taker, as someone who is passionate about life and adventure, someone who laughs a lot, someone who has difficulty facing the facts, someone who has a hard time crying in front of people, someone who studies a lot, someone who over-analyzes things, etc. And I am all of those things, but I'm also afraid of almost every risk I take, and afraid of getting out of my comfort zone, and sometimes laugh to cover up what I'm really thinking, and someone who knows the facts but likes to pretend. I'm a paradox. We're all paradoxes.

Does this mean that we're not being real? I don't think so. We're all afraid of things, and yet we spend our lives trying to conquer the fears. Someone who is brave probably has more fears than most of us because they have more fears to conquer. Someone who hates what the American church has become, and yet still goes to church and sits in the audience dissatisfied and bitter is a paradox. Someone who abhors violence on TV and speaks out against the media and yet goes and sees violent movies is a paradox. Life is a paradox, in fact, because the things we see as beautiful often are not, and the things we immediately discard are sometimes the biggest treasures of all.

So what can we do? How can we live honestly in this world of sin where paradoxes are abundant and disproving our arguements and inclinations?

The greatest paradox of all time was Christ's death on the cross. This one event was the most beautiful and the most terrible thing that has ever happened in all of history, and that will ever happen. Terrible because of the intense suffering of a perfect and beautiful man whose Love never fails, and beautiful because of the hope and assurance it gives us. Also beautiful because it proves that Jesus is real...it proves that our paradoxical lives are beautiful because Jesus died for us the way we are. Our filth and beauty is wrapped up in one and He loves it all. He loves it ALL. He died for it all.

My response to this amazing and terrible act is to just live. I don't need to question why He endured suffering and yet made it a beautiful sacrifice at the same time, I just need to respond to the great show of Love. I don't need to question life, and love, and why things happen, and what hope we could have, I just need to live and to love and to let His will happen and to have in hope in this great God who created life the way it is - this great God who lets the pain happen with the beauty.

So let us live and love and have hope. Don't throw caution to the wind, but trust that He is sovereign. Embrace the life He has given - just as it is. Embrace the beauty, but don't forget to embrace the pain. "I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead." (Philippians 3:10-11)

Nothing matters except to "know Christ...the power of his resurrection...the fellowship of...his sufferings" so that we can live in the paradox of His amazing Love. It is everything that it appears to be, but it is also so much more, because His love is driven to us by the weight of His suffering.

He desires that we "just be," that we understand His love and grace and that we live in that, and that we seek to know Him intimately in the midst of a life that doesn't make perfect sense. Know Him - know His love, but also know His pain. Let it envelop you, because when we see Him like this, life becomes something we live in for, through, and because of Him.

This all may seem jumbled; after all, these are paradoxes we're talking about...but basically He wants to consume me, and consume you, and consume us, by letting us partake in His suffering and Love. This is why we're here. To be His, to know Him, and to then Love. That's all.

Fullness in Christ

"For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and you have been given fullness in Christ, who is the head over every power and authority." Colossians 2:9-10

If we have been given fullness now, why do we always feel like we're waiting for something? I know I do. God has brought me to a place where I am satisfied in Him...not that I never struggle, but I consciously seek to choose satisfaction. And at the same time, He's not teaching me any huge lessons right now. I feel as though I'm just living day to day with Him - like it's becoming predictable almost. And I get antsy.

One of my blessings and curses is that I am a dreamer. I love to think and imagine adventure and an exotic life. So this "limbo" that I feel that I'm in is hard. I feel like I'm stuck in a rut, and my struggle is to want change.

I want to become less dependent on some people, and more dependent upon others. I want to get online less and read more. I want to talk less and pray more. But my tendency is to think that I have to be somewhere else to learn these things. God is teaching me that it may be harder, but through Him I can learn these things here...surrounded by the things I want to let go of. After all, "all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and you have been given fullness in Christ."

We must trust that we are "full." I am full right now, and the "head over every power and authority" lives in me...so in my weaknessess, He is strong, no matter where I am, no matter what I'm doing. He reigns in me. He reigns in you. It's so easy to say that, and so hard to feel the weight of that statement. I don't need to move away from the things that I need to let go of in order to let them go. I need to trust that He has placed me here purposefully, and will give me the strength to let go in His timing. It's just hard, and when you feel that you're in that place of "limbo," it's time to trust Him and take that step, here and now.

God is patient, but He wants to stretch me, so He's not going to relocate me to make me trust Him...He's going to wait. He's going to wait for me to take a step away from the things that surround me, and a step towards Him. He's not a cheap God who throws Himself at us; He pursues, but then He waits for He is worthy of our Love.

So this waiting period is not indicative of God's action in my life, it's indicative of my action in His. It's time to move towards Him now, rather than waiting for a more conducive environment. God is here and now and His fullness is in me. What better time or place?

Love is dying.

I think about love a lot, and yet I think it's one of those abstract ideas that I still have a hard time grasping. It's a trait that has been twisted and misunderstood in our world by Satan because it is so powerful. The fact that God is love is the reason why Satan is going to be vanquished. Why wouldn't he twist our view of it so that we don't fully understand and live in the power of the great love of our God?

If God IS love, meaning He actually equals it, what does that mean? God = love. What else is God? He is just, righteous, holy, merciful, gracious, etc. The list could go on. He is also angry, full of wrath, and to be feared. One of my good friends told me the other day that whatever God is, He is ALL of that; everything in Him is acting on it. For example, God is love, so all of God's being is behind being "love." So all of God's being is also behind being powerful, just, merciful, wrathful, etc. He's not halfway loving and halfway just; He is everything He is, all the time.

Now I'm going to draw on my many years of math. If God = love and God = just, then according to the Transitive Property of Equality, love = just. So if this is true, then love is also equal to all of the other qualities that God embodies. So love is just, holy, righteous, merciful, kind, gracious, full of wrath, patient, etc. and to be feared.

This is hard to imagine. One reason, is that in our limited view of God, we only see certain aspects of His character at certain times; we don't have the full picture. "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) It's easy to look at His interaction with Mary and Martha and see love, His cleansing of the court of the gentiles as evidence of His wrath, his tears at the death of Lazarus as compassion, etc. But to see and experience all of Him all at once is hard to imagine. And yet that's what He's saying Love is; if Love is Himself, then Love should be all of these things all at once. How do we see it then? How can we ever love if we only see a small picture?

I believe that we have one instance where all of God was evident all at once, so evident that it moved God to turn His back on His own son. So evident that the entire earth was affected, being cloaked in darkness. When Christ died, we see God's wrath and anger towards sin in the world, His mercifulness to relieve us of the death we deserved, His grace to give us the free gift of eternal life, His holiness that He could not look as His perfect son died in shame, His righteousness that the sinner on the cross next to Him could not deny, and His awe - the earth shook and the veil was torn because of His death. And of course love - love so great that God's only son would die for us. All of Christ was there on that cross when He died for us.

So what is love? It is dying - dying to everything I am, just like Christ died to everything He had, "becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross." (Philippians 2:8) Love is dying to my pride and any and all desires I have. It's dying to the things that hurt me as well. For me, to love is to act as though I have nothing to lose - to treat others and serve them with no regard to protecting myself, and with no fear of being hurt. I am, after all, dying, and I don't hear of beautiful and painless deaths too often.

Dying is rough; it's hard to bear. As should love be. It's painful, and I think we often candy-coat it. But when we see that love is dying, and encompasses all of the characteristics of Christ, it is so rich. It becomes a beautiful sacrifice, rich in the blood of Christ. C.S. Lewis described it like this:

"Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even 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. To love is to be vulnerable."

I must love others, even if who they are hurts me. I must love others for who they are at that moment. I must love change even if I think I will suffer. If we should love, then we must die, for love cannot be experienced to the full without a death to ourselves and the things we hold onto to preserve us. And the ones that share this kind of love, this all-encompassing love that never fails, know the love of Christ, because they die daily with Him. "Then he said to them all: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me." (Luke 9:23)

"...where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom."

2 Corinthians 3:17 says, "Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom." Where the Spirit of the Lord is. In the Old Testament, the Spirit of the Lord annointed Kings and Judges. The Spirit of the Lord also left them, as in Saul's case (1 Sam. 16:14). This verse in 2 Corinthians also insinuates that there is a place where the Spirit of the Lord is, and a place where He is not. And yet throughout the Bible it talks about "the Spirit of the Lord has come upon him" as if God chose to release His spirit at that moment. Almost seems as if He gives and takes away the Spirit outside of our control. And yet in 2 Corinthians Paul makes it clear that where the Spirit of the Lord is, is a place to dwell, for freedom is where the Spirit of the Lord is.

So how do we get there? Mark 1:8 tells us that Jesus baptizes with the Holy Spirit. Luke 11:13 says, "If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him!" We ask, and He gives it to us. So we must only have a willing heart to receive His gift.

Why wouldn't we ask, then? I believe we are proud. We think we know God, and we think we know what He wants, so then we go do it - maybe asking Him for strength, maybe not, but we neglect the notion that we can do no good thing unless His spirit is present. NO good thing!

The Holy Spirit is SO important, that Jesus said it was BETTER for Him to leave us, so that we could receive the Counselor. John 16:7 "But I tell you the truth: It is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you." John goes on to say in verses 13-15, "But when he, the Spirit of truth, comes, he will guide you into all truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come. He will bring glory to me by taking from what is mine and making it known to you. All that belongs to the Father is mine. That is why I said the Spirit will take from what is mine and make it known to you."

Jesus is saying that it is better for us to have the Holy Spirit right now! I would have thought that having Jesus here on earth would be the best possible scenario, but Jesus is saying, no. He is saying that He must leave for us to have access to the power of His Holy Spirit. If Jesus is saying that having the Holy Spirit among us right now is better that having Him walk on earth with us at this time, how powerful must His Spirit be?!?! So are we living where the Spirit of the Lord is? Are we living in freedom because of this great gift?

John says that the Spirit speaks. Do we listen? He says that the Spirit reveals truth from Jesus and the Father. Are we understanding? Romans 14 talks about the weak and the strong. It follows passages where Paul talks about the commandments and the law of the Old Testament being replaced by the New: "Love your neighbor as yourself." He talks in Romans 14 about eating, but is referring to different lifestyles. Verse 3 says, "The man who eats everything must not look down on him who does not, and the man who does not eat everything must not condemn the man who does, for God has accepted him." Being bound by the law is not experiencing freedom in the Spirit. Even being bound by your own laws! Romans 14:22 says, "...Blessed is he man who does not condemn himself by what he approves." "...where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom."

Romans 14:17-18 says, "For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit, because anyone who serves Christ in this way is pleasing to God and approved by men." The Kingdom of God is life in the Spirit! Matthew 6 talks about seeking first His kingdom, and not worrying. Life in the Spirit is directly linked to faith and trust.

Brennan Manning said in one of his books, "Some people play with Gospel imagery, mesmerize you with word games. They believe what they are sying and persuade others to belief. But the ideas stay lodged in their intellect and the words stay caught in their throats. Beautiful head trips are all they are. They never internalize mercy. They never risk, they never leap in trust, they never surrender to reckless confidence. The worst sin in their lives is that they exempt themselves from grace."

If I truly lived in the Spirit, I would believe unshakingly in His grace. And if I truly believed in my need for His grace, and His gift of it to me, then all I could do all day is bow humbly at His feet in worship. Brennan Manning describes the faith of a child: "Being a child...mean't letting go of my expectations of some mountaintop experience. It mean't abandoming myself to what was really happening."

Life in the Spirit is time-sensitive. It means I must be able to move at any moment to follow His whispering. It means I must be like a child, and only be in tune with what's in front of me and happening right now. It does not mean being ignorant of the rest of the world and our responsibility, but it does mean looking at where God has put you, and listening to the Spirit in that moment. Getting lost in the now and the here so that Christ is most glorified here and now.

How do we find it? Ask. Seek the Lord more than we seek His commands. Seek His face even more than we seek the lost around us. When we seek Him, He brings us to the place He wants us to be, and the people He wants us to be with. Seeking Him is more than a Bible study, or weekly evangelism, or church on Sundays. Seeking Him is waking up saying, "Lord, I'm here at Texas A&M today. I want this day to be yours. I am willing to do whatever the Spirit desires. Show me what that is." And then listen. The Spirit speaks. Listen to it well, for there is freedom in the Truth, direction, and power of the Spirit. "Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom."

Learning to love wine with my cheese...

It's the end of another year. 2006 is over and done with, and we face 2007 as if we're strapped into a roller coaster, and coming to the top of a drop - we can't look back, we can't slow down, and we're strapped in tightly whether we want to be or not.

As a writer, I like to describe things concisely and thoroughly in neat little paragraphs. These "things" that I so often attempt to define by small groupings of words include the seasons of life. Isn't it wonderful when you can look back over a semester, slap some words on the page, cross a couple out that you realize too accurately describe some emotion, rearrange a few more to make decent sentences, and then step back and look at 4 months all wrapped up in a 4x6 inch space on a stark white sheet of paper? Although I've made it sound so inhumane and emotionless, it's actually quite satisfying. My paragraph looks clean and purposed; it's evenly spaced, contains exactly what I want to remember from that season (leaves no room for upsets or mess ups), and gives me a sense of closure. I can now set that paragraph or season aside, and move forward with no overlapping of relationships, events, or personal struggles and triumphs. That paragraph is complete.

I've done this for several years now - maybe not on paper, but in my mind I enjoy creating closure. I will reflect on a semester, glean what wisdom I gained that I should take with me in life, burn the bad memories, summarize briefly, and move on. As I look back on this year, however, and start my synopsis of my life contained in 2006, I'm struggling to end my paragraph. There doesn't seem to be a neat and tidy way to close it off.

I look back, and so many of my joys are so intimately connected with sorrows, that I would have to remove the joy in order to "clean up" my description of the hard times. The people God has connected me with, and re-connected me with, cannot be summed up in a word, because my relationships with them are ever-changing, ever-growing. I can't possibly close a chapter with one person, and open another one with a whole set of new people. The one must remain a character in the story. As soon as I can accurately define my relationship with someone, it changes. My roommates became my sisters, my best friend became closer than a brother, my brother became my best friend, the girls I was leading in Bible Study became some of my greatest teachers, acquaintances became friends for life. How can I confine these to a few sentences and leave them at that? To do so would be to confine life.

I compartmentalize. Our human nature is to want things to stay the same, to stay comfortable, to be neat and tidy, all wrapped up in a little paragraph. Life is messy, though. It's wild and untame. The joys in life don't always come in separate packages than the sorrows. Sometimes the two are inexorably tied together - you can't get the joy without the sorrow, you can't get the sisters without conflict, you can't get real love without heartache. It's a mess - of hurt and pain, tears and broken hearts, side-splitting laughter and genuine smiles, sacrificing friendships and love, misspoken words, purposed encouragement, jealousy, honesty, respect.

It's beautiful, though. He's in there amidst it all. Jesus is in the wild mess of what we call life, and He's there. Not a spectator, but a player. He's there and He WANTS to be there. He doesn't want me to make a feeble attempt to wrap it all up "neat and tidy." He wants me to thrive in the mess of it all. To love and to be loved. To worship Him because of ALL of it - the joys and the sorrows, because the two cannot be separated. To embrace change - in people, in relationships, in myself.

When I was three, my Mom taught me to read, and one day, from the backseat of the car, I read a bumper sticker out loud to her. "Sh*t Happens." Well, sh*t does happen. There are things I cannot explain, things I can't see purpose in, and things I wish would change for what I think could be better. And yet, my life is beautiful. Our lives are beautiful. The mess is beautiful, because He is good. I would say that my summary to what I've learned this year would be broad, unspecific, and similar to the bumper sticker, but less cynical -

Life is wild and unpredictable. Relationships can no sooner be defined or limited than you could tame a bull. For me to separate the joy from the sorrow is like eating the cheese without the wine. The wine may be bittersweet, but it is rich. When we can learn to take life as it's given to us, be thankful for it, and thrive in it as it is, we will be rich in Love like Him.

Walking in the Dark

I'm learning a lot these days. A lot about life, and what it's supposed to look like, and who I'm supposed to be. I look at myself a lot - sometimes in a good way, to discern where I'm going wrong, and how far the Lord has brought me, and sometimes in a bad way, to criticize or on the other extreme uphold too highly. I look at other people a little - sometimes in a good way, to see how each person is beautiful, and really is beautiful, and sometimes in a bad way, to compare to myself or to others. I look at God, too, but not as often it seems.

Today, I was realizing, as I was looking at Him, and thinking on Him, that the other things (myself and others) look better in light of Him. This may seem like a well-known truth, but I find it so easy to forget. Who is better than the Lord? No one, I say. When I look to the Lord, my heart is glad, and the people I see are beautiful, and not just because I'm saying that they are, but because they ARE! And I am beautiful, not just because I say that I am, but because I am!

The Lord sheds light on all things, and in that light we see truth. Truth is beautiful. Honesty is beautiful. In Him, all things are beautiful, and all things are possible, and all things are made new. When I pursue Him in today, not in tomorrow, not in where I'm going to be in 10 years, but today, right now, in the next hour, I am exactly where I'm supposed to be. I can see what He wants me to see, how He wants me to see it, and the action He wants me to take as a result.

It's like walking in the dark where all I can see is my hand in front of my face. That's all I need to see. That's all I need to know. That's where my heart should be - in today and right now.

Look at the Acorn

She looked out her window- the rain’s pouring down. Only five minutes ago the sun was shining and the birds were singing joyfully. No songs could be heard now, only the pitter-patter of the rain on the window and the occasional deafening thunderclap. The oak tree outside her window blew back and forth in the raging wind, receiving no mercy from the storm, or so it seemed. A stray acorn hit the glass pane, startling her, and then fell to the ground. It rolled along the rocks, through the mud, until it finally settled in a puddle of water, battered and scarred by the relentless wind. She watched as it bobbed up and down, seeming to never find rest. A flash of lightning shook the window-pane, illuminating the broad oak tree’s silhouette against the sky. Its strength was allowing it to weather the storm and remain firmly planted. To think, it was once a helpless acorn. The sky began to clear, and she looked down once again at the acorn, now resting in a patch of grass and protected from the running water. It was safe. Through all of its struggles and failed attempts of success, it never once doubted it would make it through. And though its growth will take time and will be hindered by various circumstances, that acorn will most assuredly become an oak tree, perfect in strength and form, and capable of withstanding all types of storms.

Often we ask God what His reasons and motives are in our lives. Why am I going through this? Why do I feel this way? Or, why does this hurt so much? His answer to our questions is always, “Trust in me. Look at the acorn, and trust in me.”

The Girl

I am a girl.
A small word on the page
Of a book that tells a story
That is too great for words.

My character is swallowed up
By the Kings and Queens,
By the storms and battles,
And by all the radiant imagery.

Girl – a four letter word
That hardly describes
Yet so easily defines
And confines to the ink on the page.

My identity, however, is elusive –
Limited to adjectives,
Words from voices
That judge, compare, and rate.

It soon becomes clear
That I am not satisfied.
My world is quick to hate,
My character longs for love.

The people in this tale
Live in this hateful world
And see me for what I am –
Just a girl.

Why me on these pages?
I have become a joke,
Forgotten in the previous chapter,
Yet still there at the beginning of the next.

My story continues
And as a girl, I feel deeply –
Joy, sadness, hope, disappointment.
But mostly love.

My longings are not fulfilled
In my present setting.
The world’s quota of love
Cannot feed my soul.

Yet when all seems hopeless –
When my heart is starved,
Hungry with desperation –
A hero arrives on the scene.

Blinded by the fake luster
Of the picture before me
I pass him over with one glance,
Sure that his offer would fade like the rest.

But his eyes are unswerving.
Realizing the depths of my hunger
He does not look away
As He searches my hidden heart.

I turn away at the intensity of His stare
And He follows.
Persistently He pursues me
To discover the deepest needs of my soul.

I meet His gaze and I see
Something bold in His eyes –
Wells of shameless passion
Directed toward me.

He beckons to me
As I reach for His yearning arms.
He covers me with His love
And sees me for who I am.

My sins do not deny me His love.
I am worthy of pursuit
And I long for pure love.
I am a girl.

Isaiah 30:21

Everything before me is unknown.
But I can always look back,
Remain in the past,
See how much I’ve grown.

But, to what avail?
When I look behind me
I can never see
The end of my winding trail.

Where does it all lead?
This narrow path is so tough;
The soles of my feet are rough.
Why does my heart still bleed?

Who is with me on my road,
This road that ends with the sun?
I want to run,
But for the heaviness of my load.

But wait, a whisper on the wind;
A lightness felt in my soul.
He can make me whole,
Even though I’ve sinned.

So I turn to face the Son.
A voice behind me is ever present,
Saying, “This is the Way; walk in it.”
My journey has begun.