to grow.

I've been quite nostalgic recently. Maybe it's because I'm getting ready to graduate in 6 months, maybe it's the change in weather, or maybe it's because I'd rather reminisce than study for finals.

I haven't written in a while...been busy thinking. I do that a lot. My thoughts have been disjointed at best, but they've been there nonetheless - whirling and twirling like a tornado, ripping a pathway through my mind, grabbing from where it will, and leaving nothing but dust.

It took my first three years of college to "grow up" and really figure out who I am in the Lord. Now that I'm here, I'm getting ready to have to leave...to make more changes. So what happens now? More growing up? Or maybe just growing better.

As children we have growing pains. Growing hurts - physically, emotionally, sometimes spiritually. Especially as children when we are growing so much. As we age, however, the growing process lessens its intensity and becomes more gradual. Instead of adding a couple inches a year, maybe just a single wrinkle forms on the face. It's less painful, but better...we've learned how to grow, and it's a natural process that we are accustomed to, rather than just beginning to figure it out.

We resist this process of growing up all our lives, until we figure out how it works. We don't want to be old or taller until we realize that everyone grows old and taller...and until we see our friends growing old or taller. Then we're ready. We don't want to be the last ones to reach the monkey bars on the playground.

Change is one of my favorite things, now. It's why fall is my favorite season...the leaves die, shedding all the old growth off of the trees, the trees rough it out during the winter months, braving the cold wind in preparation for new growth - for beautiful change. And that change brings life. The wonderful process starts with losing leaves, though...a step that seems to take a step backward.

Growing is beautiful. To grow and change is hard and wonderful and necessary. To grow is to die and be reborn, over and over. To grow is to redeem and be redeemed. If that's the case, I can't wait to grow and keep growing, to change and keep changing, in order to retain life.

what i'm thinking about right now.

You Make the Trenches - C.H. Spurgeon

"And he said, Thus saith the LORD, Make this valley full of ditches. For thus saith the LORD, Ye shall not see wind, neither shall ye see rain; yet that valley shall be filled with water, that ye may drink both ye, and your cattle, and your beasts" (2 Kings 3:16-17).

Three armies were perishing of thirst, and the LORD interposed. Although He sent neither cloud nor rain, yet He supplied an abundance of water. He is not dependent upon ordinary methods but can surprise His people with novelties of wisdom and power. Thus are we made to see more of God than ordinary processes could have revealed. Although the LORD may not appear for us in the way we expect, or desire, or suppose, yet He will in some way or other provide for us. It is a great blessing for us to be raised above looking to secondary causes so that we may gaze into the face of the great First Cause. Have we this day grace enough to make trenches into which the divine blessing may flow? Alas! We too often fail in the exhibition of true and practical faith. Let us this day be on the outlook for answers to prayer. As the child who went to a meeting to pray for rain took an umbrella with her, so let us truly and practically expect the LORD to bless us. Let us make the valley full of ditches and expect to see them."

purple ears.

After a month of living with sore ears, I finally made my way to the urgent care clinic for the SECOND time this month. The doctor came in, grinning from ear to ear (no pun intended). One look in my left ear, and he said, "That looks like it hurts!"

Later that day, I went to a specialist at the Ear, Nose, and Throat center.
My left ear was the healthy one.

Twenty dollars later, my right ear was ready to go, stained purple from the medicine she put in.

We are all limited in our perceptions. The first doctor didn't have the knowledge to diagnose my problem. He knew what he needed to know; he listened to my symptoms and prescribed me medication accordingly. But he did not have the specialty to investigate my ear closely and see exactly what was wrong. He was going to get rid of the symptoms. The second doctor I saw wanted to get rid of the problem.

Many of us perceive "symptoms" well. Symptoms are the visible and/or perceivable aspects of our lives. I mean, some people don't perceive anything, but usually symptoms are easy to see.

It's always hard to see what's creating the symptoms - what's making us do the things we do, and be the things we are. It takes someone who's been there. It takes someone who is an expert in that area. Those are hard to find.

Until then, I'm going to try to keep my perceptions to a minimum. I think it's healthy to be observant. We need to know what's going on around us. I also think it's good to make perceptions, if you happen to be perceptive (which I am). But I think we should be careful to subscribe a prescription based on a perception of a symptom, rather than a knowledge of the problem.

God is really the only one who can identify the problem. Sometimes he shows us the problems, but most of the time we're left to unravel symptoms. All we have is what we see and perceive in light of what we know to be true. We have to trust God to guide us in our decisions we make based off of the perceptions and conclusions that we draw.

Until He shows us, I think we should leave the diagnosing up to Him and avoid putting purple dye in the wrong ear.