My Exceeding Joy

2011-11-30T06:47:00.000-08:00

It's good to get out in the world, in the mornings. Realize you're not the only human on the planet whose head feels fuzzy and whose eyes freak out at the morning sun glaring over the trees. It's good to get to work and realize there were people who got there before you. Going to work in the morning makes me have sort of a brotherhood feeling with fellow man, like we're all in this together. I want to smile at the man picking up trash in the parking lot. And then sitting here in the mornings I think about my town, it's easy too looking out the big glass windows onto the parking lot, the streets, and the bank. It's my community, part of my responsibility; I have to take a bit of credit for its existence. I can't shrug off the people that I see walking in the cold, their breath coming out in white puffs. And the woman yesterday that asked for help, her arms wound around herself like a shield, she came to us as sort of her last resort. What do we know? Just people that because of a couple words typed on a sheet of beige paper we sit on the other side of the desk, the swivel chair and computer side and listen to her problems like we can fix them. Can we? Aren't we just like her? Aren't we different? Because we wear black slacks we should know more. Because our bank accounts have more zeros we're better off. Why? I couldn't really say. But her problems aren't going away just because she goes out the door and back into her rusty car to drive away. She's still part of the community. I'm part of it too.

2011-11-08T19:53:00.000-08:00

today at church I wanted to walk out. I suppose dramatic is a thing I must accept about myself but nevertheless I won't try to suffocate the passions I feel inside until I discover the root of them and their purpose--good or bad. and this has been happening a lot lately, this feeling of wanting to get up and walk out of church. am I too sensitive? too picky? too opinionated? too caught up in details, do I forget to look at the big picture?

today at church we started watching a video speaking of courage and commitment and how much we love our veterans and I felt my heart sink. then everyone started belting out:

"my country tis of thee

sweet land of liberty..."

and every one clapped for the men and women that risked their lives to give us such a great country. I just wanted to sink into my chair. I don't know what's changing or what monster is growing up inside of me and plaguing me with such strong convictions. I felt like a deflated balloon, like all the excitement of worshiping the Lord was popped by the pin of patriotism. how is church the place to clap for the people that fought in our wars? what if we had no business being in those wars in the first place--say if they were purposeless and wrong? they talk about how this nation was founded on God and has such a beautiful history...mmm that's not what I read. not all of it was pretty and pilgrims and a thanksgiving meal. sure every country has its bad people, its bad history, but ours is really good about boasting of our "religious history" and forgetting the ugly parts. I can't ignore that. and I don't think church should promote patriotism. no country should truly be our own anyway, sure Paul said to pray for our leaders and respect them, but he didn't go around saying how amazing the Roman government, how its success was incredible and a blessing from God.

I have a feeling that my idealism and pessimism at times collide and make it rough for my logic but if people would only look past their ethnocentrism and see that there are other countries that are just as beautiful, just as wonderful to live in as our own. that we don't have a perfect history, that we've made some pretty low down choices as a country. that this isn't the only country God wishes to bless.

perhaps I'm rambling now and I'm running out of wind and I'm running out of night. but for some reason I can't stand to sing about America when I'm supposed to be singing to God and I don't want to mix allegiance with a certain country with allegiance to my Maker.

2011-03-30T23:00:00.000-07:00

escape is the place
i suppose
sky doesn't seem to be the limit who ever thought
that the blueness had an end

the sweeps of white clouds perpendicular to
the red clay roads
up and down up and down
again
an end didn't exist really, just bends to tempt a girl
to go on
just wispy trees that flickered and flashed their silver

lost was ok
there was always the dog
loyal (if there was no rabbit)
to pause and look back and pant
drops
from that pink tongue making a trail on red dust

just the sky and the dog and the roar
of wind
throwing dust through my hair it tasted
too but the grit was enough
strong
to hold the memory

- a poem about a childhood place

2011-02-16T17:56:00.000-08:00

Gee it's been awhile. And I'm writing right now cause I'm making myself not because I want to but there's stuff bottled up somewhere between my mind and my heart (or distributed between the two) and they've got to come out. I suppose the majority of them are questions and I chuckle as I realize the more time goes by the more I just have questions instead of answers.
So the ideas of justice and equality haven't left my mind since last time, oh no, they've only expanded, especially due to topics such as revolutions in Latin America, an other throw of a 30 something year government in Egypt, and a growing awareness of people around me, peers, that feel the same way I do. In the words of a dear friend:

"i'm struggling this struggle right alongside you,

along with an entire restless generation that wants better,

that knows better."

Exactly. So all this is coming from somewhere, right? Well, there has always been a rebel in me, that I do know, but as I learn of these things, as I hear about the injustices of the world, I feel responsibility. I'm personalizing it and maybe there's the danger but you know, to those who have much, much is expected right? I'm learning about the truths. I'm seeing the beggars on the street and the woman with seven kids and no husband. I'm seeing immigrants just trying to do better and getting killed for it. For the first time I'm hearing accounts of tragedies that go on in the world and often we are to blame. I'm learning these things and I'm feeling compelled to act. I'm feeling compelled to somehow right the wrongs that we have done. Am I losing sight of what I'm truly here for? Is this a just cause?
I don't have answers. God, what are you doing? This really came out of left field and the only conclusion I've come to so far is that I don't want to be the one still doing nothing after realizing the truth.

2010-12-30T06:57:00.000-08:00

Humanity!

it hits me at every side

it floods upon me

overwhelms, makes me take too many breaths

it's unavoidable, raw

it's that woman slouched against the building, her eyes dazed

her children

by her side

sleeping beneath the blanket

it's the slurred speech of a dirty faced boy

that calls streets his home.

what is it about my eyes sometimes

as if, with a veil removed

each human gesture, voice, and glance seems

poignant

so poignant

what is it about music that dulls all other sounds

that puts a tune to the world

and makes a drive through city lights

unreal

and crowds of people

seem like I entered heaven.

what is it about this place

God

it gets sweeter every time.

2010-12-01T21:04:00.000-08:00

God told me to take a square and paint the word joy.

It's amazing the power of action and the written word. As I sat at the table and added stroke after stroke of red paint onto the brown paper bag shaped like a square, it was like I was pouring myself out with each glop of paint. It was like I was having a conversation with God, as if each stroke was a tangible action of obedience. Then came the shiny black paint, and first went the O. Then the Y. And as I painted the J it was as if I was choosing joy and writing it on my heart. Just taking three ordinary letters and putting them together can form a very powerful word. In just those three letters my mind assigns huge meaning.

It was just a couple nights ago, I was pouring myself out to a very special person, it was the first time I'd poured myself out to someone in a long time. At some point amidst the pain, flood, and words and the peace that came later, this picture appeared in my head of my bedroom wall, and there were three red blocks, each one bigger than first, with big bold black letters that spelled J-O-Y. God wanted me to paint joy. So I did.
Oh such a power in obedience and words.

2010-11-24T18:45:00.000-08:00

Feeling so restless tonight. Went on a walk and was blown down the sidewalks like a leaf in the wind, wishing if only I were one I could just skip and skuttle away to freedom. There was lightening in the sky and humidity in the air even though it's November 24 and the streets were so deserted I felt like I was the only one alive. I found a bench on the side of a little trail, looking across to clover and tall bare trees swaying in the wind. There were street lights and a highway behind me but still I felt like the only person in the world. I rested my head back against the bench and looked up at the sky and wanted to badly to stay there forever, to just curl up on my side on the bench and pretend I had no connections, no people waiting on me, no homework to do, not even a name just a person on a bench. So much of me just wanted to lay there till dawn and see if police would come roust me from my sleep and tell me it was illegal to sleep on public property. These ridiculous desires confuse me sometimes but they are always below the surface, swirling around in my mind. I want to experience everything, I want to know what it feels like to be every person in the world. There must be some reason my heart is this way and I ponder and ponder but have never discovered it yet. There must be a reason I can't see anyone as too scary or too dangerous or too far gone or too ridiculous or too hard. They are people and it seems they must be understood someone, whatever the length I must go.
A long time ago I realized that God was calling me to the one that aren't loved, that no ones has compassion on. It was so long ago that just the other day I recovered it again dusty and cobweb covered in the corners of my heart and remembered.
Where will it take me?
I feel like these people are out there, I just haven't found them yet. Or will they come to me? Or have they been right here all along?

2010-10-16T20:53:00.000-07:00

Thank God for the tranquility of my parents house where I can stop and think.
It never occurred to me, (because I'm quite naive) that because I'm studying sociology the majority of what I study will focus on social interaction, social issues, social problems, society as a whole and ultimately, socialism. Yep, that's a dreaded word for a lot of you. But it's been on my mind a lot lately.

People always told me that going to a public university would be challenge and change you. It's funny how people telling you and experiencing it yourself are two very different things. I think this one snuck up on me. My head has been swimming with ideas of race, ethnicity, income, prejudice, stereotypes, inequality, diversity, and deviance. I can't live in ignorance any more because I've acquired knowledge. That knowledge makes me accountable. But my head is still swimming with the enormity of our problems as humans. Where does one even start with a solution? How does one bridge the gap between how to "practically" better society, and how to show society Jesus?

Tonight at a concert a Jesus loving young man said (in effect): it doesn't matter what society or weird culture you're from or associate with. We are a set apart people. We are supposed to be in the world, not of the world. I needed those words like a long drank to a parched throat. Laying all the problems of society aside and all the research that says it knows how to fix society aside, I have to remember I have more to offer than this world ever could, and that's Jesus. He's the ultimate fix to everything.

But this leaves me stumped! To what extent is it our duty to right the wrongs of society and culture? To what extent is it our duty to try to eliminate poverty and discrimination and hurt and violence? We must pray but is there more?
I'm glad I was brought back to the ultimate hope of this world. It's like a burden removed. But I want to know my duty. I want to know what I should be about in this world. I know there are wrongs, I want to right them, but how?

(insight is welcomed)

2010-10-13T15:41:00.001-07:00

Pray for Mexico.

Joy

2010-09-02T21:38:00.000-07:00

This video was sent to me the other day and completely and thoroughly described the attitude of my heart right now. It was like God sent this video to me neatly packaged with a note that read, "I know how you feel, I just want you to channel your emotions in this way".

How beautiful the sadness of these cords. How remarkably real they make the expression of joy, REAL joy that is a choice more than a feeling. Let the words and tones soak into your heart. soul. deep. way down.

How I praise God! Praise God that he never leaves our hearts undone but continues to mend, break, strengthen, and bless.

2010-08-25T21:31:00.000-07:00

I miss it. Will it always be this way? Am I forever selfish and filled with self-pity? Is it forever what I talk about, missing there missing that. I don’t want to go around in circles or is this just normal, normal of one who has a big enough existence in a different country to feel split up twenty four seven? Someone please tell me I’m normal, or tell me to shut up. It’s the constant comparison, the stark difference, and divided loyalties. It’s the blessing I suppose, of having two homes, two families, two cultures, two yous. It means life is fuller. And harder.

I miss him buying a rose for her and making her cry. It was her birthday and it was a simple gesture, the roses smelled funny and we bought them on the side of the rode. But it was special and I couldn’t help but think, what a precious friend. He even went to the trouble of hiding them in her car and to see the smile of satisfaction on his face, just happy to make her happy, his friend, reminded me somehow of the Highest Love I know so well.

I miss the smoke, thick thick thick that it made my eyes sting and my contacts fog up but it was worth it. And then going home and taking off clothes that still smell but a odor that passed from being repulsive to dear because it represents those memories. Oh and the beer and tequila and plastic cups and loud music and laughter and white, undecorated walls of the house and standing out on the porch and feeling a closeness, friendships very much tangible and looking out over the city lights and laughing about some joke that I really didn’t understand about a red light really far away and just laughing because they were and it felt good.

I miss the rooster crowing and his grandma that never grows weary and is the best example or service I’ve seen in my life. Her enchiladas are incomparable and spicy and chased down by a coffee, de hoya if we were lucky and if we were out, just Nescafe but it still hit the spot. And then we would go see family and sit in hammocks and eat peaches and drink tequila with lime and Squirt and pass the evening away swinging gently in the very air of contentedness. Or we would see that precious couple and enjoy four precious hours of conversation because two beautiful boys were asleep and oblivious to the interruption they could have caused. It was eating pan dulce and hearing stories about crossing the boarder and about the sickness of jealousy and seeing real love. Such a connection I remember, that a couple I barely knew, relatives that I will soon acquire, seemed the dearest people I have ever met, so much so that I wanted to hug them and do everything in my will power to make sure their lives were blessed and rich and happy forever.

Its not being able to go on because the ache is physically felt underneath my skin somewhere between the bone and muscle where there must be soul coursing through my blood, maybe just as fast as the tears down my cheeks.

I miss it. God, I miss it.

Thank you GOD that I have it so I can miss it.

2010-06-18T07:13:00.000-07:00

I wish sweet moments were tangible. Is that selfish of me? I've had this concept rolling around in my mind for quite some time and it finally came together the other day when I was laying on a floatie thing in a pool. It was such a sweet moment and I knew it wasn't going to last for long. It was a hot day, a dear friend and I were enjoying a friend's pool and both lying side by side floating about on our little floating mattresses. Pretty soon we got to watching the sky because there were massive clouds boiling up just above the tree line. One mass was headed straight up and was billowing larger and larger almost like a cauliflower growing on fast forward. Our eyes were transfixed on the sight because literally the cloud was growing every second, changing shapes so fast that we could only shout out different forms that we saw, a mitten, two profiles, a donut, a kissing couple. I almost felt like I was in the IMAX theater watching a film on earth and sky but this was infinitely better, like times 10 better. And then it began to thunder as we sat there watching the growing cauliflower clouds rumble and swell and turn darker. The sun went away and we were left floating silently on the pool, in that hushed moment before a summer storm where the air still swelters from the sun now gone but holds a the promise of a cooler breeze and all nature seems to tremble a bit at the ominous sky. It was such a sweet moment! Lying on a floatie in a tranquil pool, next to a very dear person, watching a storm form on the horizon. Oh I wanted to capture the moment so bad! Even talking about it again makes me heart ache in a good way, and so that's how I got to thinking, if only sweet moments were tangible, where we could hug them, grasp them in our sweaty palms, swallow them and taste their goodness. But instead they are fleeting and leave us only with a good memory and if we're lucky, someone that shared that sweet experience too and doesn't have to be told in words how wonderful it is, they only have to be reminded and then can share the understanding of the sweetness by a smile or a knowing nod. Perhaps that is the only way we are able to touch those sweet moments, it's by sharing it with another human being who shared the moment too.

I've been so selfish lately. I've reduced this dear existence to rote actions carried out without much thought, without much awareness to my huge God that's carrying me through them. I don't know how but I realized this last night and ache to think of how much I've missed. How dare I live as if I was just another human being? I have so much to share! I have so much to say! I have so much to be thankful for! How dare I see one more person, whether it be for a second or for a day and not lavish all the tremendous love that's been lavished on me on THEM!? How dare I not notice even the slightest breeze or tiniest flower and give thanks! How dare I go another day forgetting about this incredible book where I am encouraged, challenged and comforted by the very words of God?
Stop being ordinary, self! Time is not long enough for that. Stop being lazy! Too many people are hurting for that. And most of all, God is too good to go one day mindless of His love.

2010-05-07T22:05:00.000-07:00

Well, this semester of school is over. I feel like I barely got past it, like when you hold your breath to dive down to touch the bottom of a pool and come kicking back up, every inch of your body fighting to get where you can suck in a breath of oxygen.
So now it's past and conquered and I celebrated by driving to my parents house to spend a couple of days in cherished solitude at the base of mountain looking out toward another with a waving field of grass in between. It's been good for the soul. Life's so rich, you know? I've gotten so wrapped up in the technicalities of schedules and deadlines and to-do lists that I nearly forgot how it felt to feel close to God, like feeling the wind on your skin. When I spend time in nature our busy human lives seem so silly. The trees and the mountains and the leaves and the rivers and the rocks all remain in this regal silence--in peace. They're sustained and content just because He's God.
Also when I was driving home my mind was wandering, how it always does, to the future and wondering what great things await. Will I write another book? Will I go to another country? Will I have a big house full of children from different countries, homes, places, backgrounds, pains? Will I have horses? Whatever is in store, I feel like things are beginning to take shape because I'm beginning to realize the huge ways I've been blessed and how I can directly take those blessings and turn them into tools to reach out to hurting people. I want to make the people that don't feel at home in this country feel at home. I want to make people realize the plight of immigrants (and illegal ones) and not just view them as numbers or nuisances but people with stories and pasts of hurt and suffering and want. I want to make a middle school student feel like the most important person in the world. I want to invite people to our house in the woods and let them feel God close in the bird calls, the sunsets, the fierce wind, the ear-splitting silence. I want to take the resources I have and make a safe-haven for children to come and feel at home and experience what life is like with loving parents. I want to provide the experience of feeling a horses's soft warm muzzle on your neck and a strong body holding you up to those who haven't been able to trust before.

"From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked." Luke 12:48

I can't get that verse out of my head. Ok, Lord, I'm more than happy. After what you've done.......

Pieces of Sleet

2010-03-20T17:34:00.000-07:00

It snowed today and it's March 20th. Oh Arkansas. I was sitting in my car with a dear friend after a trip to the store and it was sleeting and snowing hard. It's been twice now that we've sat in the car after arriving at the house. Instead of getting out and rushing inside we take a few minutes to sit and breath and look out the windshield at a still world. It seems to promote good conversation. And inspired thoughts. We had some good conversation and then I lost myself in thinking about the tiny bits of sleet hitting the windshield because as time passed I realized that the sleet was accumulating and slowing growing up the glass. The specs of sleet were nearly microscopic as they hit, half way melted, and slid down the glass. But as they slid their merry way down, they tended to bump into each other and then arrive at a smaller clump near the bottom where they joined, fell a bit, and then settled into place. My friend said it looked like Tetris. So I got to thinking, as I watched the icey-ness grow and creep up my windshield, that individually these pieces were so miniscule and insignificant. But together after a while those little pieces of insignificant sleet cover whole patches of grass and sidewalks and roads and cause huge impacts on life! Then I was thinking, well, I guess I need to stop thinking small things are insignificant, or that I'm insignificant. If one will just wait, they will see huge impacts.
How cool of God--I swear, He's the coolest ever! For instance He could've chosen to just dump snow on us in one big heap. Yeah, open the clouds, and 5 inches just come plunging down and plaster everything. One minute everything would be normal and then the next, there'd be this big cloud of snow and poof! Well....we have 5 inches now. Everyone would have to go running and take shelter. They would probably would try unsuccessfully to drive or shovel too because just imagine! Falling that far, I think it would pack pretty hard.
But no, God chose to send it down one tiny piece at a time, falling silently, building, building until after hours, days we find ourselves in a wonderland of white.
Things take time, they sure do. But afterwards, such beautiful results await us.

quiero ser el corazón que tu buscas

2010-02-17T22:11:00.000-08:00

oh songs in the night.

gosh i was wondering if i was ever going to get the feeling to write again but it's coming back, creeping upon me just like the season creeps upon us in such miniscule ways that all of a sudden we look up and feel the warmer air and hear the birds.

Jesus never stops working with the human heart, thankfully. for so long it seems I have felt empty, lifeless, unable to squeeze even a small amount of happiness out of mundane, bittersweet life. But I wonder now if I was just squeezing my eyes shut and refusing to look, refusing to let my face be lifted by that kind hand. Just today the sun was out and I raised up my face to feel the warmth. It made me smile. Just now I was drinking hot chocolate. I was nearly to the bottom of the cup and swirled it a bit to see the darker, more pure chocolate had settled to the bottom. It made a beautiful color, mixing with the lighter color in a graceful pattern. Just that, it made me think of Jesus. It's so nice to notice the little things again. Am I crazy? Or am I just opening up my eyes again to my Savior after wanting to shut him out for the past couple weeks? Just now I was listening to a song and found it described impeccably the heart of a woman. It was talking about things like: I want to dance, I want to see the sunrise, I want to feel ok, I want to be the heart you search for. It described me and you know what is absolutely fantastic everyone? I find that yearning in my heart fulfilled by Jesus. Take it or leave it but don't, please don't, pass it up without knowing for sure. I have this funny feeling you might never walk away dissatisfied.

It seems like lately people have just been falling short for me. Hmm, maybe it's because they always will and were never meant to be our perfect sustenance. They are precious, my heart bursts with love for them, especially one, but oh let me tell you, there isn't a single thing that will fill that ache but the One that made it. Well why did He have to go and do that? Create us with all this longing and pain? I don't know but it drives us to Him, and that is good. It is so good. It's security, people, a good kind of hope that will never let us down.

The other day I received a letter from a 8 year old in Colombia. (South America that is). He thanked me for stickers and being interested in his life.

Yesterday I received an email from a precious girl from Venezuela that at the end said it was nice to have a friend.

Monday I received a smile from a wise, very passionate old man. It was the kind that crinkles up the eyes so much that the wrinkles swallow them.

When I get this love from up above, it makes it bearable to reach out. For no return. Even if those people never give us back a single ounce of the stuff we poured out to them. I can't ever forget this.

Does this post sound like all my others? Mmm maybe but.....I aspire to learn quicker someday.

2010-01-27T22:42:00.000-08:00

Sleep, don't weep, my sweet love
Your face is all wet and your day was rough
So do what you must do to find yourself
Wear another shoe, or paint my shelf
Those times that I was broke, and you stood strong
I think I found a place where I...

Sleep, don't weep, my sweet love
Your face it's all wet 'cause our days were rough
So do what you must do to fill that hole
Wear another shoe to comfort the soul
Those times that I was broke, and you stood strong
I think I found a place where I feel I will belong

It's so true. I was broke--he stood strong. I've found the place where I belong.

Thank you Jesus for him.

Thank you Jesus.

I love you.

2010-01-20T22:10:00.000-08:00

I feel so romantic when my lights are off in my room and I'm holed up in the corner where I can hear the rain--that sound unmistakable and incomparable as its cadence plays out of the roof, on the concrete, on the grass, on the leaves. It's such a feeling that the emotions and thoughts flow like few other times. I feel so alive in moments like these. Like a great adventure could be awaiting me.

I love the rain.

It makes me feel warm inside because it reminds me of past memories of hurt and healing, all so dear to my heart now. Like little colorful tiles spanning a beautiful wall.

My heart was reminded of miracles today--especially in forms of tiny human beings that are brought forth from inside a dark, lonely place into this incredible world. I got to witness that today. It reminded me of me, how infant-like I am sometimes, so squirming and helpless and crying until tears push out between lids tightly shut. It makes me think of that place, in His word to us,

No one looked on you with pity or had compassion enough to do any of these things for you. Rather, you were thrown out into the open field, for on the day you were born you were despised.Then I passed by and saw you kicking about in your blood, and as you lay there in your blood I said to you, "Live!" I made you grow like a plant of the field. You grew up and developed and became the most beautiful of jewels. Ezekiel 16:5-7

Maybe that's a little graphic for you but sometimes life is graphic, sometimes things are just ugly, but you know what? Sometimes they are even more beautiful. Even when I was squirming around in my own mess He looked at me and said, "Live!", and I have. I do. I will. Maybe no one else would have pitied me or called me beautiful or had compassion on me, but HE did.

Now may I turn and have compassion on those who were "thrown out", who were "despised", who "no one had pity or compassion for".

Let me do it, Lord.

Miracles today, then thunderstorms. It was a blessed day.

Here or There

2010-01-17T08:32:00.000-08:00

Back in the U.S. after a month in Mexico, there's a lot in my head. I saw a lot of God there, in great spanning cities, a man whose love for me reminds me of Jesus, and precious children with dirty faces. But I saw God even more when I got home, funny as it is to me. Perhaps it wasn't one of those awe-inspiring, giddy-feeling glimpses, it was more of the painfully sweet glimpses where you have to get off your high horse and admit you're wrong. Mostly because not 24 hours after I got home I was confronted with some big things and later asked for this act of obedience that had my hands trembling and my stomach feeling sick. I was confronted with a lot when I got home and part of that was the truth I read via one humble person's blog. It made me question a lot and struggle with why I'm here.

Sometimes I feel like God just broke my heart, shattered it into pieces, only to pick me up and plop me down here, far far away from the place and people my heart was shattered for. Why is that? I can't make sense out of it. He won't heal it, he just keeps letting it get broken, broken with longing and hurt, with anger and compassion, with desire and conviction.

Why must I be here when so many are hurting there? Why must I be here when I feel it's not my home and leaves me feeling without place and lost?

Oh but then the truth trickles in if I just listen. Open my stubborn ears and look past the hurt. It trickles in through the wise words of my man, reminding me of who I am and what I stand for and not to belittle what I can do here. If this conviction is true, if the pain I feel for the ones broken and without homes, without love, without a single person that cares--if that passion is true, it should be moving my feet here. Forgive me Lord for viewing my time here or the fact that I am from here as a curse. Let me view it as a blessing. Let me see instead the difference I can make here. In order to do good elsewhere, I must start here. I must let the love of Christ compel me, get my butt off the couch and get my feet stepping quickly.

I MUST NOT let the enemy win me over again, win over my mind, win over my drive, win over my thoughts. I must not let the sluggish greed of this nation blind my eyes to the poverty and hurt and need of those around me. I WILL NOT let it poke holes in my desperation for God, letting laziness and indifference seep in. I will not become satisfied and cold. I think we sometimes view people like Mother Theresa and Francis Chan and C.S Lewis as these special, radical people. Not saying they weren't, but how dare we propose that God only intends some people to be radical. Do you think he sections off a select view and is content with the other to just be hum-drum Christians who never really take their faith seriously? Just live life working and cooking meals and watching t.v.? I don't think I see that anywhere in the Bible. If we only understood the radical love God has for us and every human being on this earth, I don't think we could sit still very long.

This morning I was listening to "Broken" and then "Healed" by Shane and Shane. I was standing at the big window at my parents house, looking out over the pasture and to the mountain beyond. I could feel the cold seeping through the glass. I closed my eyes and could almost feel God, his sweet presence. It made me want to lean forward, face outstretched--you know that feeling when you press forward so hard that all your weight rolls onto your toes and if you leaned a fraction of an inch more you'd topple onto your face? Let's press that much towards God. I think instead of toppling over we'll suddenly hit this incredibly warm chest and these whispers of love.

Please, please let him show you his heart. For you and for orphans and widows, the hungry and destitute, the lonely and hurt, the poor and the ugly, the smelly and the rude, the helpless and the confused. He's a father to the fatherless and a defender of the widows in distress. (Psalms 68:5). He calls us to love as he loves, does he not?

p.s. some of these ideas such as not settling to be anything less than radical were inspired mostly by this girl named katie. you could read her story if you'd like. She lives in Uganda with a bunch of orphans.

Lunch boxes and sunsets

2009-12-05T21:26:00.000-08:00

Hallelujah

You'll make all things new

You'll make all things new.

I was driving home the other day, and it was drive of hope. Those words kept echoing through my head and they still are. It was the kind of drive where you can't help but sing at the top of your lungs the whole way, so despite the fact I was already kinda losing my voice, I belted out the lyrics of some good James Taylor tunes and sped along the narrow windy road that leads through rural towns and past ancient red-sided barns.

I was tempted to be annoyed at the first leg of my journey because two minutes after I set out I realized I was behind a school bus and so every 100 hards I had to break to a stop and for anyone who drives a standard, you can sympathize that this at times can be slightly bothersome. But the farther we went, starting and stopping, the more I began to pay attention to the kids coming off the bus. First it was this kid that thought he was pretty cool with his side swooping hair that half covered his face and his red flannel shirt. He slouched along on the sidewalk and proceeded to put his earphones in while scowling in apparent disinterest at the passing traffic.

The second group of kids that I noticed came a while after. They'd been dropped off a couple minutes before, but still stood clustered near the road in a group of four or five, probably in their early teens. I noticed that one had a cigarette and the others were leaned in close, either to closely observe the spectacular bravery of the one about to inhale, or to get a "light" of their own. I was too far away and going to fast to tell. But my heart felt funny down in the pit of my chest. I wanted to pull off on the side of the road, get out, and run back to them. I wanted to hug them and joke with them and tell them that even though life seemed crappy it was still worth it cause there was Someone real big that loved them.

Then, not long after the line of traffic stopped again with me in the middle, two figures jumped off the bus. One was an older girl, probably sixteen or so, and the other was a little boy who couldn't have been older than five. He wore a big blue jacket and popped out of that bus like his little tennis shoes were on fire. He skipped down the lane toward a run-down, depressed-looking house and then turned to shout something back at the older girl. Her only response was a dull look. My heart ached this time. He was a picture of pure innocence, still so young that he appreciated life and no one could poke a hole in his happiness. The cold was not annoying but invigorating, getting out of school didn't mean homework, it meant freedom, lunch wasn't meant to be bought, it was meant to be swung proudly in an old lunch-box. I wanted to pull off the side of the road again and run and grab him up and protect him from angry parents, or cruel siblings, or a rundown home. I wanted to show him that he never had to let go of that hope that lit his heart that particular afternoon.

So the rest of my drive was poignant with these feelings. But I felt hope as I watched the sun set in my rearview mirror and watched the hills grow gold from it. Because, after all, He makes all things new.

Ramblings, it happens every once in a while......

2009-11-23T23:23:00.000-08:00

So perhaps I should stay up all night. I don't really feel like sleeping. Mondays are exhausting. Not a bad kind for sure but nevertheless exhausting. I always come home feeling like I need another whole day to process. Paradox, anyone? Don't feel like sleeping. Feel exhausted.

There is so much on my mind! I wish I could sort it all out. I have a strange feeling that this will be another rambling confusing post. Don't feel obliged to keep reading......A lot of times I just have to write to get it out.

So. Looking back. Oh dear, the awful past. Well, not so awful. But sometime between the present moment and not more than a week ago I was just beginning to realize how my hand had completely loosened a huge lumpy bundle of baggage and left it lying on the side of the road. (so to speak). The funny thing is, I think I've been telling myself this has happened for quite some time but somehow the handles of the baggage kept getting tangled around my fingers. Just couldn't move on. But now.........hmm.......I feel some lightness. I feel like my feet are actually headed in a specific direction. And I'm not tripping. I've got a pretty good idea what I need to do to keep moving. And that baggage is gone no sireee I'm not going back for it. But wow, did it really take me that long to get over?

Also. (This should've been so clear to me way before this time, but you know how the human brain tends to work kinda slow, not to mention the human heart) I really need to get serious about this prayer business. Have I forgotten the main reason God called me back here was to pray? I've been struggling a lot lately with silly not-so-fun feelings of insecurity but maybe it's because I keep trying to be Shelly and not Audrey. I keep trying to be Beth and not Audrey. Claire and not Audrey. (any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental) I'm not accepting the fact that I'm this strange, quirky, funny, different person THAT GOD MADE. If he wants me to sit at his feet, holed up in my room like a hermit for hours of the day, so be it. Who am I to worry about what others think? What am I thinking to let this get in the way of what God has called me to do? I can't let this get in the way any more. I have to pray more. Earnestly and diligently. (1 Peter 4:7-9). There are so many that need it. This is life or death, people.

One more thing. Actually........there isn't at the moment. But I feel better. I hope you do too.

You know, Jesus is amazing.........

Tea or Coffee

2009-11-20T07:27:00.000-08:00

Random thoughts on the differences between tea and coffee. It must be because I'm still wide awake and it's almost 12 o'clock and instead of being wrapped in warm blankets and tucked in my comfy bed, I am at a coffee shop with loud music blaring in my ear.

On one side of me is a cup of tea.

On the other is a cup of coffee.

Tea is so pure. It's light. It's tasteful, delicate, and gives such a pleasant feeling. It just inspired me to write this blog.

But coffee, oh yes, that bitter dark cup of strong smelling liquid is very different my friend. When I think of coffee for some reason I think of the people who drink it like it's water--just to stay awake or keep warm. I think of truckers or soldiers. I think of stalwart, ebony-souled people (but in a good way).

I wonder which God would drink?

Airports

2009-11-07T22:19:00.000-08:00

There is something about airports.

I was driving to one today and topped a hill to see flashing lights, a setting sun, and a dark silhouette buzzing overhead.

Airports bring such good things.

I was thinking today, have I ever passed through an airport on a routine, mundane mission? Perhaps some people do (I pity them) but as I sort through memories in my head I feel a looming tide of emotion waiting just behind some secret door in my heart, brooding and stirring like an ocean that wants to break through its boundaries. There is something beautiful about those wide open tarmacs and the slow, suspenseful way the planes move that stirs some emotion in my stomach. When I walk through airports I'm always sweetly impatient to be somewhere else. I'm stuck in the middle with no reference point but what's driving me either forward or backward.

Airports bring such bad things.

How many times have I walked through that funny-smelling enclosed thing called a jet-bridge with tears burning my throat and my heart feeling like it's pulling in two? Those times I feel like a zombie and often look listlessly at the rushing people and brightly lit bookstores. There is a weariness in my bones that seems to permeate the physical. Things that shouldn't make me cry bring tears, like the "sky-train" and the customs officer who welcomes me back to the U.S.

Oh airports. I'll be going again soon. Oh dreaded, dear airport. Here I come again.

Yesterday

2009-09-30T07:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I heard a mockingbird. It lives near one corner of the library in a tree I walk by every day. It was singing happily.

Yesterday my soul felt extra alive--As if in the bird's song I could hear it praising the Lord. Even the breeze felt like a hushed whisper of rapture. I sat in the grass yesterday and drank a cold coffee. The green blades poked my legs and the sun beat down on my back. I felt closer to Jesus.

Wake up oh soul! Let the Holy Spirit draw you closer, draw you in, make your being alive.

Yesterday I realized that people are incredible. Every single one. They make me laugh. If you just take the time to appreciate them they open up like a blooming flower and display their specialness. I don't want to take people for granted.

Yesterday I was tempted to despair, to let the emotions of fear and worry and ache take over my soul. But it's not worth it. I'll let God's word be the oil over my wounds and the voice that dispels the vapor in my mind.

Yesterday is gone. Today is new again, propelling me onward.

So, finally:

"Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful." Colossians 3:15

How

2009-08-03T08:26:00.000-07:00

I want to hold kids in Colombia. I want to walk the streets of Mexico. I want to sit by homeless in Guadalajara. I want to have friends in the ghettos, I want to travel to the plateaus of Tibet and learn how to dance with the Nomad women. I want to sit under a tree with people and know it's church. I want to ride on the subway and strike up a conversation with a stranger. I want to play soccer with rowdy little boys on a dusty concrete court. I want to learn another language and experience the joy of communicating to them their way. I want to hold the hands of orphans and kids that have AIDS. I want to smile into dusty faces with eyes that show pain. I want to give all I have for those who have nothing. I want to share the love of Jesus that makes lost ones found. Lord, show me how.

crying out......

2009-07-16T21:07:00.000-07:00

I just got a wake-up call. I just got a beautiful reminder. Prayer! Jesus forgive me for my negligence! Because of some conflict in the house and this something that is wrong with the skin on my legs, my mom and I prayed together tonight. Sounds strange....I know..... But bear with me. So anyway, she started.....and soon it was my "turn" and I felt that feeling coming upon me, that overwhelming feeling when your spirit just gets too full of revealed knowledge and understanding from God that you can't hold it in any longer, and I just started sobbing. I realized I had been neglecting the power of prayer. Once again. Why don't we ever call upon Jesus' name? Why don't we ever take hold of the power that is within our grasp? Why don't we ask the Father for things, knowing He loves to give good gifts to His children, knowing He acts upon the prayers we offer up to Him? So why haven't I prayed like that in weeks, months? It brought my mind back to sweet times in Mexico with the wonderful people I lived with who were so passionate about God. Sometimes we would just all gather together on the floor, united as one for a common cause and begin to call out desperately for the Lord's intervention. And let me tell you, most of the time it wasn't just a prayer of carefully structured sentences let out in a monotone voice as if one was reciting mathematics from memorization. No. A lot of times it was on your knees, rocking back and forth, passionately speaking to the God of the Universe, begging for His answer and His power with tears and sobs.

I started out tonight expecting to pray for the bumps on my legs, realizing in the depths of my heart I just needed to ask for God's healing. But as the words left my mouth, my heart began to wrench with the needs all around me and I felt God pressing on my spirit in that marvelously paradoxical way saying, pray to me for this, and this, and this. My mind flooded with needs. Names of people that needed prayer kept coming into my head. And pray we did. It was the kind of prayer leaving me puffy-eyed and in desperate need of multiple kleenax haha but as I finally said "amen" and lifted my head, I realized how much I missed prayer like that. Together with other people with the same passion and connection with God. I missed bringing requests to God like that and in the midst of delivering them being overwhelmed with the presence of the Spirit and the fervency that He brings to one's heart.

I am not saying every time a believer should pray there should be sobbing and hour long prayer times. But I do wonder some times, I wonder if it was a coincidence that Israel, God's chosen people, the ones who were first the people of God, were culturally known for strong emotion when praying. The Bible talks a lot about "crying out". This often involved wailing. Sobbing. This is foreign to us Americans. But open your heart to the Spirit, and you'll see that sometimes prayer involves "groans too deep for words." (Romans 8:26)

songs in the night

2009-07-04T22:32:00.000-07:00

tonight was the perfect night. i was driving home, feeling the wind in my hair, staring at the moon and watching lightening light up the sky and by the time i got to the gravel road leading to my house, i knew i had to stop. at first, i felt real lonely. i was tempted to let those old feelings of sadness slip over me because i wanted so badly to have that someone by my side. to take my hand. just lie next to me in a peaceful silence. but then God was like, child, i'm all you need. so i smiled and stopped my car on my gravel road and turned it off. silence immediately engulfed me. i knew i'd done the right thing so i climbed onto the back of my car and lay down, facing the moon that was glowing brightly down upon me and casting a soft light on the mountains and fields in my view. the clouds passed slowly across the star-filled sky. on the horizon, behind the dark mountains, i saw lightening. again and again. it flashed and lit the whole sky, illuminating huge, rolling thunderclouds. i let my eyes just focus there, the rest of the vastness stretching out beyond what i could even see, and the tears began to fall. God is so huge. looking at all that, how can i ever doubt he can't handle anything in my life or that of another? he somehow holds all that up there together, and it's almost laughable to compare it to my measly slip of a life. talk about perspective. i had to smile again, even though my heart ached. it's........it's like that one song:

you've got all things suspended

all things connected

nothing was forgotten

cause your love is perfect

you are our healer

you know what's broken

we're not a mystery to you

it never fails, i thought, as i finally pulled myself from the captivating beauty of the still night sky. you just have to stop. you just have to tune in your heart to that grand love displayed all around you. you just have to be quiet. then the love will come.

men cry out under a load of oppression;

they plead for relief from the arm of the powerful

but no one says, 'where is God my maker',

who gives songs in the night...

Job 35:9-10

he gives songs in the night.....stop and listen.

the wispy-ness of life

2009-07-02T16:55:00.000-07:00

I wish I could get all intellectual, but I better not try to be who I'm not so....I suppose I'll just do the only thing I can do....and that's describe.

So......I have a pretty cool announcement. I'm happy! Yeah! For real! Even today it dawned on me, I came into the house from out riding a friend's horse, and I was whistling. It was a lighthearted type of feeling that I experienced. And what's particularly interesting is that not too long ago I started this bible study called the psalms of accent and the writer, Beth Moore, said by the end of this you just might find yourself happy. You know, the church talks a lot about joy and all that, but what about happiness? David actually talks about it quite a bit in the psalms. Is it ok to be just plain old happy? I've never thought about. Cause lately, all I have felt is hurt and longing and sadness. But this little summit, this little peak at the magnificent view, it's filling me with bit of intoxicating happiness. Does not joy come in the morning? Yep, I think so.

Thanks God. You know, He's pretty amazing. And He does do what He says.

2009-02-12T11:46:00.000-08:00

Deep gut-wrenching pain makes the joy that comes later all the more beautiful. What a blessed hope I have that joy will come. Oh the swirling emotions and passions caught up in my heart just now, I breathe and breathe and breathe and feel like I'll never get enough air. I feel like I must start to fly, maybe with tears streaming back against my cheeks, maybe with a grin spread across my cheeks. But thank God for these days, when just the warmth of the sun hitting my neck and cheeks fills me with a quiet peace. When a cup of sweet smelling tea warms the fingers and wafts precious memories through my mind. When stillness and solitude makes me so glad for the people in my life I long for with all my heart. When a lilting melody or a driving passionate song fills my soul with strength and longing, assuring me that God invented music. When the powerful memories of his touch and sweet whispered words reminds me with a enchanting glimpse of the love God intends. When the statement that God doesn't want anything from me, just wants to enjoy me and is delighted when I lean on Him, when that statement becomes something known, the heart lifts and breathes and sighs and says, ok, I can do this.
Oh life full of paradox, can you be so sweet? Can you be so bitter?
Take a minute now and pause. Let God warm up that heart, let Him wipe those tears, and let Him touch that cheek. Embrace what He has given you and rejoice in it.
It makes Him happy.

full circle

2009-01-15T16:41:00.001-08:00

God must laugh at me a lot. Not in a making-fun-of sort of way, of course not, but in a beautiful, endearing sort of way that only God could laugh. It seems just lately that my mind has been so full and this morning I was thinking that I might have just come full circle instead making any headward progress in this so-called journey of learning, changing, becoming more like Him. I'm better for it, no questioning that, but I look sort of shamefacedly at my footsteps and think, gosh, I probably could've avoided that. Well, either way, He's teaching me, molding me, leaning down and picking me back up, all with a smile. Oh Jesus, there's definitely no one like you.
So, love. Four letters. Looks pretty simple. We say, oh yeah, love. In that tone of voice that says, yep, know all about that. But do we really? It is so profound. Do I really even grasp what it means to love, like He asks us to love? What it means to tell someone "I love you" without even waiting for it to be returned? What it means to spend hours laboring over something for someone, knowing full well that no thanks will be given or anything in return? Don't we kind of expect that return, though? We kind of hang on for it, inside we're just aching for it, something to make us feel better and feel justified for dangerously throwing the vulnerability out there and loving. But how about being okay with being vulnerable? How about being okay with being wounded in return? How about being okay with being met with indifference, lack of time, half-heartedness? That's what He did though. We go even farther and stab Him in the back sometimes with how we treat His love. But that doesn't matter, He calls us beloved. Can I love like that?

I want to learn. I desperately want to learn.

2008-12-19T23:06:00.000-08:00

Waiting Room

2008-12-19T22:40:00.000-08:00

i will run when i cannot walk
i will sing when there is no song
i will pray when there is no prayer
i will listen when i cannot hear

sitting in the waiting room of silence
waiting for that still soft voice i know
offering my words up to the rooftop to Your heart
trusting that this closet's where You are

Lord i know if i change my mind
You will change my heart in time
Sovereign Lord this time's from You
so i sit in the waiting room of silence
cause its all about You

i will fight when i cannot feel
i will trust when You dont seem real
i will tell when i cannot speak
i will step when i cannot see

Okay, maybe uncreative to use lyrics, once again....but this is how I feel. Waiting. Trusting God to change my heart in time if I just change my mind and follow Him in faith. Resigning to fight, when I can't feel anything, trust, when He just doesn't seem close. To tell even when I feel so utterly incapable of speaking. That's what I want to do. It's been a journey and as I once again find myself here in the U.S. again, in the little scruffy town of Harrison, Arkansas, I find myself changed--greatly. I'm not the same as I was when I left, and probably for better and for worse. I've learned so much, but I've fallen a lot too so in summary, as I find myself here again (whether I like it or not), I have come to at least one conclusion. First, that I can no longer pull off being the sweet little innocent church girl that all adults look at and go "aww" and rebellious young people look at with a touch of distaste. Maybe upon first glance, but I've stumbled and fell flat on my face way too much for that image now. And I'm glad. I don't think anyone can relate to that person anyway. Now I know what it feels like to frankly have no desire to go to church. I know what it feels like to want to crawl in hole and die. I know what it feels like to be so angry that one must clamp their mouth shut and bite their cheeks as hard as possible to stop a stream of furious, not so pretty words. I know what it's like to see something so unjust and the frustration of not being able to do anything about it. And I know what it feels like after doing something and realizing that at one point in life, you said you would never stoop so low to do that.
Trials are a bitter thing sometimes, because they bring out our worse. Like Job. He cursed God. Like Elijah when Jezebel threatened his life, he told God he was through and wanted to die. However I have come to this point, although at times I've made wrong choices and let the weariness and bitterness and hardness of this world catch up to me, I must say that in some ways, I'm thankful. I'm stripped bare, and though ugly, I'm who I am, not catches, no masks, no fooling. And you know what the most marvelous thing is about all that? God still loves me. I tremble as I write this. How can it be? I have no earthly idea. And I stop and think, why can't I just please Him? Why can't I just obey Him and bring a smile to His face in joy at my obedience and faithful love? And yet I am like wayward Israel, always straying away from the only One who is my good. How desperately I want to live for Him, to stop failing so much and really bring Him pleasure. How I want others around me to see that I am so incredibly far from perfect, I fall so much more than they do. Who am I to be called any more than a miserable sinful wretch. And may they realize that with that humbleness I would love to come along side them and point them toward my merciful Savior which is ready to run and embrace and receive back. That's all I want to do. Reach out my arms perhaps just a little bit like Jesus and comfort those who are hurting, who have felt (probably to even a much stronger degree than me) all those things I described. If I can help at all, Lord use me. It is the least I can do for the love you lavish upon me.

So that leaves me here....living day by day and not missing what He's going to bring along. And trusting. And continuing to love.

2008-10-23T14:10:00.000-07:00

God is good. I know I always say this and I nearly feel ashamed at a lack of better words, but what more can I say? Even though sometimes I feel like my life is a roller coaster and that my faithfulness ebbs and flows like some tricky piece of classical music, God remains steady, like a rock, warm from the sun, and never moving. I can just lie back against Him and rest. He gives me a chance to breath, to soak in heat that energizes. This morning I was reading the 23 Psalm and was amazed. This Psalm is probably the most read and most taken for granted. But for some reason, this morning was different. I tried to take my time, and the tremendous truth just leaped out at me. The first line, I have everything I need. It's so true, and in Spanish, hits me even harder, Nada me faltara. Farther on it talks about how He'll lead me beside quiet streams and in green meadows, and then, He renews my strength. It's so true. Every time I think I can't go on much farther, He allows those times and places that lets our strength be renewed. Then later, Your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me. Amazing! It pursues us. Even if we run it doesn't matter to Him. I find Him incredible. Looking ahead, I'm scared, because He's asking me to do big things, things that in my eyes look impossible. Just like when you ask a horse to jump a log. In their eyes it looks impossible and they refuse. But the rider knows better, and doesn't ask the horse to jump the log because he think it will kill the horse, or the horse will fall. He asks because he knows the horse is fully capable and he also knows that he will guide the horse through it; gently, but firmly, all the way over.

Man, I'm learning and experiencing so much right now. The more I do, the more I run to God. He can fix everything and in Him is the answer to every question. God is love and truth and freedom.

This song describes what I've been thinking beautifully:

"Be Near Me"

I follow all the rules
Well, at least I'm trying
Hoping when my days are through
You'll be pleased

I've lived the longest days
Thinking my heart was so bad
Too scared to look in your face
Oh, if only I had

And is it alright
If I stay here all night
By the shoreline

I cannot believe you are angry or unjust
You've done nothing but have compassion on us
So be near me when I've given up
Be near me

I'm just like everyone else
We are all hiding
Acting like I have a wealth
Of knowledge and peace

But all I've ever wanted
And what men have given their lives for
Is a God who understands my weaknesses
A God that I can love

I believe you are good and righteous
You've given me your reckless love
So be near, be near...

Tan fuerte este amor

2008-10-10T21:21:00.000-07:00

Things have slowed down here a bit, and though I'm glad, it seems like it gives the rest of the strong, tough, painful, yet close the the heart things catch up.
First of all, I'm amazed at God's love. A couple times this past month I wanted to give up. I wanted to go home. I wanted to fall on my face and never get up again. But I'm still here, somehow. I'm still laughing, somehow. I'm still reaching out, somehow. It's His love, it never ends and lifts me up on wings like eagles. He is the lifter up of my head. How I rejoice that I can move forward in this, like He says, you can go through the fire, and I will be with you, the water, and it will not overcome you. I can go through the shadow of the valley of death, but I don't have to fear. How can anyone deny God is real? He comes through every time. I look at His work and amazed. I feel like David, who said, His works are marvelous, how well I know it.

Second of all, I've never known a love so strong for someone else. I realize it must grow and still is very immature and weak and naive. I realize I could be erring in a lot of things, but I can't shake this peace, this God peace that this love is from Him. I know it is. And I know I'm right in loving this someone. And how it grows, and I can't explain it! But it's overwhelming. Ojala que venga pronto el dia en cuando puedo decir y mostrar este amor. Sin limites. Pero hasta que llegue este dia, voy a seguir guardando este amor adentro de mi corazon, esperando con paciencia. Como dice una cancion: este destino me lleva hasta el final.

Thank you Jesus! I continue to trust you in all things, with joy, this unspeakable joy you give that comes from the hope I received in my heart. I know that in the future lies things I cannot even begin to imagine, things unspeakable and greater still.

I love you.

things on my mind..

2008-10-04T21:25:00.000-07:00

She sat holding the girl in her lap, the brown skin cool against her own. There was a slight breeze blowing, enough to stir the dry air and send shivers down her arms. The dropping sun beat down on her back, however, casting warmth inside her body, matching the warmth that seemed to bubble out of her. The small girl in her lap chattered softly, only making sense half the time, but her baby words beautiful to the ears. Suddenly the little girl tilted her head up, her seemingly fathomless eyes gazing up into the green ones of who held her. Their faces brushed, one light, the other dark.
"Cuando puedo venir a tu casa? Este sabado?"
She smiled. "Tal vez...."
"Y..y..." the little one rattled away again, grabbing the white hands of the girl hold her and wrapping her arms tightly around herself.
Smiling to herself, the girl looked back up, once again entering the world around her. A tremendous aching love welled up in her heart for the child on her lap. She had suffered such abuse, such hatred, such pain....to give her even an ounce of love seemed to be the only thing in the world that mattered. Still with her arms wrapped around the child, she began to enjoy the party and laughter, and allowed herself to engage in conversation with those around her. Suddenly, her eyes moved toward the end of the table and caught him gazing at her. Their eyes met for several seconds, and the intensity she found there made her catch her breath. Their was a lot spoken in those dark eyes, so much gone unsaid but fully understood. Quickly after they broke each other's gaze...as if they didn't want to, but were forced to.
After some time, the little girl slid off her lap to go play, her confidence growing a bit as the night wore on. Laughter, pictures, jokes, songs, food carried the time along until the guests began to dwindle and thing grew more relaxed. She stood talking to a friend, and turned around at the sound of giggling. When she turned, the sight she saw pierced her heart and lifted her cheeks at the same time. The little one and her sisters were dancing about him as he sat on the grass wielding a small orange water gun. Their shrill, girly, joyful screams broke through the air and combined with his deep laughter. It was of the first times she had ever seen the girls open up to a man, let alone smile and laugh with squeals of delight. It was a big step. Whether he realized it or not, she wasn't sure--it appeared he was aware of nothing but the shining faces of the girls around him. His own eyes mirrored their joy. They could've played for hours. He was soft and gentle, yet teasing and fun. Finally she turned away, a strange ache in her heart. To love just a little like him....Her eyes blurred and her lips pressed together softly. Jesus, thank you for this love I received, now help me to turn around and love lavishly right back.
Before long, it was time to go, and the girls, though sleepy, protested. By the time their mother got them all rounded up and out the door, it was late. She watched them go and could still feel the thin little arms wrapped around her neck, the smooth dark cheek pressed against her own. Turning from the door, she smiled. He was standing there, and met her gaze boldly.
"Te vas tambien?"
"Si."
Nodding slightly, she leaned forward and gave the cultural goodbye kiss on the cheek. But instinctively she let her arms move across his back in a hug. She felt his arms slip around her waist and hold her tightly, if but for a second. She sensed the tenderness and knew the love the little girls had felt.
"Good night."

Things too big for my heart to contain

2008-08-16T21:16:00.000-07:00

I believe the Lord is challenging us to believe Him. I believe He is asking us to step out in radical faith and stand in who we are in Him, I believe He is waiting for us to ask big things from Him, according to His will. I believe He rejoices to prove Himself mightily on our behalf, not because He has to, but because He delights in us.

This is too big for my heart to hold. I can only fall on my knees and gaze up at Him in awe. Why do I ever worry? Why do I ever doubt Him? I've realized that yes, pain may come, so may suffering that seems to inflict such awful hurt on the heart, but does that mean He's not there? That He's not faithful? No, it doesn't. It merely proves it more as He always comforts amidst pain.

I wanna catch hold of His vision, and not settle for anything less than what He wants to do in this world. I think it's gonna be big.

How can He be so good? I continue to receive this blessing, what more can I do than turn and offer it all back to Him?

Storing up these things....

2008-07-27T21:58:00.000-07:00

There’s no need to say a thing when I’m before you.
In this silence I feel refreshed with peace.
Break this noise that binds the voice that tries to speak.
Open my eyes to see Your gracious, sovereign reach.

It’s hard to talk when I feel that You are near,
When all is quiet it’s the beauty that I hear.
This hidden place where I know that You've calmed my fears.
I know that You’ve washed my tears.

The seasons of change I’ve faced have never left me wounded.
Only scars of hurt, but never deeply rooted.
This healing I have felt, no burden can replace.
Redemptive hope has been the story of my pain.

It’s hard to talk when I feel that You are near,
When all is quiet it’s the beauty that I hear.
This hidden place where I know that You've calmed my fears.
I know that You’ve washed my tears.

All is lost without the breath of life You give, and You give so much.
I want nothing more than You, so here’s my heart

It’s hard to talk when I feel that You are near,
When all is quiet it’s the beauty that I hear.
This hidden place where I know that You've calmed my fears.
I know that You’ve washed my tears.

Heard this song tonight in my car, on the way home from renting a movie. I was driving on our dirt road, slowing down by the second as I listened to the words. My arm was out the window, the air was beginning to cool off as the sun set behind the mountains. When I reached our road, I paused in front of the magnificent view of our little mountains, green as green can be, and standing so majestically and unmoving. The silence was unbelievable, almost as heavy as the humidity wrapping the air around me. Tears sprang to my eyes as they have been so often these past couple days, and the presence of the Lord felt so rich right then. Just like this song, the silence was refreshing peace. I felt like I was standing at the edge of a cliff, and the Lord was beckoning, yet I was fearful. It was like I knew I should jump and that I wanted to, but was so overwhelmed by the height and dizzying beauty, that I couldn't. Oh, Jesus is so good. He is hurting, and healing, working still, but His touch is gentle.

Lately I've felt like Mary....like so much is going on that I just have to sit back quietly and store it all up in my heart. I've been back for almost a week, it will be a week Tuesday, and I don't think I've ever experienced anything quite like this. I feel like an alien in a foreign land that is supposed to be my own. My heart is just aching for a lot of different reasons, but God's right there, but pushing me forward, at the same time letting me rest in His peace. I don't think I realized until I got home the love I feel for the city of Guadalajara and its many many people. When I start thinking of the day I won't go back, whether that be near or far away, a panic rises up in me, and I think: but those people! They need love! They need Jesus! I can't leave them! But God said to me, while I was sitting on our couch, sniffling and feeling like my heart was ripping apart, "Love me." This love you feel for these people is right and needed and from me, but it cannot exceed the love you have for me. You have to love ME the most, no matter what, above nothing else. If I told you not to go back to Guadalajara, you should obey me, and trust me with those people. They ARE mine.
And I know He's right. And so I must act on that. But right now, I just want to sit back, look at this past month, look at today, look at my future, and store up all these things in my life. I have to appreciate each season, each moment and wherever I am, I have to be ALL there. (In the words of Jim Elliot).
Thank you Jesus, for the love I feel wash over me wave upon wave.

....Te pido que me cures esta herida....

2008-06-18T13:43:00.000-07:00

1 Peter 4:19
So then, those who suffer according to God's will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good.

The meaning of suffering? I think I know now.....just a taste I suppose but I know none the less. I think I realize now some paradoxes about God that I still don't really understand but acknowledge. I'm realizing what it means to hang onto something blindly even though everything around me screams to let go. I'm realizing that God takes away, but God gives. I realize He loves by hurting. He challenges in order to open our eyes to who He is. He's jealous. But He's kind. He's not safe, but He's good.
I want to write a story.

She sat against the rickety dresser, her lips parted, eyes averted toward the window where the trees swayed strongly in the wind. Tears streamed down her cheeks, dripped down her chin and onto her chest. If the tears could only cure the pain. She could barely breath, but not because her nose was stuffy. Every time she inhaled she felt like a weight was crushing upon her, suffocating her, smashing her, cutting off her desire to live. She gripped the cold tile floor, making her fingers go white. If not she feared she would bound to her feet, descend the stairs, fly out the door, and walk swiftly down the street without looking back. Who cared where she went? She certainly didn't--just anything to get away from the pain, from the misunderstanding, from the people that stood in her way. She stood and began to pace the small room, just back and forth between the door and the window. She tried to pull breaths between the sobs but they cut like knives against her throat. Her fingers trembled as they covered her damp face.

"Can it just rain? Please let it rain."

She continued to pace, voiced her thoughts out loud, pressed her balled fists against her head. Suddenly there was a strong breeze that pushed through the window and hit her face with force. Then she heard the rain. Without a word she bolted out the door, fumbled desperately at the locked doors and finally ran out into the downpour. The green trees sheltering the sidewalk shook and rattled in the wind. She could see the sheets of rain pounding against the empty road. The street lights stood solitary, their yellowish glow reflected off the rivulets shimmering down the pavement. She was shocked by the cold as the rain pounded upon her hair and t-shirt. It ran down her face, mingling with her tears. The wind beat her forcefully, but she stood firm in the coldness. She stood, shivering, letting the rain drench her. It was at once refreshing and hurtful. Soon her hair was plastered to her face. Her shirt clung to her and she wrapped her arms around herself.
The storm passed quickly, the rain began to subside and the only sound was the rushing water running down the street and the occasional passing car. Cold to her very being, she remained there, unable to stop the trembling that had taken over her body. But inside, she was beginning to calm. The rain grew softer and softer until it touched her face lightly, each droplet a pleasant shock of surprise. She leaned against the cold concrete wall, painted with graffiti. Her toes were slightly submersed in a puddle. She lifted her face to the sky, realizing the rain was just for her.

"Thank you. I love you."

She turned back to enter the house once again, still carrying the agony but not the wild desperation. She wasn't sure how she was going to face another day. She didn't try to stop the tears that streamed anew. But somehow, she knew it was going to be ok.

I trust Him with this. He has my heart. And He's let me give it to another. I think He guided my hands in giving it. And there it will remain in that other's hands. I can wait.

Ruins

2008-05-14T15:44:00.000-07:00

So lately I've been thinking of the incredible impact of mercy. Now I think I understand better in the Bible where it says that those who show mercy will be given mercy. But either way....in the past several weeks I have been broken by mercy and it's something I've observed and tucked away in my heart. I am beginning to wonder if mercy can bring someone closer to surrender than rules, judgment, strictness. I'm not sure, but in my life so far, when I am shown mercy, I just want to give up, throw my hands in the air and surrender to that truth, to the love. My rebellion tells me to hold back, hold onto the bitterness, hold onto the pain. Rebellion brings long term hurt. In the face of regulations, rebellion merely holds it's head higher. But surrender, though painful at first, brings refreshing and faith.In the face of mercy, rebellion breaks. Walls crumble. Better ruins than an insurmountable wall. A tender word, a hug just at the right time, an understanding smile can defeat that stubborn spirit. Much much more than a stern word or a careless reminder of a rule. Did not Paul say that God's kindness leads to repentance? Very true. Every time I finally stop and sit at Jesus' feet, I break down because His love washes over me wave upon wave and I almost want to jump up and scream, "Stop! I don't deserve this!" But He just keeps pouring His unfailing love over me until I throw up my hands and let myself be forgiven.
I want to be like this. There is time for justice, for commandments, for guidelines that need to be followed. But I want to be like Jesus and make walls crumble by incredible kindness, mercy, and love.

I hear the tumult of the raging seas
as your waves and surging tides sweep over me.
But each day the Lord pours his unfailing love upon me,
and through each night I sing his songs,
praying to God who gives me life.

Psalms 42:7-8

That "why" question

2008-04-26T20:14:00.000-07:00

You know that cliche question "why"? I've been asking it a lot. And it's a painful place to be. But at the same time, I find myself smiling at times. Then I stop and think. What if I had those painful questions, but no reason to smile? In this I find hope because it doesn't matter how difficult things get, I have a Rock to lean on.
So I've been learning a lot lately about obedience, holiness, excellence, and fear. A good deal about paradoxes too, and those occasions when nothing makes sense and you feel like collapsing on the floor but a good Someone takes you under the arms and puts you back on your feet.
About obedience: it's a sure example of true love--although difficult, true obedience comes from true love.
About holiness: it's always to be thought of in a positive, white intensity of degree.
About excellence: everything should be done with excellence. Why go half way, three fourths of the way? Go the whole way.
About fear: it's inevitable. It's good, in some ways it's bad. It grips me, and all I can do is hold on to my Rock.

"And the Lord make you to increase and abound in love....to the end He may establish your hearts unblameable in holiness."
1 Thessalonians 3: 12-13

How much do I really love God? If He asked me to pack up this very moment and go home, would I do it, just cause He said so? If He told me sell all I own and move to Uruguay, would I go? If He told me to never get married, would I do it? How I long to be in that place where it doesn't matter what He asks me, I do it cause I am hopeless without Him, utterly dependent on His nearness and care at all times.

Also, why do things have to appear so grey to me at times? It's like trying to look through thick storm clouds and see the sun. Why do I want so often to just stay in the grey, to enjoy the clouds, the obscurity, the coolness, and not move on to the pure, undeniable, unavoidable rays of the sun? Why am I not more logical? Why do I feel that sometimes things are good, and want to enjoy them so badly? Will there be a time for that? To get soaked by the rain? Sometimes I would much more prefer the downpour of passion and strength then to be made pure and clear by the sun. And standing back and looking at these, I wonder, can I have both? Is there a time for the sun and the clouds? I think something is whispering yes......But that something is also strongly suggesting that waiting will be involved.

"I wait quietly for the Lord, for my victory comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will never be shaken." Psalms 62:1-2

My God is kind, tender, slow to anger, rich in lovingkindness, full of truth and justice. He is ever faithful and the same forever.
He is showing me so much. From a sunset full of rich colors, to mother playing with her daughter in a sprinkler, to different languages that express things in a beautifully unknown way, to a gentle, caring touch on the face, God is showing me. He is there, always, ready to make me smile. He amazes me often with this culture here. This culture is full of emotion, and at first although it made me fearful at times, now I am coming to embrace it and realize perhaps the depth of God's passion, reflected through the people here. It's a new glimpse for me.

"Is anyone thirsty? Come and drink--even if you have no money. Come, take your choice of wine or milk--it's all free! Why spend your money on food that does you no good? Listen to me, and you will eat what is good. You will enjoy the finest food. Come to me with your ears wide open. Listen, and you will find life. I will make an everlasting covenant with you. I will give you all the unfailing love I promised...."
Isaiah 55:1-3

Painful thoughts, healing thoughts, heavy thoughts, hopeful thoughts

2008-04-16T13:43:00.000-07:00

It's been since February. And I actually haven't felt like really writing until now. Until today. Everything has built up, more and more, and today I have to let it out. I was attempting to write a poetry explication, and wasn't really getting anything accomplished, and finally thought to myself, I need to write. I was writing before, technically, but not really. Not truly.
Today was a normal day at El Coli where we have an hour long "class" teaching the kids there English, as well as doing crafts with them and just hanging out. But the more I am with them, the more my heart aches. There are two, brother and sister, named Manuel and Lupita, that I have especially come to love. Manuel is around ten years old, skinny, with nearly green eyes (which he denies). He is very mischievous and acts a great deal older than he should. He found out long ago that if he pokes me with his finger in the side, I jump. We usually greet each other with a nod of the head, or a slap of the hands. I think he likes to keep it very cool, but occasionally I'll rub his head or pat his shoulder and he won't object. He seems very hard, but actually the shell is brittle and I'm afraid it'll break. But perhaps that would be better than it merely growing stronger and thicker. His sister, Lupita, most be around 7 or 8, and she also enjoys tickling me. While Manuel does call me Audrey, which sounds more like Audree, with a neat roll of the tongue, Lupita calls me Cosquillitas, which means something like the ticklish one. She is very tough, but probably has to be with Manuel and two other older brothers. They fight often and call each other names I won't want to write here. They both, however, still enjoying coloring and doing various crafts, often ordering me to take care of their papers when they go play. I feel like they quietly accept me and soon I would love to ask them if I could meet their family. As I take the liberty at times to stroke their heads, or give them a hug, I shudder. Is it the only time a week they get touched gently? Is it the only time a week they get told they did a good job or that they are pretty or handsome? Then I sit back and watch them interact with the other kids and my heart aches. They yell groserias, they beat up the younger kids, and their little dirty faces sometimes hold such hatred. In one moment they seem like normal children, coloring a Bible story coloring page, then the next thing you know, they lash out in hatred rarely seen between grown adults.
It's all I can do to keep my emotions in check. If it was up to me, I'd throw everything to the side, move in among them and show them as much love as I possibly could. If I don't show them, who will? If I don't tell them of Jesus and His love for them, who will? Please pray for these children. If left to themselves, if left to their parents, if left to that harsh environment, if left to grow up getting harder and more bitter with each passing day....they won't make it. I have to do something. Anything.
I'm not going to stand still.

well....

2008-02-06T20:07:00.001-08:00

Perhaps it is a little lame that I'm replacing my words with others' words. But others do have the gift, and music is so impacting. You won't hear the music now...but you can later. First the words. Jesus, thank you.

He’s the only one
Strong enough to lean
My heaviness against
The weight of all my sin
Falling on a rock
Leaning on a fortress
Oh the wall of God, Jesus
He won’t move

On God I rest
My salvation
My fortress
Shall not be shaken
My mighty rock
And my glorious
I lay my head upon His chest
On God I rest

Oh I am calling out
Oh my soul
Oh my stubborn soul
Won’t you wait on Him
Wait in the quiet
Even in your fear
Oh your God is here, to lean on!
He won’t move

He has spoken
Hear his voice
I have come for the broken
So all ye weary come and rest

Starting anew

2008-01-13T18:31:00.000-08:00

So I'm here. Back in the big city. Is this my home? Sometimes I'd like to think so, other times I feel like an utter stranger, a foreigner, a gringa as I'm often called. The first morning I was here, I sat on our roof and looked out over our neighborhood, our street, our little suburb. And I prayed--it was a beautiful starting point. God's given me a love for this city, whether it will ever feel like my home or not. Yesterday I went paintballing, which was extremely fun, but the best part was talking with three kids there. They were the children of the man who owned the paintballing course. We introduced ourselves to them, learned their names and ages. Then Edgar, the beautiful little boy with huge greenish eyes, squeezed onto the bench beside me and struck up a friendly conversation. His sisters soon joined and we talked for probably 20 minutes. I promptly learned their whole story. They live in Tonola, they have a dog named Manches, they like to ride bycicles, and they come to this park with their dad every saturday and sunday. It was fun and when it was time to leave, they asked if I was coming back the next day. I hope to see them again. My heart swelled as I walked away. Sometimes I think I'm not very good with children, and at times I think others are much more patient with kids. And usually I'm the one standing there awkwardly, while someone else does the perfect thing at the moment that makes the kid break into a huge smile. But this time, I loved it. And I felt like they loved me. We just laughed and talked like we'd known each other all along. This is the kind of ministry I like. They were hungry for love and attention, and I was more than happy to give it. Their names were Monica, Julie, and Edgar.

Also, I have been listening to this song lately, it's a very passionate song, which is my favorite, and it really spoke to me. Sometimes I feel this way, but I know God is doing a work in me and will continue it. If it wasn't for Him--I couldn't do this.

I lie here paralytic
Inside this soul
Screaming for you till my throat is numb
I wanna break out I need a way out
I don’t believe that it’s gotta be this way
The worst is the waiting
In this womb I’m suffocating

Feel your presence filling up my lungs with oxygen
I take you in
I’ve died

Rebirthing now
I wanna live for love wanna live for you and me
Breathe for the first time now
I come alive somehow
Rebirthing now
I Wanna live my life wanna give you everything
Breathe for the first time now
I come alive somehow

I lie here lifeless
In this cocoon
Shedding my skin cause
I’m ready to
I wanna break out
I found a way out
I don’t believe that it’s gotta be this way
The worst is the waiting
In this womb I’m suffocating

Bridge:
Tell me when I’m gonna live again
Tell me when I’m gonna breathe you in
Tell me when I’m gonna feel inside
Tell me when I’m gonna feel alive

Tell me when I’m gonna live again
Tell me when this fear will end
Tell me when I’m gonna feel inside
Tell me when I’ll feel alive

Almost time to go "home".....

2007-12-29T13:59:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking, lately, alot. Most of the time, my thoughts are all in a jumble so they usually come out in even more of a jumble. Since I've been with alot of amazing people over the past couple of weeks, I've learned alot and just being able to not do much has allowed me to look back over the past semester and look inside at what's going on inside of me, and look up and ponder what God's doing. It's amazing how much one can realize after stepping away from what's been going on for a while.
Something happened yesterday that summarized in many ways how my life's been this past semester. It happened when I went out to visit my old horse, Never Forever. His new owner is having problems with him and so I went over to lend a hand and mind. When I got there, his owner wasn't there yet, but I saw Never out in the pasture so I went out to see him. I know he recognized me, and I went to the fence and blew in his nostrils, greeting him and stroking him. Eventually I went back out to the driveway to make sure I hadn't missed the owner arriving, and I hadn't, but when I turned around, I saw that he'd followed me and was now regarding me curiously from behind the fence. Smiling, I climbed quickly over the bars and gave him a hug and stayed by his side while he smelled me all over. Finally, he turned, as if bored, and began to walk away. Generally it's best not to allow a horse to walk away, just as it is best to make them respect your personal space. I put my arms around his neck and shoulders and stopped him (not without difficulty--he's a big horse). He obeyed, but rather grudgingly. I continued petting him and within a few seconds, he started away again. I stopped him once again and this time he pushed against me, pushing me back a few steps, but I eventually got him stopped. I could feel his tenseness and I could tell he was irritated. Then I let him go, and he took off, at a gallop, bucking and clearly saying he did NOT like being restrained. Within a few minutes, he settled down and walked a few steps back towards me and then stopped, gazing at me with a kind of aloof curiousity. And I was struck with a sadness because he was telling me that he wanted to keep his distance from me, he was choosing to be away from me rather than by my side. And then it hit me like ton of bricks. What had just happened pefectly depicted what has happened between my and the Lord. I was just like that silly rebellious horse. And it was like God said "Did you feel that sadness? That's how I feel when YOU run." I realized that just like I had only good in mind with Never, God never intends anything but my good, He knows best and He wants to keep me by His side and love me. But I have been like Never, I've rebelled, I've thought I knew better and I chose to be away, by myself rather than by His side. Wow. And then I thought, thank you God, He is ever faithful to speak to us in terms that we will understand. First He let me experience that, then He showed me the truth. Thank you Jesus, for taking me back even when I don't deserve it.
Then, what's more, I've just realized how much God is at work and how perfectly His will works out. When I come to this understanding, it makes me love Him all the more and look forward in eager expectation to what He's going to do. And also, one thing that I need to work on so much is abiding. Yesterday I was talking to a dear friend and she mentioned abiding and what it means--keeping the line of communication open between you and God, always being aware of His presence and voice--and I was challenged. I shudder to think of how much I've missed these past four month by just being totally ignorant, oblivious, and rebellious. Now I shall notice every flower, every stooped old man, every cloud, and every written word. He's there, He's real, and He speaks.

Being home

2007-12-04T19:24:00.000-08:00

I've been home for three days now and I have suprised myself by seriously considering that it would be good to go back home and I have EVEN called Mexico my home when talking to my mom, which was probably not a good idea. But the more I'm here the more I realize how much there that I love so much. Perhaps I am just being selfish, perhaps not. How I pray I'll know soon, because I feel like there is a struggle going on within me right now, one that I don't know quite how to remedy and one that is making me feel torn between two worlds. If I could only have both at one time...
Enough about me, can I just say that God is good, so awesome and wonderful and every day I wonder more where I would be if it wasn't for His redeeming love.

A ramble

2007-11-13T10:30:00.000-08:00

Well....there are alot of things I could talk about right now but I will try to narrow it down to just a few right now. First of all I'm pretty sure that I could be a missionary in Asia, if God wanted me to. Sunday night I spent like three hours with four Korean students (and a German too) and it was the most fun I've had in a long time. It also made me wish I could live with a Mexican family. All four of them do, and it was fun interacting with the kids, and seeing the houses decorated for Christmas, seeing the sink filled with dishes, and how one house had an amazing, narrow spiraling staircase that led up to the second story where there was a small balcony looking over the quiet, dusky neighborhood. I could've stayed there forever, my romantic side was quite happy. But it was fun seeing the guys and girls busy cooking in the little cocina, talking in Korean so I couldn't understand at all. Koreans are very real and simple I think. They laugh easily and don't seem complicated and could easily convince anyone of their innocence, though that conception may or not be true. The evening was so refreshing, I rode a bike, ate a weird tasting leaf, painted my nails black, and put one of the girl's hair in a messy bun. Not to mention laughed till my stomach hurt and carried on countless conversations in Spanish. I'm so sad that I won't be taking classes five days a week four hours a day with them anymore. But I think we'll keep in touch. Now they get to come over and have hamburgers.

The second thing on my mind is a sermon I listened to yesterday. I'm not sure why I finally decided to listen to one, because I've known for a long time that I really needed to, but when I finally did, it was like a breath of fresh air. I listened to Keith Green, which was neat too cause I personally admire him and to actually hear his voice and hear a sermon from him was exciting. I wasn't sure how I was going to like it because sometimes you will like a person when you read their words, but when you hear them speaking your deeply disappointed. (that would be the case with anyone who read my words, then listened to me talk). But I nearly like his speaking better than what I'd read, and he spoke about Devotion vs. Devotions. It was convicting. It really made me think. If you can't do something without doing it in devotion to God, then you shouldn't do it. Whoa! All things are lawful but not all are profitable. So does that mean that if I can't soccer (for example) and do it in devotion to God, does that mean I shouldn't play? Very interesting. I am pondering about it and as I write this I am deciding that I think I need to listen to the sermon again.
Also, I think I've decided that exclamation points ( ! ) are annoying and cheesy and I will not use them in writing at all except in dialogue.
But enough about me. Glory to God, (and I mean that) because honestly, I'd be so lost without Him.

Mexico

2007-10-28T10:19:00.000-07:00

Ever since I stepped into the stuffy, deserted aiport at Los Mochis, Mexico when I was about 13, my heart was lost to the people there. I love them. I love how they talk, how they laugh, how they are so simple and humble. I love how they invite strangers into their homes and scramble to find chairs for their guests. I love how they kiss you on the cheek as a greeting and lift their voices loud in song to their Savior. I love how pedestrians do NOT have the right of way on any street, and how old men help you park at Wal-Mart. I love how animated they are and how they are content with almost nothing. I love how the children play soccer. I love the heat of the days and the coolness of the nights. I love the smell of burning sugar cane and the dusty, wide streets littered with trash. I love the strange, spicy candy and the small dusty feet of all the children. I love the people. And they need Jesus.
God has called me to this place in Mexico for this time.
Please pray for me, that I'll accomplish His will every day, and lose myself with serving others. Please pray that people will come to know Him, the One and Only.
This is what I wrote before leaving for six weeks in Los Mochis, Sinaloa, Mexico in May. As I look back at this I agree wholeheartedly and feel even more strongly that I was made for these people. Yes, I will go where God wants, whether that means Asia or Alaska, but I just can't shake the feeling that He made me the way I am for a reason. Mexico is like home to me in more ways than I can count. Simple things, silly things, just like how they express themselves, to huge things like their values and culture, I love it. It's rather hard to explain to others, but sometimes I look at myself and wonder why I wasn't a Mexican in the first place. Only God knows, but I accept what I am now, but I know one thing will never change, the people of Mexico are my true family. Sometimes I feel selfish, because it seems like the mission field should be difficult. But the more I'm around the people here, I more at home I feel. Shouldn't it be the other way around? And then I wonder that if, in time, I will get tired of this culture and long for my own. Someday will I get frustrated with their ways, their language, their attitude? I don't know. But right now, I thank God because today I am where I want to be and I'm loving it.

Time

2007-10-19T12:02:00.000-07:00

It's been rather interesting lately how I've come to the breaking point but never broke. Like today, for example, (and there are many others) I was stressed and tired and feeling sick and I frankly didn't want to face the day. But I did, and I was begging God to help me, though I was thinking to myself that it seemed impossible. And all the while I was also thinking that I must be some heathen of a Christian, because I have Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, so how dare I feel anything but powerful and happy all the time? So as the day went on, things got a little better and I think I began to realize that I COULD do it. When I got home from school about an hour ago, I found out that the two things I had to do today were canceled. I couldn't believe it. I don't think I even asked the Lord to give me this day as a free day, I just somehow buckled down and told myself to deal with it. But no, in His infinite compassion, He gave me this sweet gift of time. A whole afternoon! This may sound cheesy, but living the life on a missionary and student is not that easy. The week is full and when the weekends become full and all you have to look foward to is a few hours on a Sunday afternoon for doing nothing, it becomes daunting. But does God ever disappoint? Does God ever fail? No. Does He withhold His grace when we doubt Him? No.
Thinking on this makes me so amazed, and what's even more astounding is that this hasn't just happened once or twice. It's happened alot, every time I think I can't go any further. Why do I ever doubt Him?
It makes me wonder how I ever did without God in the first place. I am utterly dependent on Him, yet in the dependency there is such freedom, because He holds you up and you can carry on in such joy because no worries have to pull you down.

Wow, this is a first

2007-10-17T18:15:00.000-07:00

I want this post to be good because it's my first, but as I write this, I realize it probably won't be, because I'm pretty much writing it just so that my blog will actually have a blog. What does a person write on their first blog? I'm clueless. I'm breaking the ice. So here it goes.........