There's a Peace That Cometh After Sorrow

There's a peace that cometh after sorrow
Of hope surrendered, not of hope fulfilled;
A peace that looketh not upon to-morrow,
but calmly on a tempest that is stilled.

A peace which lives not now in joy's excesses,
Nor in the happy life of love secure;
But in the unerring strength the heart possesses
Of conflicts won while learning to endure.

A peace there is, in sacrifice secluded;
A life subdued, from will and passion free;
'Tis not the peace which over Eden brooded,
But that which triumphed in Gethsemane.

by Jessie Rose Gates

Peace That Passes Understanding

About four years ago, right after Katie died, I was going through a rough patch with another friend who'd also loved and lost Katie. It was a rough time for all of us, and I was heartbroken that I couldn't be there for her. There were many conversations with my dad about it and about wishing the hurt and pain would go away. Pain was a constant companion during those days.

Dad made a comment that I doubt I will ever forget. He was talking about with every day that passed, every day that I lived through the pain and hurt and disillusionment and everything else that comes along with losing a friend, I was digging a well. Of course the analogy sounded pretty cool, but I had no idea of the truth he spoke of. He said that during those really hard days, all that there was to do was to keep digging. He said that I would eventually hit a spring.. a well of water that would one day give me strength. I couldn't see it then, but his words were so true.

Here I am, 6 or 7 weeks away (hopefully) from moving to Kenya. I just moved in with a friend last week, finally got the stuff out of my boxes, put away in their places, I even went through bags of stuff to price them for a garage sale that I'm going to have. Everything was finally coming together. And then it all flipped. I have to move out. Totally unexpected, out-of-the-blue, throw me for a loop.

Its not the easiest thing to find a place to live for six weeks in exchange for something other than rent. I might have to move in with my parents. The only problem is that I was supposed to start work at Starbucks on Monday, and mom and dad live 45 minutes away. I could commute, but I need to sell my car. And there's really no point in communting 45 minutes each way every day when the DFW metroplex is COVERED in Starbucks. Then there's the DART system, which I have no idea how to use. Dallas Area Rapid Transit is a phenomenon to me, and I would have no idea where to start in trying to figure it out. But, I've always loved public transportation - its a great time for people watching.

So with that, and nannying 5 and 7 year old sisters that are constantly at each others throats, things have been pretty rough lately. I sit here just flat out exhausted, emotionally, physically, mentally. Thank goodness for morning cartoons! Other than the occasional need to be the center of attention, Rachel is really easy to care for in the mornings. Her sister is off at school, so things are really quiet. Now's the time to gather thoughts, sort them out, and release them to the Lord.

Moving in with mom and dad wouldn't be bad at all. While I was talking to mom, trying to hold back tears yesterday from all that was going on, she simply said.. "We weren't expecting it, but we will get through it. It will be okay." I find hope and strength in that. I've come to the opinion that things going wrong is sometimes a good sign. Not like a sign, sign... but I would tend to worry if nothing at all went wrong. It just seems like the more important things are, the harder we have to fight for them, especially when they have spiritual implications.

I am frustrated and I don't understand most of what's going on, and really, I could use a good nap.. but I can see now that I understand my dad's analogy about the well. Had I not gone through hard, frustrating things in life, something like this would send me over the edge. If God hadn't shown me his constant faithfulness over and over again throughout the years, I would not trust in him today. I know my nature and I know my human heart. It is not capable in believing in anything on its own.. it takes the grace of the Savior to get me that far, let alone take my focus off myself for any amount of time. There's a song by T.J. McCloud called "I Am":

"I am impatient, impulsive, irrational at times. And I am ungrateful in this heart so full of pride. I can be rude, and I don't tell the truth all of the time. All this is true, and then there's you - everything that I am not

You are I AM, and I am not worthy of the blood of the Lamb that you spilled for me and I would never offer anything, but I've been covered up by you, the I AM.

I am so fleeting, so faithless, so full of my desires. And I am unworthy of this love that lifts me high. When the best that I do is as rags unto you, still you give me your love. You are all that is true - the great I AM, and everything that I am not

You are I AM, and I am not worthy of the blood of the Lamb that you spilled for me
and I would never offer anything, but I've been covered up by you, the I AM.

I am covered in love by the I AM, something I just can't understand. You make me new again and again, again and again...

You are I AM, and I am not worthy of the blood of the Lamb that you spilled for me
and I would never offer anything, but I've been covered up by you, the I AM."


So I've come to this place and I don't understand what the heck is going on, but I can't get past the fact that He sees and He knows. Despite the fact that everything has been thrown all over the place and flipped upside-down and every which way possible.. I still trust and believe that I am supposed to be in Kenya this fall. There's a peace that passes understanding ... and it truly passes understanding.

Killer Stress

So the past week has been... stressful. Nat's new roommate is moving her stuff in as her lease is ending soon, and so things are out of their usual messy-order and thrown into an unusually messy-order, boxes stacked on eachother, my paintings stacked on top of Natalie's piano, etc. You get the idea. And then I realize.. oh.. I have to move out so she can move in.. and I should probably start packing then? One would assume, yes. So with the ever-sturdy, ever-trustworthy liquor boxes in hand, I begin to tear apart, throw away, reminisce, etc.. which we've already talked about. But with all of this comes less sleep. I'm a light sleeper when it comes to the subconscious. Meaning, if there's anything at all going on in life at the time, chances are I won't sleep. As there happens to be just a little bit going on right now, there's been a little less sleep... maybe I'll get 3 or 4 hours a night if I'm lucky? Needless to say, I've gone into work late this week ('cause I have a super cool boss and since I work for a church, I can. :)) but I've also stayed late. So today, it was 11:30ish that I went in, but I didn't leave until after 9. It was the last day, so there was more than usual. Lots of things to wrap up, notes to leave on where things where, and since one of my co-workers had his 4 year old daughter there today, lots of balloons to blow up and let fly away.. and more blowing up.. and flying away. After I got home I had to finish packing because my room had self-exploded all over the place. Then my friend Laurie called around.. I don't know when, and as soon as I saw her name on my caller id, I realized that the case studies I'd promised to translate for her were still in my car.. translated, but not in her hands. She's flying out to Mexico tomorrow on a mission trip.

I keep trying to find something just really funny in the midst of all this because I'm gonna need some major stress relief SOON. I guess the question is how to survive the moment by moment changes that these next few months will bring.. moving in with my friend until August, interviewing for a new job and praying that they don't ask me how long I see myself there, moving out of my friend's house, quitting my new job, packing for Kenya, and then moving to Kenya.. for 5 months.

Honestly, bucket baths and generated electricity are sounding REALLY good right now. It's like a forced down time. I just can't wait to meet the kids and teachers.

I'm so thankful that the Lord prepares our hearts for different phases of life. That's just the most gracious, merciful thing He could do really... How would we survive otherwise?

Mallards, Tire Swings, Baby Shamu, & Liquor Boxes

Tomorrow is my last day of work and I approach it with many mixed feelings. There are a lot of things I probably won't miss, and others that I'm sure I will. I found out today that I am an expert paper-cutter. Yes.. it's quite a talent really.. you've got to make sure the edges are nice and even, and you can't get too carried away with the slicer-thingy, because you could totally mess up your piece of paper (or fingers) if you slice too quickly..

Okay, whatever. So this job at Cristo Rey was supposed to last longer than this... that was my intention anyway. I guess the Lord thought He would pull a fast one on me and change my burden for a while from Latin America to Africa. Not that I don't love L.A. anymore, my focus has just shifted for a little while. So as I sat at my desk, jammin' out to some great tunes and freezing to death (I was not made for AC that works well..) I was thinking about the little joys in life and how greatly the Lord has blessed me with such a gracious boss and co-workers when I see these two little mallards waddling down the sidewalk. I'm always surprised to see them because they just don't belong there. But every time it rains, they appear from nowhere. So I tried to sneak up behind them to take a good picture, but they were too smart for me... Sneaky little guys, watching me with their little heads turned. There's something about ducks that makes me just really happy, like a little kid. Everybody likes ducks.. I haven't met anybody that doesn't.

So I spent a few hours tonight going through all my stuff and throwing a lot of it away.. lots of Spanish papers that I'd once sworn to never get rid of, just because of the sheer frustration and loss of brain cells from that class. Those papers were a reminder of the ridiculousness we all went through. There are a lot of memories in those boxes in my closet. Newspaper articles from when I was a baby-4 yrs. old: one of mom holding me on her lap while she played the piano and another of me playing on a tire swing with my long hair hanging down. I also found this video that I watched literally ALL THE TIME when I was a kid... most girls were obsessed with dolls or playing house, etc.. I watched baby Shamu being born. Over and over and over and over. There was some special on 60 minutes and my Grandma and Grandpa recorded it. Whenever we went to their house for vacation, I'd pull out Shamu and my brother would die, protesting that we'd seen it a million times already, and how could I possibly want to watch it AGAIN? (I think I might have to make a copy of it and hide it in his cabinet, just for old time's sake..) I wonder which he thought was worse, Shamu or The Sound of Music?

So my room is pretty much a disaster area right now. Papers all over the place, stacks of books, bags of stuff to give away, random things that I'm not exactly sure what to do with because I don't know where they came from in the first place... little disposable cameras that still haven't been developed from how many years ago?
How is it possible that we acquire so much... STUFF? What is it really worth anyway? I'm a pretty sentimental person; I can attach sentiment to almost anything if I try. But I promised that I was going to be detached and focused while going through my stuff, because really, if I don't remember in 5 months that I ever had it, did it really mean anything anyway? Probably not. So I take it all of the boxes and envelopes, go through it all page by page, picture by picture, random thing by random thing, and weigh its value, asking if I'll want to remember it in 6 months time, and if the answer is.. eehh not so much, then into the garbage sack it goes..! All the other stuff, which is becoming less and less, I somehow stuff it into these little liquor boxes, which by the way, are the best ones for packing.

Yeah, and make that another weird moment of the day. Even though I've been gone from Harding now for a year and a half, I still have these slight hesitations when it comes to things like.. alcohol. Having moved, oh, 9 times I think in the past 12 years or so, I know how to pack. I know how to roll the clothes and pack half heavy, half light in one box so as not to break someone's back.. and I know that the really good boxes are either book boxes, from like Barnes and Noble, or liquor boxes. When I was walking into the store tonight to ask if they had any empty boxes that I could have, Natalie rolled down the window and loudly whispered "YOU'RE GOING INTO A LIQUOR STORE!" (dork.. :)) But I always chuckle inside, thinking, if this were only two years ago, I so could have gotten kicked out.

Be Aware of What's Around You

For 21 years, the people in Northern Uganda have been at war. Only this war is not their own. The LRA (Lord's Resistance Army)began with Alice Lakwena, a spirit-posessed woman, who believed that it was God's will for her to overthrow the Ugandan government. Kony, the current leader of the LRA, claimed to be her cousin and followed her as leader of the LRA. Since the adults have grown tired of war, the LRA began kidnapping children as young as 5 and forced them to become soldiers. These children experienced violent indoctrination, brainwashing, and were forced to witness murders and commit violent murders as well. The LRA chose to abduct children that small because they were big enough to carry a gun, yet small enough to sneak into villages and homes and kidnap other children.

In effort to keep their people safe, the Ugandan government gave the people 48 hours to leave their homes and commute to an internal displacement camp, where thousands of people would live together. However, this temporary solution has not only turned into a permenant living condition, but it has also become one of the worst humanitarian crisis ever. Children die every 15 seconds from malaria. Thousands of people die each year from diseases that are caused by the water. The solution is simple: Give them back their homes, give them clean water.

On April 28th, tens of thousands of people traveled to 15 different cities all over the United States to make a stand for those living in the displacement camps in Northern Uganda. While there, the Invisible Children crew filmed a variety of things, including the group holding up banners, that put together will form a poem. This video will be edited to form a video petition that will be shown before the Senate in a couple of weeks. More than 67,000 people left their homes for one night to sleep outside in cardboard huts to represent the tens of thousands that have been living in horrific poverty for 10 years.

When we arrived, we were to turn in our water and crackers, which would later be rationed out. During the course of the evening, we wrote our Senators, we called 5 people who don't know about the invisible children to explain it to them, we had 21 minutes of prayer and silence for every year that Uganda has experienced war, and there were various video clips informing us of the situation in the IDP camps. Jacob, a former child soldier, was our keynote speaker and did an amazing job of sharing his heart and the importance of the event.



Just because these people are thousands of miles away does not mean that your voice can't have an affect on the way that they live. The place that you live should not determine the way that you live. Please go to www.invisiblechildren.com for more information. Educate yourself on the situation in Uganda and use your time, money and talent to do something about it.

Human Slingshots

I just want to bury myself in a dark hole, wrap myself in a blanket, and sleep. I want to forget about this broken world and the state of sin that we all live in. I long to be with my Savior. But since I am still here, I just want to hide. My soul feels tired, stretched out, waiting to be released.

My heart is with the poor. I'm in the middle of reading tons of books on modern-day slavery and human trafficking, watching whatever video I can that has anything to do with it, constantly thinking, trying to come up with different possibilities that might make a difference. My heart longs to be somewhere, anywhere, helping those that cannot help themselves. It makes so many things here seem pointless. That's something I'm fighting against. I watched the movie Tsotsi right before going to play cards with my friends tonight. I probably should have waited, because it broke my heart. So much of the world lives the way Tsotsi did in the movie. Doing whatever it takes to make ends meet, to make the pain go away, anything to survive. Few find enough hope to change things or do the right thing, depending on their circumstances.

I know I'm just rambling now, but I did realize tonight that my guard is still up. I thought it was down. It's not. It's still there. And right now, I can barely breathe. There's still that voice inside saying, "If you really knew me, you wouldn't give me the time of day.. so I'll show you enough to let you think you know me, but not enough so that you run away." Maybe its something we all do. I think its part of human nature.

I feel stretched, like a slingshot. Just when I think that the Lord can't break me anymore, He finds a new way and pulls me back a little further, Aunt Gayle passed away a few weeks ago with a lot of unresolved issues with her brothers; a little farther, Grandma's Alzheimers is so bad that she doesn't know me anymore; a little farther... the tension grows, you'd think the slingshot would have snapped in two by now. Still a little further, and a little further. Every now and then, the reminder comes that He hasn't forgotten me here, that even though he keeps pulling me back further and further, just when I least expect it, He's going to let go and let me go flying in all His glory and grace. Hopefully that day will come soon when He will release me to live out the passion in my heart. Until that day I have to remember to take hope in that He's preparing me. With each tug, pull, break he is molding me and shaping me.

So in the meantime, I have to not let myself run away.

Still

The more I get alone
The more I see I need to get alone more
'Cause just when I think that I'm alone
Your spirit calls out to me
And even silence has a song
'Cause that's when You come sing over me

Still, let me be still
Let me be okay
With the quiet in my heart
Still, I want to be still
I'm so quick to move
Instead of listening to You
Shut my mouth
Crush my pride
Give me the tears of a broken life
Still

Of this world it falls around me
And flutters all its beauty in my eyes
But let me choose the solitude
Simplicity has always changed my life
And even stillness makes me move,
'cause that's when my heart learns to dance with You

Still, let me be still
Let me be okay
With the quiet in my heart
Still, I want to be still
I'm so quick to move
Instead of listening to you
I'm your child, tame my heart
Obedience to me impart
Still

Hold me
Cleanse me
Change me, Oh God,
Change me while I am
Still, let me be still
And know that you are God
You're always enough
Still, I want to be still
To take all that I am
And simply lift it up
Shut my mouth
Crush my pride
Give me the tears of a broken life
Still

-Watermark

Hashing Things Out - Raw Honesty

It frustrates me because the Lord knows my heart, he knows what I long for. He knows that I am not at home here, that I'd rather live with the poor in Latin America than with the rich or even middle class here in the states. Why am I here? I know that He's teaching me, I know that He's molding me, but the problem is that He's ALWAYS going to be teaching me and molding me! That's never going to end! I mean really... will there ever come a day that I will say, okay Lord, I think I've fixed everything that needs to be fixed, so now you can move me or bring me someone... no, b/c I cant fix myself. Will there ever be a day that I say, okay you've changed me enough, so its time bring it now...whatever it is... no. Because there will always be something that he's changing in me and always something that needs to improve. How am I supposed to be ready for something if He does not decide that I am ready? And how do I know when that is? How am I supposed to know what he wants from me when I feel like I'm in a bubble and suffocating? Don't get me wrong, I do love my new job. I do... and I love that God is helping me get a grasp on this depression stuff. But at the rate that this is going, I feel like I have to be free from my depression before he ever brings me someone... like its something that's in the way. And then I ask, do I not depend on him enough? Do I not read my Bible enough? Do I not pray enough? Is that why its not happening to me, as if God making my hearts desires come true were dependent on how much I read or pray. No, God making my dreams come true is only a matter of his grace, not what I do or not do... but those are my thought processes. What do I have to DO to get God to give me the desires of my heart. What makes someone ready vs. not ready?

So I cry out to God "how long... how long will you make me wait?" And then I think... just a little longer, till I'm not tired of waiting anymore. but does that happen? It seems as though the heart just grows apathetic when it doesnt have anything to hope for.

Do I have anything to hope for? ..Yes.. but as of this moment, i dont hope for things. I am thankful for thigns, but I dont hope for things. I am thankful for my job at the church. I am thankful that I'm sleeping better. I'm thankful for my family, that my parents are still married and that my brother found an incredible, Godly wife. I'm thankful for my friends. They've seen the best and worst in me and still haven't walked away from me. I'm thankful that I speak Spanish, that I was able to spend a year and a half in Latin America, that I can communicate with people of another culture. I'm thankful that there are people out there doing what I want to do with the rest of my life - working with people trapped in modern-day slavery. I am thankful that I have a car, even though its a piece of poop. I'm thankful that I have clothes and food and shoes and socks... hot water for showers and hot tea, a bed to sleep in, a closet to put clothes in... 10 fingers and ten toes! I'm thankful that I don't have a major illness or that I don't have to be fed through a tube. I am thankful that I can walk on my own, that I can use my hands, that I can see and speak and hear. I am thankful for all of these things and more! But do I hope for things? No. I have a dream of moving back to Latin America, of adopting kids, of working with orphans or kids sold into prostitution or street kids or anything of the sort... just poor, broken people. It seems like a noble enough dream, right, to help those less fortunate? Its definitely a God-given burden, because I live in the middle of prosperity here in Dallas, and none of them seem to really know that people are still sold as slaves or that others live in the middle of a garbage dump that stretches for miles and miles and that all they do all day long is look for stuff to recycle so that they can make a couple of bucks day to just survive... and that kids run around in the dump without shoes or socks, maybe a shirt and shorts if they're lucky... and that they share their homes with pigs larger than humans and vultures larger than giants, and dump trucks that make the earth quake when it passes by... They don't seem to know that this bubble that we live in isn't really real. I don't want to stay here. I dont want to become comfortable. I don't want to acquire nice things and nice clothes or a nice car... I dont want a big diamond ring, or any diamond ring at all! Give me a piece of string or a coconut ring for all I care! I have seen too much in this life, I have witnessed too much to shut my eyes to it, to turn my back and pretend I didn't see. And so living here and climbing up some ladder and accumulating things does not fit very well in my life. I only want what in the end really matters... to make a lasting, eternal difference for the glory of God. And I would really like to share that with someone who shares the same vision.

So... this is my heart screaming out loud. That's what it sounds like. I haven't held back on this one because I'm tired of censoring my thoughts for the sake of "what will they think or say?" The Lord knows, he's heard it all before. But this time the cries are louder than usual, and for any relief, I have to write it down. I have to get it out of my head and out there.. wherever there is...

The thing about hope is that it's too difficult. I don't feel like I have the luxury of hoping for things. Because when I hope for things, there's too much room for let down. I know that its a lie from the pit of hell. I know that its not what the cross is all about. The only thing that I find myself hoping for is the day that will turn into an eternity with him. That's the only sure thing that I can hope for! Because in the end, all else seems fleeting. In the end, does the gospel depend on me marrying someone? Does it depend on my living here or moving to Latin America? Does it depend on whether or not I work with street kids? ...Not really... Because when it comes down to it, the Lord will use whoever He wants to use to spread his word, and He's already won the battle. What matters is that his truth is preached and that his love is spread all over, no matter where I am or who I am with or what I do. What matters is that God is glorified.

So... is the key then to hope IN things or hope FOR things? I cannot put my hope in man, because he will surely let me down. I cannot put my hope in things, because they aren't eternal. All that I can put my hope in is the Lord and the salvation that I have found in Him... and the hope that he's not through with me yet. But as for hoping for things... I know that its not wrong, I know that its not bad, and I know that the Lord wants us to hope for things of Him. The problem is how to shut up the lie in my head that its not worth hoping for things that I may never get, how to let hope lead me to my knees in prayer, how to not let my heart grow cold while I wait and wait and wait... and wait some more if that's what it takes.

I feel like I'm digging... Like I've gone out into a field of hardened earth and that I'm just hacking away, hashing all of this out in my heart and mind, digging, hacking, chopping away at the hard earth. Throw the weeds away, shake out the good soil, and plant some seeds. Sometimes things in life just need to be hashed out. Thankfully He's big enough to handle it, otherwise I'd be in trouble.

All I can ask for is that You, oh Lord, continue to hash out life with me and that You continue to lead me and soften me to your will, whatever that may be.

"Got a stack of books so I could learn how to live. Many are left half-read, covered by the cobwebs on the shelf. And I got a list of laws growing longer everyday, and if I keep plugging away, maybe one day I'll perfect myself. Oh, but all of my labor seems to be in vain. And all of my laws just cause me more pain. So I fall before you in all of my shame, ready and willing to be changed. Own me, take all that I am and heal me with the blood of the Lamb. Mold me with your gracious hand. Break me till I'm only Yours.. Own me. Oh You call me daughter, and You take my blame. And You run to meet me when I cry out your name. So I fall before You in all of my shame. Lord I am willing to be changed. Own me, take all that I am and heal me with the blood of the Lamb. Mold me, by your gracious hand, break me till I'm only Yours... Own me..." - Ginny Owens

One Way Love

A couple of weeks ago, I heard a thought at church that totally disturbed me and convicted me. Love is not a two way street. It's a one way street. What?? Yes... But no... Love isn't love if its not returned, or so that's what society thinks. How many times do we say "I'm tired of this friendship/relationship... they aren't giving anything back?" Or how many people do we know that are "takers" and just take and take and take and don't give back?  We all know them. We all have someone like that.  Society, and probably even wise council, would tell us to let it go because we can't let them suck us dry, right?  I'm sure there is some truth to that, but why would he say love is a one way street? I didn't get it. And then, as he explained, I got it. I understood. And I was ashamed of myself.

Jesus, God in the form of a baby, came to us to grow up, walk the earth, reach out to the sinners, destitute, and broken: the untouchables. Then he gave himself up and died. Why? Because of love. He so desperately loved these humans, these wretched, selfish humans. He loved them despite themselves. He died, He rose again. But until the day we are reunited with Him, I have to consider this one way love business. Is there any possible way that we would be able to reciprocate God's love to the extent that He would feel like we loved him as much as he loves us? Is there anything that we can do that would make up for what he's done for us? No. No matter how much we love him, it's not even a drop in the bucket compared to his love for us. No matter what we do in his name, for his name, by his name, it counts as nothing compared to what he's done for us. This is one way love.

The next question posed was are we able to love with a o ne way love? I'd like to think so, but it's so hard. I get so discouraged when I reach out to people and try to get to know them, but they don't reciprocate.After a while of being the only one to put out effort, I stop trying. It's a two way street, we say. But is that the right way of thinking? Is that pleasing in God's sight? After all, aren't we supposed to go to him to fill us up? Yes, church and fellowship fill us, but isn't he supposed to be our main source of life, joy, peace, and anything else good in life? Because if he is, and if I want to be like him, and if I am supposed to love like he does, then I have to give all that I have to give no matter the outcome, no matter if it is returned or not. I am to love unconditionally, purely. No hidden agenda, no strings attached. I think then and only then will I understand what Christlike  love really is.

Katie

I started drawing again. Drawing used to be a huge part of my life. But after Katie died, I drew a picture of her and Meghan, and then I stopped drawing. It was like I put everything inside of me into that one, and then after that, I couldn't do anything else without being over-critical or freaking out that I'd lost my ability to draw or whatever. But one night when I got home last week I sat down, pulled out a picture and just started drawing again.

I usually only write when something is really heavy on my heart or mind... but right now, it's not really one of those times. The Lord has brought me through so much over the past year that I feel like this is "the calm" in between. Healing, as weird as it may seem, is a hard process to go through. I'm realizing that. But as the Lord heals me, I feel more and more free than I ever have before. I wish people here could see it, but they don't. I don't know why. It takes so long to get to know people... so long. Maybe that's why its so hard at this age to make new friends... just b/c people already have theirs and they don't want to try anymore or be vulnerable with anybody else. It's sad really. I don't know how I started thinking about that. On the way home last night, after going to see a movie with a friend, I just got really really homesick for heaven. I think that may be a part of the calm, part of the healing. It's like reaching a new plateau. You climb for so long and then level out for a little bit. Then you start all over again. Its usually after He's stirred things up and then started to settle them down again that I really just want to go home.

And then I started thinking about Katie last night. I have a video of her somewhere that I want to pull out and watch. I miss her right now. Her smile, her laugh, her mannerisms.. her forgetfulness.. everything. She had the most radiant smile, the most beautiful eyes. I wonder why God took her. Not even that he took her really. The only reason I say that is because the last thing she wrote in her journal was that she just wanted to be with Him. What kind of love relationship is that?? Really. I wish I could have been inside her heart and mind. To know that you are going to fall off a cliff and turn around and look at your boyfriend and friend in the eyes and just.. go.. and not even scream? To just be so ready, that you just embrace death? She was just SO IN LOVE with Jesus that she wanted to be with him more than anyone else. And its nights like last night when I just want to go home that I really miss her... because she's with him.

I wish memories didn't fade. I wish there were a way to hang on to their vividness. In two weeks, it will have been 4 years since she died. Yet sometimes, when I remember her, my breath catches, my heart aches, my eyes water, and it feels like yesterday. Yet... to see where we are now. Oh, how He has restored us and brought us back to life. I look at pictures of people from our group and the light is back in their eyes, joy in their hearts, peace in their souls. It would not be as great a story had He not restored us like he has.

To live with that kind of abandon. To love with that kind of love... selfless, expecting nothing in return, pure. To have your heart, mind, soul, spirit, everything inside of you so set on one thing that not death itself can make you afraid. No she wasn't perfect. She was human. But this is her legacy.

More Important Than That

I was challenged and convicted tonight as we sat together and spoke of the man who wanted Jesus to wait for him to go and bury his father before leaving to follow him. (Matt. 8:21,22) Jesus' response? Follow me, let the dead bury the dead. The implications of this really hit me hard. Ever since Katie died, closure has been an absolute necessity for me.

The last time I saw Katie was Friday morning, January 31, 2003... She died the next morning in a climbing accident. I never saw her again. Because she was alive the last time I saw her, I spent the next month waiting for her to walk around the corner or come out of her dorm... Every tall brunette with a blue jean jacket was Katie. Every time I heard her name, my heart jumped as I turned around to look for her, and it broke all over again as I realized once again that she was gone. I don't remember how long it took me to get past looking for her everywhere I went or to stop waiting for her to appear. But ever since then, closure has been a necessity.

When I think of Jesus telling this man to follow him and not go to bury his father, my heart breaks for the man... It doesn't seem fair. He would have to leave his mother or any other family, not go to his father's funeral, and follow Christ... It wasn't like Christ waited for the man's response, and then pulling him aside he tells him to go and bury his father, that he would wait for him. No, he said follow me... let the dead bury the dead. Here Jesus is saying "I am more important than that. Follow me." ...I am more important than your father, more important than your family, more important than your desires, more important than life itself... follow me.

I am convicted. I am ashamed. I long to love Christ like that... to leave all and follow him. To just lay it down... to believe in something so much that nothing else in life matters. Lord, please help my unbelief!

Trusting with My Eyes Closed

If I could for just a few minutes have an end to this relentless thing...
This trusting with my eyes closed
Maybe then I could see a little more clearly

If I could only take a breath without gasping for the next
Without stopping to catch my breath
Maybe then I could raise my eyes to the heavens

If I could only pray without fighting through the fog
The neverending, ceaseless fog
Maybe then I could also know you're near me

If I keep pushing, trudging, and make it through the day
What will the next day hold?
Will this one be the same as the next?

This thing... the thing I call trusting with my eyes closed
Breathing with my eyes closed
Walking with my eyes closed
Did you know that it would be this way?

If I know you... and I believe that I do
Then I know that you've got me in your hand
If I've caught a glimpse of you... and I believe that I have
Then I know that you've caught a glimpse of me too

So much more than a glimpse into the depths of my heart
Into the valleys of my soul
Into the emptiness, the wasteland

If you see me here... and I know that you do
Won't you give me relief?
If you are holding me here... and I know that you are
Won't you let me rest in your arms?

If I could for just a few minutes have an end to this relentless thing...
This trusting with my eyes closed
Maybe then I could follow a little more near

All Things New

They say that this summer has been one of the hottest and dryest in dallas for a long time.  I wouldn't know the difference.  I just know it's hot. really really hot.  But this past week we had rain.  Praise the Lord for rain... two days of it.  A lot of it... so much that it was actually 87 degrees in the late afternoon.  The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing.  It was a beautiful day, the kind that tells you school is back in session, friends are returning, everyone is out on the front lawn playing ultimate frisbee and laying on blankets and playing the guitar.  Although i dont really miss school, it was weird not being there when everyone went back. 

Ive been trying to motivate myself for quite a while to start really exercising.  I know that it would really help with certain struggles, but its been SO HOT... but I realized that now is the time.  Its the time to get rid of some struggles and I have to do whatever I can to do so.  If exercise is one of those, then exercise Imust.  So yesterday was the beginning. it was such an incredibly beautiful day, so my roomie and I went to white rock lake to run.  Well, she ran, I walked.  Everyone was out. Runners, walkers, bikers, old people, young people... people with dogs, people with babies, lots and lots of people. we went close to sunset, so it was the perfect time of day. My mind began to clear and life became simple. To walk in the sun, feel the breeze, just be.

The great thing about that time of day is the contrast of shadow and light.  Sunshine filtering through the leaves on the trees. the way the shadow and light highlights the bark on the trees, the rocks on the ground, the cracks in the road, the ditches in the ground.  Lovely.  The contrast fascinates me and I found myself wishing I were a professional photographer so i could capture each and every moment of that afternoon.  When life takes a deep breath, lets it go, and drinks in the moment.

As I walked, I started thinking about shadows and light.  Its funny to me how I'm so drawn to it all.  Yet I can't resist.  I love the way light illuminates shadows, creeps in through the back door and makes things bright again.  Light speaks to me. It makes me feel a live.  It makes me feel new.

And then, I will dance

I have had so many thoughts just running constantly through my mind, and I can't seem to quiet them. A good friend came to see me this past weekend. Her mother and my dad went to camp together way back when, and then our parents all knew eachother in the college days. Our parents have been friends since, and we were thrown together in the process.

Somehow being around old friends allows us to catch a glimpse of how we have changed. I didn't realize how much I have changed over the past 7 months until she came. God has a funny way of making changes in our lives, and how incredibly true is it that the change we remember the most are the hard changes.

God has continued to strip away all the things in my life that are unnecessary and unhealthy, and it's been so difficult. If you have gone through this, you understand me. A story that the minister at church told on Sunday put all of this in a new perspective for me.

He told of a young girl, still being potty trained, that didn't quite make it to the bathroom. Her father took her to her room and lay her on the bed to change her clothes. She kept wiggling and moving around so much that he couldn't change her clothes. Finally he told her that if she didn't stop moving around that she would fall into the trashcan beside the bed. This quieted her down for a minute, but she soon started to wiggle again. He reminded her of the trashcan, and when he did, she responded, "Yes, daddy, I will. But you will get me out, and then I will dance."

Everyone laughed at her response, but it struck somewhere inside me. As of late, I have experienced sad days, good days, lots of up and down days, full of trying to understand why God asks certain things of me. And frankly, I felt like I was sitting in a wasteland some of those days... a wasteland of the soul.. the soul that knew no joy and could feel no hope for tomorrow, waiting in the darkness for His mighty hand to reach down and save me. One of those questions that I ask a million times over again is why I have to struggle with depression. Maybe its my thorn in my side, constantly reminding me that his grace is sufficient, reminding me that no matter how hard I try I will never be perfect, reminding me that the longer I fight what God is trying to do in me, the longer I keep myself from getting to where he wants me to be and experiencing his joy.

As I overcome these thoughts and misconceptions/misperceptions about life and spirituality and God and Jesus... and myself in the midst of it all, I start to see things a little more clearly. I find that even though I still dont feel like I have much to offer, I find moments where I want so badly to give something to someone... anyone. No matter whether its a card or helping someone load their groceries into their car... I think God is showing me day by day how to take the passion that I saw in Monterrey and transform it to fit this life here. I did something this weekend that made my friend stop and ask me why... It was one of those things that I did without really stopping to think about. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. And when she asked me why I did it, I realized that my heart had become soft again. I had to explain to her that in all of my brokenness and need, God had taught me how to see the need of others, and who am I to turn my face away from that?

So... To carry on with the story of the little girl... I feel like God has seen me sitting in my wasteland of the soul and has taken my hands to lift me out into the clean, bright freshness of his grace. But.. instead of letting go of my hands to let me dance and twirl on my own, he still holds me there leading me in the steps. Whether it be the two step, the electric slide, salsa or tango... he has not let go of my hand... and we will dance together.

Mi Universo (My Universe)

This song by Jesus Adrian Romero has really convicted me over the past few weeks. I dont think the translation will do it justice, but I want to share it anyway.



que seas mi universo
(Be my universe)
no quiero darte sólo un rato de mi tiempo
(I don't want to give you just a little bit of my time)
no quiero separarte un día solamente
(I don't want to set aside just one day for you)
que seas mi universo
(I want you to be my universe)
no quiero darte mis palabras como gotas
(I don't want to give you my words like drops)
quiero un diluvio de alabanzas en mi boca
(I want a flood of praises in my mouth)

que seas mi universo
(Be my universe)
que seas todo lo que siento y lo que pienso
(be everything I feel and think)
que seas el primer aliento en la mañana, y la luz en mi ventana
(I want you to be the first breath in the morning,
and the light in my window)
que seas mi universo
(I want you to be my universe)
que llenes cada uno de mis pensamientos
(I want you to fill every one of my thoughts)
que tu presencia y tu poder sean mi alimento
(that your presence and power be my "nutrients")
oh Jesús es mi deseo
(Jesus is my desire)
que seas mi universo
(Be my universe)

no quiero darte sólo parte de mis años
(I dont want to give you just part of my years)
te quiero dueño de mi tiempo y de mi espacio
(I want you to be owner of my time and space)
que seas mi universo
(Be my universe)
no quiero hacer mi voluntad, quiero agradarte
(I don't want to have my way, I want to please you)
y cada sueño que hay en mi quiero entregarte
(And I want to give you all of my dreams)

que seas mi universo
que seas todo lo que siento y lo que pienso
que seas el primer aliento en la mañana, y la luz en mi ventana
que seas mi universo
que llenes cada uno de mis pensamientos
que tu presencia y tu poder sean mi alimento
oh Jesús es mi deseo
que seas mi universo

Trying to Make Sense of Things

I've been really pensive lately as school has been out for a month. I have had a lot of time to just slow down and relax. It has been a time of reevaluating life and searching.

I hope every young adult goes through times like these. After we graduate college and go off into the real world and get a real job, it is kind of a shock to the system. There are times that I wish I could go back to school and be with my friends for just a little while... Midnight Oil, nertz, ultimate frisbee, Gilmore Girl marathons; you name it, I have missed it.

I look around here and see all these new things that God has brough into my life, and I'm still wondering why. Right now, though, it's not so much the "why?" but the "what am i supposed to do with all of this?" I just want to make sense of it all. It was especially hard to come back after being in Mexico for a week. There's something about going to Monterrey, as I have for the past 3 summers, and being with those people. They really live life. Some of them have next to nothing, but they would still give you the clothes off their back. I think that's why I miss it so much is because to them it's all about relationships and people. I long to have a heart like they do. I long to give like they do and love like they do - purely and unconditionally and expecting nothing in return. Passion. They live with passion. I want that. I want to love with passion, pray with passion, live with passion. Sometimes I look around me and just want to scream at the top of my lungs... Wake up! Just wake up and open your eyes! Live life, appreciate the people around you! Just make an effort to do something that for once has nothing to do with yourself that will bless someone else. This is what I long for... this unbridled, untamed love that Christ loves us with. If I could just learn to love like He does... maybe then life would make more sense. Or maybe it wouldn't matter that it didn't.

I Am

I Am
Nicole Nordeman



Pencil marks on a wall, I wasn’t always this tall
You scattered some monsters from beneath my bed
You watched my team win
You watched my team lose
You watched when my bicycle went down again
And when I was weak, unable to speak
Still I could call You by name
And I said, Elbow Healer, Superhero
Come if you can
You said, I Am

Only sixteen, life is so mean
What kind of curfew is at 10pm?
You saw my mistakes
And watched my heart break
Heard when I swore I’d never love again
And when I was weak, unable to speak
Still I could call You by name
And I said, Heartache Healer, Secret Keeper
Be my best friend
And You said, I Am

You saw me wear white by pale candlelight
I said forever to what lies ahead
Two kids and a dream, with kids that can scream
Too much it might seem when it is 2am
And when I am weak, unable to speak
Still I will call You by name
Shepherd, Savior, Pasture Maker
Hold onto my hand
You say, I Am

The winds of change and circumstance blow in and all around us
So we find a foothold that’s familiar
And bless the moments that we feel You nearer

When life had begun, I was woven and spun
You let the angels dance around the throne
And who can say when, but they’ll dance again
When I am free and finally headed home
I will be weak, unable to speak
Still I will call You by name
Creator, Maker, Life Sustainer
Comforter, Healer, my Redeemer
Lord and King, Beginning and the End

I Am
Yes, I Am

A Good Rule of Thumb

"These mansions are more like monstrosities. Who wants to live in something that resembles a federal building, English boarding school, or mausoleum? The rule of thumb for the perfect house size is that one person screaming for toilet paper can be heard at the other end of the house. If this rule doesn't work, the house is too big."

-Joanne Groshardt

"It is not the critic that counts; not the man who points out how the strong
man stumbled or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who at the worst if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.

Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though
checkered by failure, than to rank with those spirits who neither enjoy nor
suffer much because they live in the grey twilight that knows neither
victory nor defeat."

-Theodore Roosevelt