Carrying

We performed fourteen times in less than two weeks. Truth heaped upon truth, revealing itself little by little to the stubborn heart that I own. And I heard this song every single time, and every time I had to be reminded.

I am carried.

It was mentioned at the beginning of the year, during our first module course, that the only thing that we contribute to our salvation is our sin.

Think about it.

The only thing we bring is our inadequacy, our brokenness, our inability.

And in our shattered state, He lifts and carries us to that banquet that He's promised.

On the road with tour, it was so easy to slip into letting those prayer times before performances being the only times that I purposely talked to Him. To let the message that we were sharing be the time I spent with Him instead of letting that message flow from a heart that was resting in Him.

I tried to do it all by myself. As if I was trying to be something that I wasn't, trying to conjure up something that didn't exist.

I was stumbling, crawling desperately up that hill when there were Arms ready to hold me if I just stopped so desperately trying to do it on my own.

And it was when I simply talked to Him, told Him everything, invited Him into the everyday moments, acknowledged the way that He wasn't the middle of everything like He should be that I realized, once again, that in the every day, I need to be carried.

Over the last month or so, I have  been reading through Psalms and Proverbs and He has really been underlining his unfailing love.

Return, O LORD, and rescue me. Save me because of your unfailing love. (Psalm 6:4)

But I trust in your unfailing love. I will rejoice because you have rescued me. I will sing because the LORD is good to me. (Psalm 13:5-6)

I cried out, "I am slipping!" but your unfailing love, O LORD, supported me. When doubts filled my mind, your comfort gave me renewed hope and cheer. (Psalm 94:18-19)

Not to us, O LORD, not to us, but to your name goes all the glory for your unfailing love and faithfulness. (Psalm 115:1)

And it's everywhere. There are many, many more references.

His unfailing love, His carrying, that's why I can keep going on. Because it's not about me. That moment when our walk began? That was when I first allowed Him to carry me and said, "I cannot do this." And the everyday requires repeating that same surrendering of will, that same laying down of self.

It's only when He carries me that I find that He is strong because I am weak.

He longs to carry you. Will you let Him?

A Paradox

It's one of those things that I've always struggled with and a friend showed me something she had written that really made me stop and smile and ponder the paradox once again...

The little girl peeked into the room - eyes wide. And she was right to be amazed, for she was looking into the very throne room of God Almighty! All around she saw angels, cherubim, seraphim and other beings whose only task was to glorify God. They were fantastic to behold and so totally foreign to the little girl that she shrunk back. Then she saw what they were doing. All of the array of angels and creatures in the little girl's view were doing exactly the same thing - they were bowing down and crying out, "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty!" 

Finally the little girl's attention was caught by the one she'd come looking for. On His throne that I looked as if it were made of sapphire was God Almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth, and He was beckoning to her. The little girl squealed and ran to Him - heedless of the countless others in the room. The Lord laughed as He called her name and scooped her up in His arms. His voice - like the sound of rushing water - and her little bell-like laugh blended into each other to create one of His favourite sounds - Joy and Love. "I love you, my little princess," He said as He sat back down, still holding her in His arms. His attention was all hers as she smiled up into His face. "I love you too," she replied as she snuggled into His lap - completely content.

{by Bethany Unrau}

Come in awe and yet with confidence... what a mystery.

One that we're called to revel in. 

In Easter

Just as I wrote about in my last post, recently I've been learning a lot about what it means to be not enough.

And as I headed home for Easter weekend, I fell under the illusion (as I have a tendency to do) that God is chained to the places that I've encountered Him.

So often I can come into His presence with greater ease when it's a familiar place that when entered brings back memories of lessons in the past that He's taught me.

As a result, when I switch places, I have to go through the whole mental game of reminding myself that He is with me everywhere I go.

The weekend was great. But as I entered church on Easter Sunday morning, I was feeling dimly lit, as if I hadn't encountered God the way that I wanted to during this season. As if I couldn't feel Him.

But as the service went by, it was if the common thread of His lessons to me recently was whispered in my head over and over again.

Easter is all about not being enough. 

The reason He came? The reason He died?

I am not enough. But He is.

There is no way that I can face a holy God with anything in my hands that would convince Him to let me near His perfectness.

I am filth from the inside out, coated in the molasses texture of sins that I have deluded myself are not really that bad.

Coming into His presence while those drip off of me and pollute the white halls of His holiness?

Not going to happen.

And so He sent His Son. The only One who was enough.

That One who is everything, became nothing so that I might become whole.

And as we dyed Easter eggs, turning them from white to scribbled with hope,

I realized afresh how He takes one life and not only justifies (declares not guilty),

but in His good will, chooses to sanctify that life.

Taking the little moments of each day, the trials and the heartache, the joys and delights,

And crafts each on of us into something that He delights in.

Something that brings Him glory.

I am not enough. I could never do this on my own.

But He can. And He does.

And that's why there's Easter.

Eli

Last weekend, our soccer team had the privilege of leading the service at one of the surrounding churches as part of our field education. Some of us helped with worship, one preached a sermon for his homiletics course, and still others led the children's time.

And as soon as they were up at front and the storybook was revealed, I settled back into my seat prepared to sit through another heart-warming reading of a Max Lucado book.

You are Special. Although the rendition included laughs, it struck a chord in me that I hadn't realized needed to be struck.

The story of one young boy who finds himself unable to live up to the expectations of the community, covered in grey dots instead of sparkly stars, judged for the things that he cannot accomplish.

A young girl who has none, and to whom none can stick, and a secret revealed.

Every day, I go and see Eli. 

And out of desperation, and yet with trembling and fear this young Wemmick approaches the doorway to the carpenter's shop and pauses a moment.

Then he hears something. A voice. The sound of his maker calling his name.

"How good to see you." And the conversation continues, until the Creator comments on the marks that the Wemmick bears. Ready to defend himself, the Wemmick is surprised to hear Him say, "Oh, you don't have to defend yourself to me, child. I don't care about what the other Wemmicks think." 

Although there are so many lessons that can be gleaned from this book, there are a few lines from their conversation that really stuck with me.

"Because you're mine. That's why you matter to me. Every day, I've been hoping that you would come... the more you trust my love, the less you care about their stickers."

"Just come to see me everyday and let me remind you how much I care."   

And a craving arose in me as the story finished. To meet with my Creator as he had met with his. To view time with God as an escape, a refuge, a place where my priorities are rearranged and where my eyes are opened so that I realize how little value the labels of this world really hold.

So often I view my devotions as something that is scheduled in, something that I occasionally delight in, something I meet with God in, and yet something that I view as have-to-do.

A chance? An opportunity? An escape from this world? Not really.

Today in chapel, our student body president shared something that compounded this message. He shared how so often in his life he found that he had made his faith about the Gospel + whatever. That he felt that if he didn't do enough good works, he would someday be shamed. That there was this striving and reaching for something instead of rest.

Because that's what we're called to do. Rest.

Rest in the fact that our heavenly Father could never love us more than He does at this moment.

Let that sink in.

It's a truth that I so often let fade away into the background and soon I am back to trying to please God with all the good things that I do, all the while failing to realize that He delights in me.

Yes, I continue to do good things, but as an outpouring of the love that He shows me, rather than as a way to be able to be worthy.

And that's the key.

I am not worthy. Never have been. Never will be.

But He has made me worthy.

And how foolish to negate the worthiness of Christ that is now given to me, simply by striving to do it on my own although I know that it has never worked in the past, so why should I think it will work now?

That is why I fail to come. I fail to realize His love. The longing He has for me, not because of my own merit, but because of Christ's.

I want to come as a little child to the office of my Father. To be in awe of all that He is and yet to climb with joy and anticipation into that huge lap and to be cradled in those strong arms. To simply be, and to tell of my sorrows, and to be willing to be reprimanded. To want to stay as long as I can, instead of think of how soon I can escape.

I want to be with Eli.

Pursuing

There is still one more post to come in the prayer days for Colombia, but there is something more important to write about at a time like this, and so that will continue to be procrastinated.

I went around my room picking up all my clothing scattered on the floor, putting away hair products, and replacing Bibles and books. 

And it struck me.... the messiness of my room perfectly reflects the state of my soul these days.

It's so easy to get caught up in the community here. Even the academic competitor that I am, I put off homework to hang out with friends, and that's been great. 

But it's so easy to make my focus about other things rather than the only reason that I just breathed in that breath that I used to give energy to my fingers to type this sentence. Him. 

Then again, He`s pursuing.

Last Sunday, we had a worship night here on campus and there was a moment, have you ever had it?, when with your eyes closed and arms up in praise, there seems to be this rubbing of your soul with the glory of God and you're overwhelmed because of all that you're not and all that He is. And it leaves you gasping, and smiling a smile a mile wide while rolling in the glorious feeling of closeness and it hits you that this is not even a smidge of all that He is. 

And that glorious moment of praise really confirmed to me that this is the place where I am supposed to be. I've learned a lot this past week, the biggest thing that reality of Jesus in every section of the Bible and the grand story behind it all, and it has given me a renewed hunger for reading this Book of all books.

At the same time, we are required to read 6 specified books before the 20th and it finds me reading through the chapters as rote, grasping the bigger story and yet most of the time just passing each chapter as a milestone to the assignment.

Tonight, we had a prayer meeting on campus. It was held in one of the staff member's homes, and wasn't required, but ended up being packed. The feeling of being surrounded by people with a similar intent was amazing, but it was as we started praying and were brought back to one point that I found myself being overwhelmed by this pursuing King of all kings once again. 

We were challenged by the leader about the desperation of seeking God with every breath.

I have let the mundane overcome me, lost and blind to the passion of the One who calls me. 

Lost my focus of why I am here and let it become the people, assignments, convenience, anything but Him.

Although I do meet with Him during the weeks, weekends are the bane of my devotional life, and I realized that I had become stuck in my all too familiar rut of forgetting Him on the weekends. Which is silly because it's the one time that I have time to do things like spend longer on devotions, etc. but it's often because I sleep in and don't get up at my set aside time for devotions during the week. 

I had lost my hunger to know this amazing Father who deigned to stoop low and to pick up one which contains so much sin, but has become covered with the blood of His Son. 

And as we prayed and as I felt the passion in others' voices and felt challenged in my relationship with Him and how dry I have often allowed my conversations to become, and although I acknowledge that a relationship is a steady process, it should still be underlined with my urgency to be hungry for Him.

To realize that I am nothing but hungry, broken, empty, and full of sin. 

To realize that He is everything, including satisfying, healing, and holy. 

Once we were done and we had laid down our requests before Him, I headed back to the dorms, grabbed a sweater, changed into pants and grabbed my Bible and Zune and head out to the trampoline behind the girl's dorm. 

And as I sat there, watching the slowly fading sky, I surrendered again. I don't want this year to be about friendships, valuable as they may be, or about academics, no matter what I may learn... it has one purpose: Him. 

It's so easy for met to set up other priorities and idols. And as I poured out myself, He met me with a calling of "Peace, child." and the sense that He was everything that I needed. I came hungry and He filled. And I worshiped. 

And by the time I'm writing this, the feelings have already faded. But my God is so much more than feelings... He is the living and never changing, always constant lover of my soul. 

And He is pursuing me... and I want to be found, and to find.

I AM

I was reading through my grad cards again this morning, finishing up my much-procrastinated upon grad thank you cards. During grad, it was hard to let the words of blessing and encouragement spoken sink in simply because of the hecticness of my schedule.

But as I sat on my bed, surrounded by cards, and addressed thank you cards, I was struck again with how much I have been blessed. Although many cards had something encouraging in them about my personality, etc. I was overwhelmed.

Since when have I been counted worthy to be anything at all, to be used by Him? It surely wasn't my doing that I may have all these characteristic attributed to me. Rather, He chose to take one little life, to touch a young girl in the middle of the Cameroonian jungle and cause her to grow up in His ways. I had nothing to do with it.

The same feeling came over me as I was writing up my Camp synopsis for this year. So many incredible things happened in those 5 short (and yet long) weeks that it was crazy to look at my fears beforehand and see how God had transformed them into something that He used in an amazing way.

I was reading this morning, my daily chapter of Louie Giglio's i am not but i know I AM, and this whole concept hit me right in the face. Isn't it slightly awesome that hindsight is 20/20? All of my life, although not by any means complete yet, has led me up to this moment and looking back, I can start to see what He's been doing through some of the biggest moments in my life.

The whole premise of this book is that this is the story of God, not ours. We're not centerstage, rather we are playing supporting parts to a bigger story... His story.

This chapter deals with Moses, and while I shouldn't write out the whole chapter, I'm going to quote large portions of it {just go out and get the book already! I got it from the local library, but I'm definitely considering buying it simply because I want to highlight/mark it up}

"While as humans we try to partner with the brightest and most powerful, God is simply looking for people who are willing to take Him at His word -- those confident that with Him in the equation everything is possible."

Although God had an incredible plan for the man who was going to lead His people to freedom, He chose Moses. A stuttering, aging man who was not on great terms with Pharaoh to start with. A bush burst into fire and my quotes begin again.

"Now that He had Moses' undivided attention, God laid out His plan. 'I have indeed seen the misery of My people in Egypt. I have heart them crying out because of their slave drivers and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come down to rescue them and bring them into a good and spacious land. The cry of the Israelites has reached Me and I have seen the way the Egyptians are oppressing them.'

Did you notice all the first-person pronouns God is using to state His case? I have seen. I have heard. I'm concerned. I'm coming down. I'm going to do something.

God's mind was set. His plan was in motion. Failure was not an option. No insurmountable obstacle stood in His way. God had sized up Pharaoh, a man of unrivaled political and military power, and decided to use him as a pawn in His story. The redemption mission would go on as scheduled, Pharaoh's army not withstanding, and a couple million people would journey through an arid desert wasteland to safely arrive in the land long ago promised to their forefathers. Mark it down. It was going to happen. God was confident that the Promised Land -- the place He had chosen for Israel to dwell -- was suitably perfect, even if it was presently inhabited by skilled warriors defending cities whose fortressed walls would intimidate any man. (see the formidable list of 'ites' in Exodus 3:8b). God wasn't deterred and He didn't need any assistance. But He had chosen to use a man, a human mouthpiece -- someone who would carry His message and lead His cause. That's when, for Moses, the conversation took an ominous turn."

Here's where God tells Moses that He's chosen him to set His people free.

"Confused and overwhelmed, Moses blurts out, 'Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?' 

I think what was going through Moses' mind were the same kind of thoughts that have raced through yours and mine when we're called by God to do something that seems way beyond our abilities. God, are you serious? Is this a joke? Have You mistaken me for someone else? Surely You don't think I can pull this off do You? Who, me? Do what?"

Skip a bit...

"When God said 'You go,' He was implying: 'I am going to do this with or without you, Moses, but I've been searching for just the right partner, a regular guy who will believe that I am able to do exactly what I have said I will do. You just need to merge onto the highway of My agenda -- My promised before, now happening, already in motion agenda -- and watch Me go. Don't deviate from what I am saying. Trust Me. Follow Me without fear of any man. This is going to be amazing. Oh, and by the way, I could do it all by Myself, but I'm choosing to use a human vessel -- a tangible, flesh and blood ambassador for the cause. And I am choosing you, Moses. So now you go!"

Re-read that. Put your name in it.

Amazing, isn't it? And it doesn't just apply to one "mission". It applies to life.

Once again, a *blog post* by my friend offered up a phrase that made me stop and think:

"In John 3:30, John the Baptist says, "He must become greater; I must become less."
This is the crux of Christianity. It is not some religion with a list of "do's and don'ts", rather it is an emptying of oneself to make room for the Perfect One. What an honour to be the suit of clothes that is worn by Jesus Christ."

Crazy, isn't it? That's all we are. But even if that's all we are... what an honour. What a privilege.

So back to Moses. With all the fear and trembling that a man would posses when faced with the prospect of filling the shoes of "human vessel for God," he asks, "How?"

"Interestingly, God didn't respond with a pep talk... Instead, God answers Moses' 'Who am I?' question with five life-shifting words as He simply affirms, 'I will be with you.'

When God invites us into His story, assigning us various roles that are seemingly too big for us to carry out, His affirmation will always be the same -- I will be with you. It's as if He was saying to Moses, 'Don't worry about who you are, just focus on the realty that I'm going, too. And if I go with you, trust Me, everything's going to work out find.' "

Then, Moses asks another question. One more daring, deep and risky than almost anything else he could've done. He asks, "Who are you?"

"Can you believe it? Moses is asking the God of all Creation to tell him His name.

It's important to grasp the gravity of the situation. Of course, God already knew Moses's name (He had repeatedly called him by his first name at the outset of this exchange). But Moses didn't know His. Since the dawn of time, God had been referred to as Yahweh, meaning Most High God -- a name so revered by the generations preceding Moses, they rarely wrote it out in full (choosing instead to abbreviate it). 

But that revered title was really more a description than a personal name. No one knew God's personal name. And, as far as we know, no one had dared to ask. 

You have to understand, it's not as though God was just a little higher and a little more holy than Moses, someone you'd just stroll up to and say, 'Hey man, what's up?' No, we're talking about the Infinite One -- the One whose voice alone causes worlds to be born and grown men to hid their faces -- having a conversation with a little, frail, finite creature. A creature who wants to know if he can call almighty God by his name. 

God was in no way obligated to answer, yet without hesitation, He did. To this aging shepherd, God revealed His name, saying: 'I AM who I AM. Tell them I AM sent you.' "

Skip a bit...

"In English the name I AM translates into the verb 'to be.' Or simply 'be.' 

Therefore God's name is 'Be.' I AM = I BE. Not great grammar I know, but great theology. 

God knew it was imperative for Moses to know who He was -- that He was I AM. I AM is the present tense, active form of the verb 'to be.' As God's name, it declares that he is unchanging, constant, unending, always present, always God.

God was telling Moses:
I AM the center of everything.
I AM running the show.
I AM the same every day, forever.
I AM the owner of everything.
I AM the Lord.
I AM the Creator and Sustainer of life.
I AM the Saviour. 
I AM more than enough.
I AM inexhaustible and immeasurable.
I AM God. 

In a heartbeat, Moses knew God's name -- and something more. He finally knew his. For if God's name is I AM, Moses' name must be 'I am not.'

I am not the center of everything.
I am not in control.
I am not the solution
I am not all-powerful.
I am not calling the shots.
I am not the owner of anything.
I am not the Lord. 

That's my name, too. And  yours. 'I am not.' Just try it under your breath, 'My name is I am not.' "

Go through the 'I am not' list, saying each out loud. Crazy powerful, huh?

"Sure people might call you Tommy or Eddie or Amanda or Juan or Michelle or Erin or Michael. But, let's face it, when you get right down to it all of our names are 'I am not.' 

And God's name is still I AM. 

While Moses was still reeling, God continued, 'This is my name forever, the name by which I am to be remembered from generation to generation' (Exodus 3:15). In other words, God wanted Moses to know that not only would He remain the same, His name would endure to every generation that would inhabit the earth -- even to our generations, yours and mine.

I love this verse, because it puts us into the story. Oh, you may have just been calling Him God all these years -- and, in fact, that's who He is. But He gladly told Moses His name is I AM [BE] and that's still His name today. Right now. Wherever and whoever you are.

God is big. We are not. He is calling the shots, directing the script, and determining the plot. We are not. And, what's really wild is that while He doesn't need any of us, He is choosing to include us, inviting us into the story that never ends. 

Try to fathom it -- little you and me invited into the massive and mysterious story of the great I AM.

Are you up for it?"

And that's why as I look back on high school and all the years that have lead up to today, the shivers run up and down my back.

It's all about Him. And I am incredibly blessed to have been asked to be a part of His story. And He's done amazing things in my life that I can in no way be credited with. He takes center stage. I am nothing.

And that feeling of thankfulness and that blessed peace about my future that sprung out of my heart come from two things:

1. I am not.
2. He is I AM.

In Her Birthday

Jen-a-ben,

I don't know if there is possibly a post long enough, or words deep enough to describe everything that I'm feeling on this 16th birthday of yours. From the beginning, we've been more like twins than sisters. Remember all those matching outfits we would always get?

Whenever I have a problem, I can come talk to you, knowing that you'll give both advice and sympathy. I know that you understand the deepest parts of me, and sometimes I wish you didn't, because you can see right through anything I try to pull.

But I wouldn't change the relationship we have for anything. We can talk for hours, and yet you can tell when something's wrong without me saying anything.

By the way, I think this is my favouritest picture of you.... EVER.

You are my accountability partner and my best friend. (and I swear that you always will have the cutest baby pictures out of all of us)

I was once talking to Mom and she said, "The right person in our family got sick." Not that I would ever wish that on you again, but God knew who could handle that situation. Although many things happened, you allowed them to shape you and mold you into what you are today instead of becoming bitter and enclosed. Even while you were going through it, I remember you saying, "Maybe someday, what I'm going through can help someone else." And I am so proud that I can be known as your sister. You have an amazing compassion for the sick and the ability to see the long term even when you're feeling down. The littlest things matter to you, and you're always on the lookout for someone in need of a friend, regardless of whether you'll get anything out of it.

You're always giving.. giving advice, giving hugs, giving tickle fights, giving money, giving baking. We are so different, but I don't begrudge you the hours you spend playing in the kitchen. After all, I get to eat what you make! You don't care when people do, or don't, notice what you do. You're a servant, and I'm often shown up by the things you think up to do for others. Sometimes I think, "Woah, isn't that going over the edge? Won't that be awkward? They won't expect that!" But you're teaching me a different kind of service. A service that pushes boundaries into the uncomfortable and awkward because you care and you will go beyond the normal/expected to do the greater and the better.

Although I know you've been the more vocal out of the two of us in regards to the distance between us next year, I'm going to miss you horribly. Perhaps more than I think I will. I'll miss the times when you "intruded" when I was on the computer and just sat in my room doing your thing, or came and sat down next to me while I was reading a book and forced me to talk, or the nights when we would sit side by side on my bed and watch the cartoon version of the Avengers, or.... the list goes on and on.

I'm so incredibly proud of all that you've become and all that you are going to become. God is doing some incredible stuff through you, and I know that His plan for you goes beyond even my wildest wishes for you. I'm so proud that I can be known as your sister.

Your "Tisty"

Not an Accessory

I was talking to someone the other day, about the adventures of some my friends who are over in Asia right now. With everything that they see day to day, she said, "You start to really realize that God cannot be an accessory,  He is your very being."

Being back from Camp, where I can be lazy and choose not to meet with Him, it's so easy to descend to the level of making Him an accessory, as an extra in my day, instead of the very reason that I am living this day.

Right now, wherever you are, the breath you just breathed was given to you by One who holds your very existence in His hands. The things we worry about so much in life, things like jobs, careers, marriage partners, futures, all fall away as worthless when we realize what's really important.

I think that's why I love my sunsets/sunrises so much. The very expanse of the sky painted in varying colours reminds me why I am here. Of how nothing matters except for Him. Of course, normal life comes into play, and it's harder to see Him and how He works together with everyday life.

Throughout my day, I often find myself saying, "This is what I'm going to do. What do you think?" instead of "Here's what's going on... I know that You know about it already, and this is what I'm feeling... What should I do? I need Your wisdom." I put myself into the very driver's seat that He created.

It blows my mind that He chose to create humankind, already knowing the pain that it would cause Him, but also the great reward He would have in those who chose to follow Him anyway. That kind of God, the one who created everything we see, who spoke to Moses through the burning bush, still speaks to us everyday through other people, through His word. Crazy...

We undermine God with thinking that this life is about us. Because that's what the world wants us to think. Really... we're inconsequential. Rather, God chose us to be the messengers of His word. He could have just done it Himself, but by doing it through us, He's also refining us and teaching us more about Himself.

So often, I block that stream that longs to pour through me with my own worries, doubts, instead of abandoning myself to the One who created me. I create my own shell around my heart, thinking that He calls me to a life of sacrifice... and He does. But His rewards are so much better than what I think is good for me. Everything that He does for me is for my own good.

And I want to pursue with everything in me that God who created me for His joy, who laughs with me, who longs for me to meet with Him in the morning and yet doesn't need me in the slightest, but still pursues me passionately, who calls me to follow His lead in the complicated, twirling, amazing dance of life. And He promises that I will find Him.... so much more than an accessory.

In Her Smile

Do you ever have those moments that are so surreal that you feel as if you're being wrapped in ribbons of happiness and sealed with forever?

She came into my room, this little 9 year-old sister of mine, and asked me if I would put her to bed. Since I was only surfing on FB and talking to someone, I said sure, mindful of how few times I have left to do so, and how quickly she is growing up.

I caught her before she had walked out of my room, swooping her up into my arms, so that I was carrying her across-the-threshold style. Making our way down the hallway and into her tiny pink 'n purple room, I set her down on her bed and waited while she arranged her blankets just so. I lent a hand covering up her window for her (at least I'm taller than her!), and then sat back down as she snuggled down.

We started talking, but soon it evolved into me trying to make her break a solemn face. Which, you can guess, soon led into a tickle fight. That led to name-calling... or, more specifically, nut-calling. I called her a nut, she called me a walnut, I responded with the specification of peanut, she thought awhile and then shot back "Pecan!", to which I replied with "Pistachio!"... and then I won because she couldn't think of anymore and I still had "hazelnut" in my arsenal.

And she smiled. You should know, Boo, that you are absolutely beautiful. Big blue eyes, honey-blonde hair, little nose, a light sprinkling of freckles, and an amazing smile. And that's why I turned serious all of a sudden and said, "Never lose that smile, Boo." And you smiled back.

We're so much a like, and I want you to learn from a young age that you need to be who you are, no matter what the world says, or the image that is projected that you are supposedly supposed to live up to. It took me so long to learn that lesson, and if I can make it easier for you, I will.

I hope so much for your life, Boo. I'm so glad that you "like that I love you", and that you want to Skype when I'm gone.

We moved on to a touching-the-other-person's-nose battle and ended it with me holding her arms down while I prayed for her future and for a peaceful night.

Then I let go of her arms, unwrapped her feet from around my waist, attempted to close the door and booked it down the hallway to my mom's room, yelling "Sanction!" and hiding behind J.

We were both ordered back to her room, and I finally succeeded in putting her to bed.

And that one moment is cemented with her smile.

When I Am Overwhelmed

Although I've been posting bits and pieces of information about my time at Camp thus far, it hasn't really been personal, except for the extreme thankfulness that I feel in regard to people's prayers for our camps.

It's been exhausting, to be honest. It feels like going through diplomas, except a tad different, because you're dealing with children instead of black and white printed pieces of paper. You can't really prepare, but you still suffer from sleep deprivation.

To be honest, I didn't really know what to expect as this is my first year as a Sr. Counselor (no more moving between cabins every week. Boo yah!) And last year, I only Jr. Counseled for two weeks.

God's been teaching me so much about himself and myself, however, that I can't help but be overwhelmed with thankfulness and joy.

First of all, my dad, J and I drove up here on a Sunday, and on our way up here, we listened to a sermon by John Piper, in his Desiring God series. I'll see if I can find it later, but it had to do with the passage in John 14, where it talks about "if you love me, you will obey what I command."

If you're anything like me, you like step by step instructions on how to live your life, and this sounds like a wonderful thing. Look for God's commands, follow them, and then you're loving Him. Great, huh?

Nope.

It's been a week since I listened to the sermon, but the basis of it revolved around the fact that the commands that Jesus was talking about, were the non-specific ones, such as "follow me", "abide in me" and many others that can be found in John.

The thing is, those come after loving Jesus. Not before. They come as a result, not as a prelude.

Loving Jesus isn't following His commands, as radical as that sounds. I'm sorry if this makes no sense, but hopefully I'll be able to link to the sermon once I can get back to reliable internet. Loving Jesus is desiring, wanting, craving Him. And once we are doing that, we automatically begin fulfilling His commands. Because we find him lovely to be with, we're fulfilling the "abide in me" command. There are many more examples, but they aren't coming to mind.

Through everything that's happened so far, God's been impressing into me the importance of love. Of His love. Of my love for others. And most importantly, how the whole Gospel revolves around love. I need to make sure that they understand His love most of all, both through my actions and my words. That the kids grasp the fact that it is because He loved them so much that we have the chance to be saved.

How amazing is that? How utterly incomprehensible that the God of the universe finds us so desirable that He would kill His only Son to make us forever His?

It's as if He's making John 3:16 come alive to me.

Suffice it to say, I'm learning about love. A lot about love. And it's amazing stuff.

But He also overwhelms with His provision and timing. Long story short, I brought a music dock to Camp to play music from and to use as an alarm clock. When I got here, it wouldn't work. Now, it's never not (double negatives, I'm sorry) worked for me before, and I tried everything from changing batteries to unplugging and plugging it back in numerous times. Something was wrong with it.

And I was frustrated. The amazing thing is that I had brought my computer. I hadn't been sure whether or not I should bring it, but it's come in handy numerous times for both me and others. So I was glad that I could still play music off of it (really comes in handy when you depend on turning on Kenny G {sax music} to put your campers to sleep).

This morning, I was preparing for the next set of campers that are coming tonight, and I tried to get it working again. I had vented my frustration to God, I had prayed over it, I had tried so hard.

I unplugged it, walked with it to another cabin to see if maybe they could help me fix it. I get there, explain the problem, take out the batteries, and then notice that it's actually stopped working, which means that it is working (explanation: every time I would take the batteries out before {even when it was unplugged}, it would still keep on blinking... not sure what was going on there).

I was so unbelievably happy as I set it to the correct time and date. I don't know why He caused it to work so late, but I'm so glad that it is working, and I'm overwhelmed by His timing. He is SO good.

My summer is only starting, but already, I've gotten a sunburn, kissed a puppet, and learned a lot about God. I hope your summer is shaping up to equally excellent! :)

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.

In a Resolution

Although this blog is about sharing tidbits of my journey with you it's amazing how often I think of something to write that hits me as I write, and hits me again when I look back. So often, the whole process of putting things down on "paper" helps me see how He's truly working in my life.

So, I want to start making this a little more regular. For right now, I'm going to make it a window of every 3-4 days, but hopefully more often, especially as I get used to it.

As I've been contemplating the Holy Spirit's role in my life and beginning to learn how to listen to God's voice, I'm beginning to hear things right away.

Yesterday, as I was leaving Chapel, the Dr. stopped and asked me if everything was alright, as I had been sitting and praying for quite awhile. Answering with a simple, "Yes," I walked on.

Then I heard it: "Do it now." And to my mind came the picture of the announcements that scroll through the TV in our school lobby, and one announcement in particular. There was a slide about Senior Testimony's and every time I had seen it, I remembered I needed to actually talk to him about doing it, but so far had never really gotten around to it.

Turning around, I called to him and we talked for a few minutes about scheduling. As I left, the happiness settled... not a flighty exuberance, but a joyful peace. So, nothing settled yet, but when it is, I'll let you know so that anyone of you who wants to can come on out and hear a synopsis of what God's done in my life. There's so much to say, I don't even know exactly what I'll be saying yet.

And then there's these:

Yummy looking, yes?

My sister, her love language is quality time. And it's so easy to brush off her requests to play soccer or make cookies with her. Because, my love language isn't quality time.

But again, last night, I could hear it. Or, rather, feel it. The feeling that I don't have many of these times left, that I'd better take all the chances that I could, and that this was an act of service, of love, of-getting-off-the-computer-where-I-was-doing-mindless-things.

So, we made cookies. And I snitched. And they were, in fact, yummy. And gooey. And good.

So, I leave you with a picture of delicious white-and-pink polka-dotted toes (whose owner is a very special Monkey), and the hopes of seeing you here within the next 3-4 days.

God is good.

Near

Life's been getting the best of me. Like always.

But today, the prayer that I've been praying for awhile now was answered in a way that took my breathe away and left me literally rocking and in tears.

Chapel today was indescribable. Someone who graduated just 5 years ago came and spoke about the reality of God that he had learned from his time in New Zealand with YWAM.

But he also came with a word whispered by the Holy Spirit in the midst of a morning shower... a word about the truth of the Holy Spirit.

Sometimes I think that the Holy Spirit is hush-hushed in our society, pushed to the back because "those crazies" scare people.

Those crazies who not only believe but act on the power of the Holy Spirit. Those who believe that the gifts given by Him are real and alive today.

But this same Holy Spirit is our guarantor of our change in Christ, our seal and promise of a second coming. He is the one who brings insight, who opens up our ears to the small whisper of God's voice speaking truth into our hearts.

And I used to be scared of "those crazies".

It was two summers ago, in a cabin in the middle of summer camp when one night's devotional hit home and we had all formed a circle and one at a time went into the middle to be prayed for, to be held.

And as each brought their requests to the group, as we prayed fervently for wisdom, peace, joy, answers, and even healings, something happened.

The room seemed heavy with a cloaked warmness, as if we were all inside of a big warm blanket. I was sitting down, rocking slightly back and forth, overcome by the euphoria of who God truly is.

Have you ever felt it?

The pure joy of feeling God? The glimpse of His joy, His purpose, His love?

It's happened more than once. But that one night, I realized that I wanted to be one of "those crazies", to realize that there is a truly supernatural realm out there, far beyond what we can see, and that there is a powerful God who is willing to work amazing things and a Spirit that longs to work in each of our lives.

And today, after having survived this week, I was reminded of this.

Of the truth, the power, the need for the Holy Spirit.

And I was overcome. He's so very big and powerful and I'm so very unworthy. He's waiting to do so many spectacular things in, through, and in spite of, me. Me! Little, tiny, insignificant, used-to-be-sinner, me...

Through this, He opened my eyes to see how much influence I truly have on those around me, and how much more I need to use it for His glory and to make an impact.

I can truly say that this year is the first year that I have felt totally comfortable in my own skin. In some ways, I wish that I could relive some former years of school with the confidence that I have now. But it was through those very years of learning that I've come to the place that I am now.

But I have a huge realm of influence, and I need to be more open about the every-day-ness of God. To realize that He calls me to step out and do things that may seem crazy, to pray in the middle of a hallway, or to encourage everyone I see, to step out in faith.

So, if you would.... would you pray for me? I know that it's so easy to say things when you're on a spiritual high, when it seems as if everything's clear. So would you pray that this determination would continue, and that I would begin to seek the Holy Spirit and have Him work in me and through me. To not be afraid.

Would you also pray for this summer: I'm counseling at a wonderful camp for 6 weeks as a Sr. Counselor. And I'm scared stiff. I have the ability to make a huge impact on some girl's lives this summer and I want to start preparing for that now. Correction: He has the ability to have a huge impact on their lives. I just want to be used.

A willing and faithful vessel to my God who is very, very near.

In the Rain

Snow has been pervading these past few days as winter leaves behind a stamp of her possession of this Canadian land.

And a gloomy, unsatisfied, drifting feeling has accompanied that slowly trickling icing-powder-fine snow until it takes work to move beyond just existing, to really living.

But today.... today, it Rained. And Rain deserves to be capitalized. There's just something so satisfying in Rain. I heard it all the time when I was growing up, for half of the time, it's Rainy season over there, which means days of endless rain, of yelling across the supper table because of Rain pounding on a tin roof, of dressing in bathing suits and having mud fights, of making slip and slides underneath our clotheslines, and dancing around in the pure pleasure of Rain.

Now, it goes without saying that I can't do any of this anymore, at least.... I probably shouldn't. But there's still something satisfying about Rain: in hearing it, in walking while rivulets make paths down your jacket, in knowing that the world is being washed clean.

That very cleanness has been what has been missing these past few days. Piles of procrastination, listlessness, unfulfilled ambitions, and getting back to the school grind have smudged and begrimed the windows of my everyday view.

But this Rain, it brings something new. It brings hope, it brings forgiveness, it brings starting anew.

And life is so GOOD when it Rains.

When you catch yourself hugging a certain little Munchkin who is wearing a bright yellow hat with a pink flower in the middle of a sidewalk.... surrounded by Rain.

When you get home and eat spaghetti and listen to *a symphony orchestra from Congo* (which really has nothing to do with Rain, except it brings the same joy as Rain does).

When He calls you through the simplicity that Rain holds as an illustration, to let Him wash way the things you've been holding against others, Him, and yourself the past few days.

When everything's washed away, and your focus sharpens and you put things into the proper perspective and suddenly the fears diminish and the next few days don't seem as hectic, and decisions are, okay, still as hard to make, but you know how to make them...

Today... it Rained.

In Her Eyes

To my Munchkin:

You sat there on the bed, head bent down, resting. Your normally rambunctious spirit is growing up into a joyful, somewhat more subdued one. And I settle myself on the floor and look up into your eyes.

And I see need.

And so I fulfill it. "God loves you SOO much. Did you know that? And Rose loves you SOO much too." Your smile begins to creep across your face and your eyes change.
"Your Mum and Dad also love you. Your sister too, your helpers at work, the people you talk to in the middle of the street."
"They love you because of your smile..." You grin. "Because of your joy, because of your hugs, and because of who you are."

"You're growing up into a beautiful young lady." You points to herself, and I nod. "Yes, you."

And it's your eyes that have me captivated. Those eyes that can be green or blue depending on when and how I see them. They can be mischievous, sorry, joyful, sad, happy, angry, pouting, or needful.

And they tell me of a longing that some may see as unnecessary given your "disabilities."

They tell me of the longing to be loved for who you are inside. For who you are honestly, when everything that stands in the way is stripped away and your personality stands quivering under examination.

And I have come to know you for who you really are. I still find if funny how we can walk down a street hand in hand, honest-to-goodness having a conversation without you saying a word.

Your hands, your communication to the outside world... they are beautiful. People stare and I just smile back. Having known you, I wouldn't trade any of the misunderstandings, embarrassments, or frustrations for any of the hugs, tears of joy, laughs, conversations, walks, and moments that we have had together.

How little I knew when I first walked into your home so many months ago.

And how much I still have to learn about you.

How often have you had someone tell you what a beautiful person you are inside and out?

I don't think you realize how much of a gift you are to me. How much you've taught me in the eight or so months that we've known each other.

And I hope that I can give a little bit of that gift back to you. Affirming instead of reprimanding you. Giving you tough love when you need it, but also giving you new challenges to overcome.

To encourage you to grow and to not hold you back in the little box of what you are now when your potential is huge.

It's such a privilege to get to know you. When I spend time with you, the outside world stops. Number one, because you never hold to anyone's schedule but your own, so I've given up trying. But, number two, because being with you teaches me again and again what is important in the world.

I hope that I never lose your friendship, your trust, or your laughter.

But most of all, I hope that I never lose being able to see your eyes.... and through them.

~ Your Rose

In His Gifts

I woke up this morning, peeling open eyelids wanting desperately to shut, starting the conversation that I've had a million times before, inside of my head.

"Would you mind if I slept in, Father? Just today. I need an extra half-an-hour. I could maybe squeeze you in at such-and-such a time. What do you say?"

But even while all of this is running through my head, I know that I should be doing the hard thing and waking up and meeting with Him, because how close I am to Him depends on me... not Him.

It depends on the amount of time I am willing to spend getting to know the Creator who formed me beautifully and for His purposes.

And as I lay there this morning, having this silent conversation, I heard noises outside.

I got up by instinct, found nothing, and went into the bathroom to wash my face and put my contacts.

While I was doing so, my sleepiness was heavy on me, but all of a sudden this well of joy washed over me.

And I breathed in, and breathed out, and it washed over and over and over me.

I almost didn't want to move, but to live in the moment of joy, of connection..... of feeling.

It was there, at my lowest, that He showed me His unfathomable, undeniable, unforgettable joy.

* * * * *

I opened the door and motioned the teacher over. Hoping not to sound too desperate, I asked, "Is there any physical way that I could get an extension on this project?"

I was so tired, I had it kinda-not-really done (in case he said no), and I was feeling no competence on any level, much less genius.

And as I tried to list off my litany of woes without whining, but to prove my point, I was so relieved when he answered, "Yes." 

Now to get it done...

* * * * *

We walked home from the Global Connections service tonight, my little Boo and I. The only ones left in the house, it had taken some persuading, dragging, and use of authority, to get her to go, but she had gone.

And as we walked home, we jumped played the "lava lines" game (in which, if you are so ignorant as to not know the rules, you start with 15 to whatever-amount-you-want-to-make of lives, and then die successive deaths when you step on the sidewalk cracks or puddles). 

We pulled each other into puddles, jumped lines, skipped down the sidewalk, and laughed.

Her laughter is an amazing thing, this one that looks so much like me. And as I start a week where I am often placed in a position of authority, it's a nice reminder that laughter and enjoyment need to be part of everyday life, instead of only rules and regulations.

And He showed me the gift of life today. The gift of feeling in every moment, of breathing in and breathing out... and being.

As He Answers

I stood there at the foosball table, eyes roaming over the building scattered about with children playing, laughing... being engaged in activities. And as I waited for the next person to come along who would claim my attention, I prayed.

Leading up to this day, we had been told to pray constantly for these kids who were coming for the first time to this ministry.

So I sat there, bathing each precious face in prayer and begging Him to act on His promise of a future and a hope, of good and not evil.

And as I stood there, I heard the words.

Words mingled with music, laughter, shouting, words of instruction.... words that meant so much.

"I called, You answered. And You came to my rescue and I wanna be where You are..."

Repeated over and over and over.

Speaking of the power of One who does listen to prayers, but, even more, answers them. And even though these kids have been placed in a situation that seems desperate.... He knows.

He cares.... He loves... He answers.

And as I'm gone, and am physically too far away to lift up each face and to see that smile, and to shiver with joy inside at the beauty that He's made... I'm never too far away to pray.

I sit here, remembering all that has gone on... thinking with incredulity that two weeks ago, I was there.

And as He answers prayer about this summer, about who He is, about people that are close to my heart... He also answers my prayer for these ministries, for those godly people, for those children still there.

I'm learning a little bit day by day, what "pray without ceasing" means.

What talking, conversing, sharing, laughing at quirks, rejoicing... every moment... means.

And I'm learning how much He loves to hear my voice.

He loves to hear yours, too.

I can just imagine the smile that comes to His face when we bring Him the beautiful, the ugly, the snarls, the sweet sorrows, the pain.... our lives.

And I can just imagine Him saying in a voice just above a whisper, "My precious one... I love to hear you speak. To hear you say that your heart rejoices in what I have made, to hear it break for others less fortunate than you. But know... I made them, too. So don't worry.... I've got it covered."

So, although I remember their faces, I also remember that they are even more ever-present in His mind.

And I can let go of any worries that I hold.

And pray... knowing that He will, He does, He is going to... answer.

In Others

I watched your face that Friday night, as you echoed the conductor's movements. The jerks with your arms, the moving up and down with your head, the wide grin that spread across your face.

I watched you, as you watched them.

Musicians creating a masterpiece of beauty. Reconstructing music that you listened to when young. Bringing to life composers long dead.

I watched your face, one that has watched over me for over sixteen years now. Those brown eyes that crinkle when you laugh, that smile when I read excerpts of stories that made me laugh.

Those laugh lines that are well creased every day. The dark hair now glistening with gray.

Those arms that have held me close so often, when I've cried, when I've laughed, when I wake up in the morning and we're both in our pjs, and say good morning.

Those arms that make me feel oh, so *safe*. Those arms that are liberally sprinkled with freckles, ones that I've inherited, ones that you use to answer my question about time with, "Three freckles past a hair."

A face that I've come to respect and love so much.

A face that helps me see my heavenly Father so much clearer.

It was your Christmas gift, but it was also mine.

*****

We perched on desks, that Monday morning, brainstorming, creating, improvising, laughing. 

That group that has drawn me so close these past few months. That group that gives me the freedom to be myself. 

None of us know what we're getting ourselves into, but we all know that we are weak. 

And when we arrive in Colombia, we'll draw even closer together, forming a team that will give community a new meaning.

I'm so thankful for the camaraderie, of the letting go of stereotypes and former conclusions, for the willingness to see beyond the outside to what each individual is trying to keep hidden.

And I see Him... in every single one of you. 

*****

I walked into the store, causing a beeping to sound. And your helpers told me that you were coming. 

You appeared, decked out with jacket, scarf, hat, backpack, swimming bag, lunch bag and purse.

And you hugged me. 

Those hugs that seem to tell me that everything is alright, because there is such a thing as unconditional love.

We walk to your house, discussing what we're going to do next.

And I find it amazing that although I'm the only one that can speak, our conversations thrive. Your hands move quickly in repeated patterns, emphasizing what you want, and I reassure you that we can do what you desire. 

You finish eating and we set out, bundled up and shuffling down the sidewalk, heading out to meet people and get around.

And the frustration of former days comes to my mind and I softly ask you if you will make a promise to me, to not dawdle, but to do things succinctly and well.

You comply. It happens, and I am left amazed at the capacity your brain, that some call "disabled", has. 

The capacity to understand how to help those who hurt, to smile when I need a perk in my day, to stop for hugs at any time, even when in the middle of the street.

Sometimes I wonder what others think, but you show me that it doesn't matter. Because life is amazing, and hugs is your way of living.

It doesn't go perfectly, we struggle and argue. There are misunderstandings, but you say sorry and immediately come round with a hug again. 

It's that unconditional love that He's been teaching me through you. Love beyond what the promises you break, the days that go downhill, the times when I am tempted to give up. 

Love because of who you are. 

Love that you continually give to me.

*****

I pulled on my jacket as she pulled up. A friend transporting me to a place filled with friends. 

And even though there was studying to be done, a Diploma the next day, I needed those hours.

Hours spent stuffing myself with double-stuffed Oreos, Taco chips and salsa. Hours spent playing Dutch Blitz and Apples to Apples.

Hours spent surrounded by those who have meant so much to me these last three years. You guys have seen me grow spiritually in so many ways. 

To be surrounded by the leaders and girls of our Monday night Bible Study and the joy that was found in talking, shrieking in indignation, laughing about mistakes, sharing needs, and praying before we left.

And I feel so free, so safe, to able to express myself in ways often hidden, among that group. 

Free to make mistakes, admit my weakness, knowing that others understand and that when brought before Him in a group, my problems don't seem so big anymore. 

*****

And I am so thankful. 

Thankful for the way that He surrounds me with people like you.

Unbelievable people who grant me the freedom to make mistakes, to learn, and to be myself.

Thank you.

Faithful

Although this new phrase came into my attention more than a week ago, I've simply been either too swamped or lazy to have written anything about it.

Once again, I was flipping through my Bible, looking at all the things that He had shown me while I had read through it (I finished reading through it for the second time this past year). Finding underlined commandments, promises, challenges and everything else that is found in this amazing book.

Somehow the Old Testament has always held a big fascination to me. Looking at my Bible, there is considerably more gilt rubbed off the pages at the top of the first half than in the latter half.

I think it has something to do with promises. 

They're always there, and in times when I feel as if everything else is going downhill, I know that I can claim them and that everything else is under His control. 

And I reached the famous passage of Jeremiah 29:11, and read all three of the verses I had underlined there: 

"For I know the plans I have for you," says the LORD. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me." Jeremiah 29:11-13 (NLT)

And as much as the first verse has hit me hard in the past, it was the last one that caught my attention. 

Because there are no ands... no buts... no what ifs. 

If I pursue him wholeheartedly, letting go of all distractions, and search for Him in the brokenness, in the joy, in the pain, in the delight, in the everyday and the ordinary.... I will find Him.

The Creator, Father, Son, Holy Spirit, Lover, Provider, my All in All, and everything else that He is. 

And that's my pursuit this year. 

To seek Him with nothing held back. 

Knowing that I will find Him in the fullness of all that He is. 

Knowing... that He is faithful. 

Fluid Joy

I remember the very first time I saw it... as mine. As something belonging to me... that I could own.

Mr. J opened the case, and I caught a glimpse of gleaming silver, and I remembered all the other people I had known who could play the flute. And I was scared. Scared of trying something new. I didn't think that I was musical, besides being able to sing.

But the shine of the silver, and the velvet of the case was only the beginning.

He tenderly extricated the pieces, pushed them into one another and played a simple scale.

And I was hooked.

That sound... like liquid silver moving through the atmosphere to reach a listener's ear with a message of pure beauty.

Yes, he was a master, but I knew that I wanted to be able to do that.

And I learned to. It took work, but under his gentle hand, my fingers started moving faster, my eyes recognized the notes more quickly, and my tone came more smoothly.

Soon, I felt confident. I owned the sound that I could make on the instrument. I felt like I had mastered it to some degree.

And then I saw the Senior High Band playing, and learned that the next year, I would have to learn to improv.

My heart sank. I started to dread.

But I trusted him when he said that I would pick it up, that it wouldn't really be that hard at all.

He was right.

I remember the first time I closed my eyes and improved off of a blues scale... one note with different rhythms.

And I was hooked.

Besides writing, being musical is one of the ways that I express myself, and I had never realized the invisible boundaries I had formerly felt myself acquiescing to.

But now those boundaries were gone, and I felt free. Sometimes, when I get tired of playing the same songs over and over for practice time, I still just play a song I make up.

It's just like poetry.

It's fluid joy to hear a flute played well.

And for so long, that joy has been missing. It hasn't only been with the absence of Mr. J, although that does contribute.

It has to do with life getting busier and busier and my priorities looking elsewhere. Soon, Band practice became more of a duty than a joy.

It didn't help when I got braces and couldn't play until my mouth had learned how to readjust my embouchure.

But as I played Christmas carols tonight, and sang a trio with my father and sister, that joy came springing back. We have more complicated pieces to work on now, and I find myself returning to my love of my instrument.

I think it has to do with my viewpoint as well. I'm starting to return to seeing the little as significant, and the looming as little. And I play... for fun.

To hear a simple C, and at the same time physically hear the sound of fluid joy.