Just as soon as my floor was beginning to show signs of tidiness, the time for packing for camp arrived.
Tomorrow... tomorrow I'm at Camp. And I'll stay there for five-six weeks. And as I dashed here to there, helter-skelter, while trying to procrastinate, while also trying to get done the random chores that needed to get done before I left, I began to worry.
Being in charge of a cabin of girls different ages throughout the weeks has me scared. I want to make sure that I am adequately prepared. To make sure that I don't forget anything that might or might not be necessary. And so I frantically prepared my checklist, buried my floor in things, and crammed things into my suitcases.
A headache started to develop and as I logged out of FB for probably the fifteenth time today (best place to procrastinate, yes?), I looked out the window.
The sunset caught me by surprise. I hadn't really had time to sit down and pause today, although I did take time to fulfill my Christmas gift to Boo (taking her and a friend out to the Tea House to have tea and dessert) and go on a bike ride with my best friend.
And as I looked out on that sun streaked sky, I realized that in my rush to prepare myself in every way possible, I was missing out on the best preparation possible.... humbleness.
I had pushed aside His will for me in these upcoming wills and imposed my own. My own of impossible strength, wisdom and courage to get me through the tough times. Thinking that just purely by my will, everything will turn out just right and I will become the most successful cabin leader that ever lived.
No.
That is not the way that it should be. At all. What if He chooses to bring me to unsurmountable obstacles in order to break me, mend me and bring me through a better person? What if He puts an impossible camper in my path who causes me to lose my temper and be lost for answers in order to cause me to seek Him more passionately? What if He seems far away and I find myself scrabbling against the seemingly iron walls of feeling Him while I pray? What if?
I don't like feeling weak. And especially after all that's gone on this week with graduation, it's easy to look at myself and say, "Hey. I'm pretty great. I got all these awards. I'm a pretty sweet person, and I should be able to handle any of this pretty easily. This is going to be a breeze."
Guess what's speaking? Pride. That's what.
Instead, my words should be: "Daddy? I don't think that I can do this. But I know that you can. Would you move in me and through me, showing Your glory in what happens in these next few weeks? Help me to be ask weak as possible in order to show Your strength to the fullest. I need You. I can't do it on my own."
Please pray for me. This is going to be a constant struggle.
On another note, I may be able to blog once in awhile at Camp (on weekends), depending on internet availability or time, but don't depend on it. And those of you who just read my blog through FB, I might not be able to/have time to link it, so you can follow through either your Google, Yahoo, Twitter, or e-mail account. {I would also like you to just plain follow me, regardless of my ability to link or not. It's pretty cool to see who all is interested in what goes on in my life. Is it proud to say that I did a little happy dance when I reached double digits? ;)}
Saturday, June 30
In Your Tears
I knew you were going to cry before I saw the actual welling up in your eyes. Your big grey-blue eyes became shimmery, then outright damp, then you crossed your hands over your knees so that no one could see your tears.
You had just laid it in the box. That robin so full of life had drooped its head, and we all knew but didn't want to say it. A few minutes before you had peeked your head around the entryway, beckoning to Mom to come and see something, with that serious look in your face.
With all the noise of birthday celebrations in the background, you held the bird with a cocked wing in your hands, a glow in your eyes.
Although you torment us siblings at times, you have an amazing ability for compassion and kindness to animals. They are your heart siblings in some way, because you come alive when you're around them. I've sometimes wondered what kind of vet you would make.
So you and Mom discussed what to do with it, and when you loosened your grip, it tried to flutter away. Moments later, I looked back and all I saw was the body once again encased by your hands and the droopy head, no life seeming evident in its body.
You stood there a moment, taking in the fact that the bird was now dead. Then, you laid it in the box and rejoined the celebrations. Your tears came soon afterwards and it didn't take very long until Mom came over and asked you whether you wanted to bury it now or wait and see if it might still be alive. You said, in a tear-cracked voice, "Wait." It was all you could choke out.
Eventually, you escaped to your room. I followed you.
You cry like me, little buddy. Silent upheavals and tears coursing down cheeks, trying to make as little sound as possible. I sat there rubbing your back and then got you to explain your Lego Ninjago online game to me.
Soon you were alright. But that glimpse into your heart, the one often disposed to gaiety and jokes, but rooted deep in soft-heartedness, was wonderful.
I am so proud of you for crying, for having that softer, more solemn side, and I am so blessed that you are my little brother.
You had just laid it in the box. That robin so full of life had drooped its head, and we all knew but didn't want to say it. A few minutes before you had peeked your head around the entryway, beckoning to Mom to come and see something, with that serious look in your face.
With all the noise of birthday celebrations in the background, you held the bird with a cocked wing in your hands, a glow in your eyes.
Although you torment us siblings at times, you have an amazing ability for compassion and kindness to animals. They are your heart siblings in some way, because you come alive when you're around them. I've sometimes wondered what kind of vet you would make.
So you and Mom discussed what to do with it, and when you loosened your grip, it tried to flutter away. Moments later, I looked back and all I saw was the body once again encased by your hands and the droopy head, no life seeming evident in its body.
You stood there a moment, taking in the fact that the bird was now dead. Then, you laid it in the box and rejoined the celebrations. Your tears came soon afterwards and it didn't take very long until Mom came over and asked you whether you wanted to bury it now or wait and see if it might still be alive. You said, in a tear-cracked voice, "Wait." It was all you could choke out.
Eventually, you escaped to your room. I followed you.
You cry like me, little buddy. Silent upheavals and tears coursing down cheeks, trying to make as little sound as possible. I sat there rubbing your back and then got you to explain your Lego Ninjago online game to me.
Soon you were alright. But that glimpse into your heart, the one often disposed to gaiety and jokes, but rooted deep in soft-heartedness, was wonderful.
I am so proud of you for crying, for having that softer, more solemn side, and I am so blessed that you are my little brother.
Friday, June 29
In These Lasts
It's been forever since I've blogged, and I apologize. Life has been twirling on its pinwheel stick, never really going anywhere, but yet seeming like it's going in dizzying circles.
But in this season of lasts, as so many thing wrap up, while so many are just beginning to unfold, He is here. And as I face this summer, with a successful graduation behind me, there's only one thing running through my head. If the past few days were a slideshow, this would be the background song.
This song has permeated everything that I've felt, even though it's all bottled up inside and I haven't had time to process and think everything through. It's going to take awhile to sort through it all, to cry a bit, to make some promises, to scrapbook it all, etc.
But even as I listen to this song play as I write this, my eyes fill and shivers run up and down my back and I smile to myself. I regret to say that with all the busyness, I haven't attended to meeting with Him as much as I should have, but my relationship with Him, although strengthened by daily communion, is not defined by this ritual. Rather, He's been here the entire time.. and right now.
He was there when I finished my last of work, when I walked out of my last diploma (Physics 30... yech!), when I stepped out onto that Willy Wonka stage in my blue dress, when I heard S speak words of love and blessing over me, when I walked up to that stage wearing my cap, when I received my diploma, when I was being bestowed with acknowledgements that were unexpected and fulfilling, when walking out of the gym with my tassel flipped to the other side, when meeting with those who love me and have watched me grow to become the person I am today, when opening the gifts and cards that they brought, when being overwhelmed with the blessings bestowed upon me, when boarding the bus with my other classmates, when go karting, paintballing, and bowling until breakfast this morning, when crashing into my bed and sleeping my day way (going to sleep tonight will be interesting), and now as I sit underneath my covers, with my room a mess, so many things to get done, and yet with weariness sitting right behind my eyeballs, with sunshine coming into my window, and now, this song playing.
Because that's all I can do. Worship His holy name. I am not perfect, but He is. And He has brought me through so much to reach this day. I am so incredibly, unbelievably, overwhelmingly, loved by a sovereign God. I am so blessed.
And it's only the end of the beginning.
But in this season of lasts, as so many thing wrap up, while so many are just beginning to unfold, He is here. And as I face this summer, with a successful graduation behind me, there's only one thing running through my head. If the past few days were a slideshow, this would be the background song.
This song has permeated everything that I've felt, even though it's all bottled up inside and I haven't had time to process and think everything through. It's going to take awhile to sort through it all, to cry a bit, to make some promises, to scrapbook it all, etc.
But even as I listen to this song play as I write this, my eyes fill and shivers run up and down my back and I smile to myself. I regret to say that with all the busyness, I haven't attended to meeting with Him as much as I should have, but my relationship with Him, although strengthened by daily communion, is not defined by this ritual. Rather, He's been here the entire time.. and right now.
He was there when I finished my last of work, when I walked out of my last diploma (Physics 30... yech!), when I stepped out onto that Willy Wonka stage in my blue dress, when I heard S speak words of love and blessing over me, when I walked up to that stage wearing my cap, when I received my diploma, when I was being bestowed with acknowledgements that were unexpected and fulfilling, when walking out of the gym with my tassel flipped to the other side, when meeting with those who love me and have watched me grow to become the person I am today, when opening the gifts and cards that they brought, when being overwhelmed with the blessings bestowed upon me, when boarding the bus with my other classmates, when go karting, paintballing, and bowling until breakfast this morning, when crashing into my bed and sleeping my day way (going to sleep tonight will be interesting), and now as I sit underneath my covers, with my room a mess, so many things to get done, and yet with weariness sitting right behind my eyeballs, with sunshine coming into my window, and now, this song playing.
Because that's all I can do. Worship His holy name. I am not perfect, but He is. And He has brought me through so much to reach this day. I am so incredibly, unbelievably, overwhelmingly, loved by a sovereign God. I am so blessed.
And it's only the end of the beginning.
Tuesday, June 19
In My Failure
What do you do when you're on your 20-something hour of work straight (you don't care about counting anymore) (although it did include sleeping, but when you're the person locking up and listening for anything throughout the night? Still stressful.) and you've worried about this moment all week?
You pull up to the school-building-morphed-into-church in the Big Red Bike with a certain Monkey, and get inside, already trying to control the outcome by explaining things to her. There will be lots of people here you don't know. No, we're not here to get stamps. I brought some books and cereal for you to entertain yourself with. Yes, this is my church. We're not going to be giving hugs out today, okay? Just handshakes, and then, hopefully, only to people you know.
But already, her eyes are darting everywhere, her 4-year old curiosity going crazy with all the people around her. I escort her down the hallway (code: walking with her while keeping a tight grip... you must know that this is a person who is 5 ft. tall and weighs around the same as I do) and into the gym/sanctuary. We find a seat on the bench in the back and she looks around, frantically signing "Mom" and "Dad." I know that she's looking for my parents... some reassurance in this strange crowd of people.
I see my Mom and it takes me five minutes to get Monkey to understand that I am going to go tell my mom that she wants to see her. No, I am the one going to see her. I don't want you to move, alright? Walk away three steps and look back to see her rising. Munchkin, stay there, okay? I'll be right back. Watch, make sure she makes eye contact and signs "yes."
Walk to my mom and find understanding in her eyes, since she, too, works with my Monkey, except through the vocational shop here in town. I ask my mom if, perhaps, my family can come sit with us back here, hoping that it will bring an element of control and peace, safety even. Then, Monkey signs that she needs to use the bathroom, and it goes downhill from there (okay, even further downhill).
I didn't bring another pull-up. Monkey doesn't even want to be here. I'm tired, and I still have 8-or-so hours to go.
What do you do when you're leaning against that door in the women's washroom in the church as she sits on the toilet signing to you, and all you can do is hang your head and allow yourself a brief cry? What do you do?
It wasn't her fault. It was mine.
I had worried about her and church in the week leading up to this weekend alone with Monkey, but I had tried to take every precaution, pull every trick that I knew, use every word of reassurance so that it would end up right.
So that the people around me could see that I was in control.
And that's where it bit.
And it bit hard.
It was all about my pride. I wanted others to see the "good me," the one who had everything under control, who could take anything, make those split-second decisions that would ensure that it would turn out alright.
I had put my selfish desires and wants above and beyond the one who really needed me. My Monkey who needed understanding and enthusiasm from me about her abilities, even when they frustrated me. I had failed. Miserably.
But...
I don't think that it was coincidence that I read chapter three of the book Crazy Love that morning. It was titled, simply enough, Crazy Love.
And it spoke about the overwhelming love of a holy God for His children. For His child. For me.
Of His pursuit, of His longing, despite all that I am. Despite failure.
He knew me before He created me, chose to make me who I am, knowing all that I would do, the pain I would cause Him... but also maybe, okay, definitely, the joy that we would have together:
The word of the LORD came to me, saying, 'Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.' (Jeremiah 1:4-5)
Think about that. Crazy, huh?
Let me quote some bits from the chapter (you really should read it for yourself {it's written by Francis Chan}):
God's next words to Jeremiah assured me that I need not fear failure:
" 'Ah, Soveriegn LORD,' I said, 'I do not know how to speak; I am only a child.'
But the LORD said to me, 'Do not say, "I am only a child." You must go to everyone I sent you to and say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you,' declares the LORD. Then the LORD reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, 'Now I have put my words in your mouth. See, today, I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and to tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.' " (Jeremiah 1:6-10)
When Jeremiah voices his hesitation and fear, God -- the God of the galaxies -- reaches out and touches his mouth. It's a gentle and affectionate gesture, something a loving parent would do. Through this illustration I realized that I don't have to worry about not meeting His expectations. God will ensure my success in accordance with His plan, not mine.
Next one:
The very fact that a holy, eternal, all-knowing, all-powerful, merciful, fair and just God loves you and me is nothing short of astonishing.
The wildest part is that Jesus doesn't have to love us. His being is utterly complete and perfect, apart from humanity. He doesn't need me or you. Yet He wants us, chooses us, even considers us His inheritance (Eph. 1:18).
That really is amazing beyond description. The holy Creator sees you as His "glorious inheritance."
The irony is that while God doesn't need us but still wants us, we desperately need God but don't really want Him most of the time. He treasures us and anticipates our departure from this earth to be with Him -- and we wonder how much we have to do for Him to get by.
{first bold = italicized in the book, second bold = mine}
Last one:
The greatest good on earth is God. Period. God's one goal for us is Himself.
The Good News -- the best news in the world, in fact -- is that you can have God Himself. Do you believe that God is the greatest thing you can experience in the whole world? Do you believe that the Good News is not merely the forgiveness of sins, the guarantee that you won't go to hell, or the promise of life in heaven?
The best things in life are gifts from the One who steadfastly loves us. But an important question to ask ourselves is this: Are we in love with God or just His stuff?
Imagine how awful it would feel to have your child say to you, "I don't really love you or want your love, but I would like my allowance, please." Conversely, what a beautiful gift it is to have the one you love look you in the eye and say, "I love you. Not your beauty, your money, your family, or your car. Just you."
Can you say that to God?
Our love for Him always come out of His love for us. Do you love this God who is everything, or do you just love everything He gives you? Do you really know and believe that God loves you, individually and personally and intimately? Do you see and know Him as Abba Father?
{all bolds = italics in the book}
Maybe none of this clicks with the story I told up above. But that day, it did. My failure + His love = nothing but love.
I am so easily distracted from making Him the main goal of my life. Graduating is coming up, diplomas are looming, preparations need to be made, life needs to simplify itself, etc. I need Him so much, but so often I push Him out for "more important things."
But everyday He's showing me that nothing matters except His love. It's what started it all, and what will carry it through.
And although I know that my heart finds it hard to love, He's constantly wooing and pursuing. Plus, He made this heart of mine, so He most definitely knows the secret entrances.
His love. My failure doesn't come anywhere close to reaching the max on that.
You pull up to the school-building-morphed-into-church in the Big Red Bike with a certain Monkey, and get inside, already trying to control the outcome by explaining things to her. There will be lots of people here you don't know. No, we're not here to get stamps. I brought some books and cereal for you to entertain yourself with. Yes, this is my church. We're not going to be giving hugs out today, okay? Just handshakes, and then, hopefully, only to people you know.
But already, her eyes are darting everywhere, her 4-year old curiosity going crazy with all the people around her. I escort her down the hallway (code: walking with her while keeping a tight grip... you must know that this is a person who is 5 ft. tall and weighs around the same as I do) and into the gym/sanctuary. We find a seat on the bench in the back and she looks around, frantically signing "Mom" and "Dad." I know that she's looking for my parents... some reassurance in this strange crowd of people.
I see my Mom and it takes me five minutes to get Monkey to understand that I am going to go tell my mom that she wants to see her. No, I am the one going to see her. I don't want you to move, alright? Walk away three steps and look back to see her rising. Munchkin, stay there, okay? I'll be right back. Watch, make sure she makes eye contact and signs "yes."
Walk to my mom and find understanding in her eyes, since she, too, works with my Monkey, except through the vocational shop here in town. I ask my mom if, perhaps, my family can come sit with us back here, hoping that it will bring an element of control and peace, safety even. Then, Monkey signs that she needs to use the bathroom, and it goes downhill from there (okay, even further downhill).
I didn't bring another pull-up. Monkey doesn't even want to be here. I'm tired, and I still have 8-or-so hours to go.
What do you do when you're leaning against that door in the women's washroom in the church as she sits on the toilet signing to you, and all you can do is hang your head and allow yourself a brief cry? What do you do?
It wasn't her fault. It was mine.
I had worried about her and church in the week leading up to this weekend alone with Monkey, but I had tried to take every precaution, pull every trick that I knew, use every word of reassurance so that it would end up right.
So that the people around me could see that I was in control.
And that's where it bit.
And it bit hard.
It was all about my pride. I wanted others to see the "good me," the one who had everything under control, who could take anything, make those split-second decisions that would ensure that it would turn out alright.
I had put my selfish desires and wants above and beyond the one who really needed me. My Monkey who needed understanding and enthusiasm from me about her abilities, even when they frustrated me. I had failed. Miserably.
But...
I don't think that it was coincidence that I read chapter three of the book Crazy Love that morning. It was titled, simply enough, Crazy Love.
And it spoke about the overwhelming love of a holy God for His children. For His child. For me.
Of His pursuit, of His longing, despite all that I am. Despite failure.
He knew me before He created me, chose to make me who I am, knowing all that I would do, the pain I would cause Him... but also maybe, okay, definitely, the joy that we would have together:
The word of the LORD came to me, saying, 'Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.' (Jeremiah 1:4-5)
Think about that. Crazy, huh?
Let me quote some bits from the chapter (you really should read it for yourself {it's written by Francis Chan}):
God's next words to Jeremiah assured me that I need not fear failure:
" 'Ah, Soveriegn LORD,' I said, 'I do not know how to speak; I am only a child.'
But the LORD said to me, 'Do not say, "I am only a child." You must go to everyone I sent you to and say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you,' declares the LORD. Then the LORD reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, 'Now I have put my words in your mouth. See, today, I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and to tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.' " (Jeremiah 1:6-10)
When Jeremiah voices his hesitation and fear, God -- the God of the galaxies -- reaches out and touches his mouth. It's a gentle and affectionate gesture, something a loving parent would do. Through this illustration I realized that I don't have to worry about not meeting His expectations. God will ensure my success in accordance with His plan, not mine.
Next one:
The very fact that a holy, eternal, all-knowing, all-powerful, merciful, fair and just God loves you and me is nothing short of astonishing.
The wildest part is that Jesus doesn't have to love us. His being is utterly complete and perfect, apart from humanity. He doesn't need me or you. Yet He wants us, chooses us, even considers us His inheritance (Eph. 1:18).
That really is amazing beyond description. The holy Creator sees you as His "glorious inheritance."
The irony is that while God doesn't need us but still wants us, we desperately need God but don't really want Him most of the time. He treasures us and anticipates our departure from this earth to be with Him -- and we wonder how much we have to do for Him to get by.
{first bold = italicized in the book, second bold = mine}
Last one:
The greatest good on earth is God. Period. God's one goal for us is Himself.
The Good News -- the best news in the world, in fact -- is that you can have God Himself. Do you believe that God is the greatest thing you can experience in the whole world? Do you believe that the Good News is not merely the forgiveness of sins, the guarantee that you won't go to hell, or the promise of life in heaven?
The best things in life are gifts from the One who steadfastly loves us. But an important question to ask ourselves is this: Are we in love with God or just His stuff?
Imagine how awful it would feel to have your child say to you, "I don't really love you or want your love, but I would like my allowance, please." Conversely, what a beautiful gift it is to have the one you love look you in the eye and say, "I love you. Not your beauty, your money, your family, or your car. Just you."
Can you say that to God?
Our love for Him always come out of His love for us. Do you love this God who is everything, or do you just love everything He gives you? Do you really know and believe that God loves you, individually and personally and intimately? Do you see and know Him as Abba Father?
{all bolds = italics in the book}
Maybe none of this clicks with the story I told up above. But that day, it did. My failure + His love = nothing but love.
I am so easily distracted from making Him the main goal of my life. Graduating is coming up, diplomas are looming, preparations need to be made, life needs to simplify itself, etc. I need Him so much, but so often I push Him out for "more important things."
But everyday He's showing me that nothing matters except His love. It's what started it all, and what will carry it through.
And although I know that my heart finds it hard to love, He's constantly wooing and pursuing. Plus, He made this heart of mine, so He most definitely knows the secret entrances.
His love. My failure doesn't come anywhere close to reaching the max on that.
Friday, June 8
In Rainy Day Blessings
1. Rain:
I love the sound of rain on a tin roof. Although the roof here doesn't quite compare, it's a sound that reminds me of nights spent warm and swaddled up in my sheets in Cameroon, while thunder and lightning rages outside. It almost makes me want to stick out my tongue out in defiance to the outside elements because no matter how much it rains and thunders, I'm safe and snug. Rain rocks me to sleep, and reminds me of how safe and secure I am.
2. My Boo:
The door creaked open at around 9:15 this morning, and even though I couldn't see who it was, I knew it was her. This little one who is so much like me in so many ways, who has golden hair and blue eyes, who is only 8 years old, who devours books voraciously, who is creative and has a gift for drawing, this one that comes to snuggle. She lifted up the corner of my sheets and crawled in, snuggling her way into my little ball of warmth and slipping her ice cold feet next to my warm ones. She grabbed the bear that I had snuggled last night, and named him Freddy, and so I grabbed Mr. Ty and she play-acted with the two bears, and then we talked about the most random things until she started bouncing on me twenty minutes later, to get me up. In the midst of that, we had this conversation:
Scene: I was snuggling her as if she was my teddy bear, and she was insisting that she was anything but.
Me: Next year, I won't get to snuggle with you or have you wake me up.
Her: Yes you will!
Me: I'm going to be living in the dorms, not here at home. How are you going to wake me up?
Her: I'll drive all the way to your dorm and come wake you up.
Me: Yeah, right. (thinking: I wish!)
Followed with giggles and a tickle fight.
It's moments like this that I don't have much more time to treasure. Seeing her grow up and realize all that she has been created to be, and grow closer to the God who created her to be such is a privilege that I won't possess for much longer. This is one of the biggest things that I'll miss.
3. Free Time:
With it being a flex and having all my school assignments in (finally!), it's wonderful to have time to get things done like addressing grad invites, balancing my Excel spreadsheet money stuff (nerdy, I know), putting away laundry that's been sitting in folded piles on my floor for awhile, relaxing, doing some homework (okay, not yet, but I'm sure that's bound to happen sometime today), write blog posts, etc. It's a reprieve in the midst of what looks like it's going to be a hectic month. When my room is clean, my finances are in order, my chores are done, and everything is scheduled for one day, it makes me feel ready to face busyness. Simple blessings, given by a God who knows me inside out. Amazing!
4. Alphabet Soup:
Again, the blessing of eating together with my family, even on a non-school day. The only one gone was my Dad because he was at a meeting. Part of the meal was alphabet soup, resulting some competition to see who could find their name in their soup first. Once again, a little thing that means so much.
5. Matt Redman:
Just recently discovering this artist, but really enjoying his music. This song seems to fit this day (and this blog post!), and keeps running through my head:
Count your blessings today... there are so many.
I love the sound of rain on a tin roof. Although the roof here doesn't quite compare, it's a sound that reminds me of nights spent warm and swaddled up in my sheets in Cameroon, while thunder and lightning rages outside. It almost makes me want to stick out my tongue out in defiance to the outside elements because no matter how much it rains and thunders, I'm safe and snug. Rain rocks me to sleep, and reminds me of how safe and secure I am.
2. My Boo:
The door creaked open at around 9:15 this morning, and even though I couldn't see who it was, I knew it was her. This little one who is so much like me in so many ways, who has golden hair and blue eyes, who is only 8 years old, who devours books voraciously, who is creative and has a gift for drawing, this one that comes to snuggle. She lifted up the corner of my sheets and crawled in, snuggling her way into my little ball of warmth and slipping her ice cold feet next to my warm ones. She grabbed the bear that I had snuggled last night, and named him Freddy, and so I grabbed Mr. Ty and she play-acted with the two bears, and then we talked about the most random things until she started bouncing on me twenty minutes later, to get me up. In the midst of that, we had this conversation:
Scene: I was snuggling her as if she was my teddy bear, and she was insisting that she was anything but.
Me: Next year, I won't get to snuggle with you or have you wake me up.
Her: Yes you will!
Me: I'm going to be living in the dorms, not here at home. How are you going to wake me up?
Her: I'll drive all the way to your dorm and come wake you up.
Me: Yeah, right. (thinking: I wish!)
Followed with giggles and a tickle fight.
It's moments like this that I don't have much more time to treasure. Seeing her grow up and realize all that she has been created to be, and grow closer to the God who created her to be such is a privilege that I won't possess for much longer. This is one of the biggest things that I'll miss.
3. Free Time:
With it being a flex and having all my school assignments in (finally!), it's wonderful to have time to get things done like addressing grad invites, balancing my Excel spreadsheet money stuff (nerdy, I know), putting away laundry that's been sitting in folded piles on my floor for awhile, relaxing, doing some homework (okay, not yet, but I'm sure that's bound to happen sometime today), write blog posts, etc. It's a reprieve in the midst of what looks like it's going to be a hectic month. When my room is clean, my finances are in order, my chores are done, and everything is scheduled for one day, it makes me feel ready to face busyness. Simple blessings, given by a God who knows me inside out. Amazing!
4. Alphabet Soup:
Again, the blessing of eating together with my family, even on a non-school day. The only one gone was my Dad because he was at a meeting. Part of the meal was alphabet soup, resulting some competition to see who could find their name in their soup first. Once again, a little thing that means so much.
5. Matt Redman:
Just recently discovering this artist, but really enjoying his music. This song seems to fit this day (and this blog post!), and keeps running through my head:
Count your blessings today... there are so many.
Thursday, June 7
In A Conversation
I got home, grabbed the family laptop and got caught up on the news of the day after a day full of rafting with my Senior class (SO much fun!). Priorities, I know, hey?
The only other one home was my sister and soon the rest of the family trickled in.
It wasn't long before my mom and dad and sister were gathered in the living room where I was on the laptop and we started talking.
I don't know about you, but family time is one of my most treasured parts of the day. We eat every meal together that we can (unless either my mom or I am working), but I grew up with my parents both "working" at home, so meals eaten together were almost a given.
Nowadays we eat breakfast together, do some devos together, eat supper together and before I go to bed, I still go say good-night to each of them. More often than not, I end up talking for half an hour about my day, sometimes even longer.
My parents are some of the best people I know. They know me like no other. They are my friends, my mentors, the ones who laugh at me with love in their eyes, who truly understand my motives, my abilities, my passion, and yet guide me when I need it. I can't explain how much I value them...
So I explained about my rafting trip, from the puncturing of my raft (had to be mine!) to the rapids, the camaraderie, the food, the wetsuits, the jokes, the most-likely-to list, and everything else that was involved in today. Oh, and add to that my sunburn that makes me feel like Rudolph.
Then came questions about the meeting they had just been to about our school and the spiritual elements involved therein. A couple of weeks ago, my dad had brought up the fact that this meeting was soon to take place, and asked for suggestions. (By the way, kudos to N + R who represented the students there, sounds like you did a fantastic job!)
It wasn't long before my mom had to go grab a piece of paper to write down all the ideas that we bandied around, putting words to the thoughts that I've had for years. It's truly only as I'm leaving this year that I've realized just how much God has worked in and through me here at this school.
The facilities are so old that my mom can walk through it and point out the classrooms and what class she had in there and with what teacher, but the teachers are what make this school fantastic. They care about my life beyond my academic marks and rejoice more over my growth than an increase in grades.
There's so much I would love to see happen in our school, so much that I get excited about because God has great things in store for those who look to Him to fulfill His Word and in a school that would totally focus on Him for its every need and direction. Oh, it gets me so excited!!!!
I love thinking big pictures, spewing out ideas, molding them into what would work and getting excited about the impact that they would have. I LOVE it.
And we moved on to other related (and not-so-related) things, including my sister's day at school and other things such as how weakness are strengths, and how humbleness is better than bravado even when it could hurt you, how the future is a scary thing in terms of relationships and independence, how leadership is being a servant, how each one of us has our own sphere of influence and many more things.
Let's just say that I was enlightened, lifted up, felt joy, worshiped and gave thanks for a conversation like this. I'll miss conversations like this when I move to another province next year, although Skype does do wonders! Not that my family is always intellectual or debating things all the time, by any means. But having conversations in an environment where I feel so secure and valued that I can say anything and don't feel put down when some else has an opposite idea is a blessing. To pursue my passion of big pictures and ideas and brainstorming and through it all be able to praise Him.
Ai... I am blessed!
The only other one home was my sister and soon the rest of the family trickled in.
It wasn't long before my mom and dad and sister were gathered in the living room where I was on the laptop and we started talking.
I don't know about you, but family time is one of my most treasured parts of the day. We eat every meal together that we can (unless either my mom or I am working), but I grew up with my parents both "working" at home, so meals eaten together were almost a given.
Nowadays we eat breakfast together, do some devos together, eat supper together and before I go to bed, I still go say good-night to each of them. More often than not, I end up talking for half an hour about my day, sometimes even longer.
My parents are some of the best people I know. They know me like no other. They are my friends, my mentors, the ones who laugh at me with love in their eyes, who truly understand my motives, my abilities, my passion, and yet guide me when I need it. I can't explain how much I value them...
So I explained about my rafting trip, from the puncturing of my raft (had to be mine!) to the rapids, the camaraderie, the food, the wetsuits, the jokes, the most-likely-to list, and everything else that was involved in today. Oh, and add to that my sunburn that makes me feel like Rudolph.
Then came questions about the meeting they had just been to about our school and the spiritual elements involved therein. A couple of weeks ago, my dad had brought up the fact that this meeting was soon to take place, and asked for suggestions. (By the way, kudos to N + R who represented the students there, sounds like you did a fantastic job!)
It wasn't long before my mom had to go grab a piece of paper to write down all the ideas that we bandied around, putting words to the thoughts that I've had for years. It's truly only as I'm leaving this year that I've realized just how much God has worked in and through me here at this school.
The facilities are so old that my mom can walk through it and point out the classrooms and what class she had in there and with what teacher, but the teachers are what make this school fantastic. They care about my life beyond my academic marks and rejoice more over my growth than an increase in grades.
There's so much I would love to see happen in our school, so much that I get excited about because God has great things in store for those who look to Him to fulfill His Word and in a school that would totally focus on Him for its every need and direction. Oh, it gets me so excited!!!!
I love thinking big pictures, spewing out ideas, molding them into what would work and getting excited about the impact that they would have. I LOVE it.
And we moved on to other related (and not-so-related) things, including my sister's day at school and other things such as how weakness are strengths, and how humbleness is better than bravado even when it could hurt you, how the future is a scary thing in terms of relationships and independence, how leadership is being a servant, how each one of us has our own sphere of influence and many more things.
Let's just say that I was enlightened, lifted up, felt joy, worshiped and gave thanks for a conversation like this. I'll miss conversations like this when I move to another province next year, although Skype does do wonders! Not that my family is always intellectual or debating things all the time, by any means. But having conversations in an environment where I feel so secure and valued that I can say anything and don't feel put down when some else has an opposite idea is a blessing. To pursue my passion of big pictures and ideas and brainstorming and through it all be able to praise Him.
Ai... I am blessed!
Monday, June 4
My Top Priority
Although this is almost a reiteration of the last post, there's a story to tell.
I was cleaning out my "inbox" that sits on my desk, collecting random papers and piles of things. Some papers I put in my planner, others got recycled to the family's scrap paper drawer, while others got chucked. But guess what was at the bottom of this pile of progress reports, school assignment, random notes jotted down to myself, grad pictures, etc.?
My last month's Daily Bread.
It had been missing for some time, but I had looked in all the places I thought it would be. Normally I like to read it before I go to bed or while brushing my teeth.
Does it hit you? At the bottom of the pile of my... life... I found it.
Not at the top. And it needs to be at the top. This morning I was talking for a long time with God and listening, and... being. Just sitting and thinking, meditating and being reminded, calling out and comforted. Some times I feel like I'm talking to myself, but perseverance always pays off.
I opened my Bible to Acts, wanting to hear some stories of what the apostles had done, empowered by Him, in the beginning of their ministry. And a few verses in, I found it:
"But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you. And you will be made my witnesses, telling people about me everywhere -- in Jerusalem, throughout Judea, in Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." (Acts 1:8 - NLT)
It was underlined. I had memorized it before. But it hit me with a new force.
Right now, I am a witness in Jerusalem, in my home town, right where I'm comfortable.
This summer, I'm going to be a witness in Judea, up north in my province, my area, a little bit more out of my comfort zone.
Next year, I'm a witness in Samaria, a little farther away, a "country" away, in Saskatchewan.
And the year after that, hopefully, I'm going to be a witness to the ends of the earth as I head back overseas with my family to tutor a missionary family's kids for a year.
But right now.. I am a witness here, right now. In the midst of stress and a piled on school schedule (partly the fault of my own procrastination), I am called to fulfill my duty as a witness, for Him, here, to finish it well, and not to put it in last place.
Maybe that's why I feel peace, as I sit here, blogging at 10:00 at night, having worked from right after school until 6, and then "tutored" (code: caught up with, was encouraged, had fun, and did *some* math) with a friend until 9:15, and then chatted with friends of FB and did a little bit of homework up until now.
I don't know what the balance is. But years from now, people are not going to remember my name if I receive stellar marks... they're going to remember my personality, my attitude, my witness.
What's your priority today?
I was cleaning out my "inbox" that sits on my desk, collecting random papers and piles of things. Some papers I put in my planner, others got recycled to the family's scrap paper drawer, while others got chucked. But guess what was at the bottom of this pile of progress reports, school assignment, random notes jotted down to myself, grad pictures, etc.?
My last month's Daily Bread.
It had been missing for some time, but I had looked in all the places I thought it would be. Normally I like to read it before I go to bed or while brushing my teeth.
Does it hit you? At the bottom of the pile of my... life... I found it.
Not at the top. And it needs to be at the top. This morning I was talking for a long time with God and listening, and... being. Just sitting and thinking, meditating and being reminded, calling out and comforted. Some times I feel like I'm talking to myself, but perseverance always pays off.
I opened my Bible to Acts, wanting to hear some stories of what the apostles had done, empowered by Him, in the beginning of their ministry. And a few verses in, I found it:
"But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you. And you will be made my witnesses, telling people about me everywhere -- in Jerusalem, throughout Judea, in Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." (Acts 1:8 - NLT)
It was underlined. I had memorized it before. But it hit me with a new force.
Right now, I am a witness in Jerusalem, in my home town, right where I'm comfortable.
This summer, I'm going to be a witness in Judea, up north in my province, my area, a little bit more out of my comfort zone.
Next year, I'm a witness in Samaria, a little farther away, a "country" away, in Saskatchewan.
And the year after that, hopefully, I'm going to be a witness to the ends of the earth as I head back overseas with my family to tutor a missionary family's kids for a year.
But right now.. I am a witness here, right now. In the midst of stress and a piled on school schedule (partly the fault of my own procrastination), I am called to fulfill my duty as a witness, for Him, here, to finish it well, and not to put it in last place.
Maybe that's why I feel peace, as I sit here, blogging at 10:00 at night, having worked from right after school until 6, and then "tutored" (code: caught up with, was encouraged, had fun, and did *some* math) with a friend until 9:15, and then chatted with friends of FB and did a little bit of homework up until now.
I don't know what the balance is. But years from now, people are not going to remember my name if I receive stellar marks... they're going to remember my personality, my attitude, my witness.
What's your priority today?
Sunday, June 3
Constant
It seem as if my whole life has been up and down lately, what with school wrapping up (only two more weeks left of actual class!!), projects coming due, and even my devos and prayer not happening like they should.
And today was my last day of touring with my highschool choir.
This day has been three years of hard work and busy schedules. I have learned so much about cooperation, working as a team, how to be my best but give Him the glory (still working on that one), discipling and speaking into other's lives, of learning how to get along with others when it's 11 at night and you really. want. them. to. stop. talking. so. you. can. go. to. sleep.
It's been incredible.
It hasn't hit me yet... but I don't think it will for awhile. Maybe not until I'm dressed up in that dress and ready to go to Banquet, or being handed my diploma, or even, my last day of classes.
I don't get emotional very often, but I wish I could. In my mind, becoming emotional imparts a certain sense of worth on something, because it has caused me to become emotional (that might only makes sense to those other reserved-emotionally introverts out there).
But a numbness sits over me as I contemplate this week and groan. There's so much to get done yet, but I want to do it WELL. To do it with the best in me. It feels as if all I'm giving is the last dredges of my work habit and schedule.
The thing is... He's constant. He never changes. One thing that I'm so excited about in the upcoming years is understanding more fully how my circumstances should never define how I act or who I depend on. Hopefully, it brings greater trust and dependence on Him.
School's almost over... but He's always the same (thank goodness!).
And today was my last day of touring with my highschool choir.
This day has been three years of hard work and busy schedules. I have learned so much about cooperation, working as a team, how to be my best but give Him the glory (still working on that one), discipling and speaking into other's lives, of learning how to get along with others when it's 11 at night and you really. want. them. to. stop. talking. so. you. can. go. to. sleep.
It's been incredible.
It hasn't hit me yet... but I don't think it will for awhile. Maybe not until I'm dressed up in that dress and ready to go to Banquet, or being handed my diploma, or even, my last day of classes.
I don't get emotional very often, but I wish I could. In my mind, becoming emotional imparts a certain sense of worth on something, because it has caused me to become emotional (that might only makes sense to those other reserved-emotionally introverts out there).
But a numbness sits over me as I contemplate this week and groan. There's so much to get done yet, but I want to do it WELL. To do it with the best in me. It feels as if all I'm giving is the last dredges of my work habit and schedule.
The thing is... He's constant. He never changes. One thing that I'm so excited about in the upcoming years is understanding more fully how my circumstances should never define how I act or who I depend on. Hopefully, it brings greater trust and dependence on Him.
School's almost over... but He's always the same (thank goodness!).
Friday, June 1
Challenging Me
A lot of things have been going on, sometimes so much that I refuse to sort them all out and carry them around in a ball of stress that weighs me down.'
But even through it, He speaks, He pursues... He challenges.
I struggle with this. With my attitude towards those around me and making sure that what I am doing is out of true love, and not any empty self-ambition. It challenged me... and I hope it challenges you.
Now... don't just watch it. Please. That's the whole purpose: Ruminate... meditate... and then... DO.
But even through it, He speaks, He pursues... He challenges.
I struggle with this. With my attitude towards those around me and making sure that what I am doing is out of true love, and not any empty self-ambition. It challenged me... and I hope it challenges you.
Now... don't just watch it. Please. That's the whole purpose: Ruminate... meditate... and then... DO.
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