A Musing Place

To marvel in His goodness, or God is Good, part 4

2012-01-07T22:34:00.004-05:00

All of life should be about marveling in God's goodness, and sometimes it is, but as human beings, we so easily miss God's goodness because we are so blind to it. And yet God is gracious and He gives us times where He is so very good to us that we simply cannot miss it. First to Adam and Eve for not smiting them on the spot when they disobeyed His one command. And then to Noah by saving him AND his family. And then to Abraham by not only giving him a child in his old age (100!) but also through that child and his children growing Abraham into a nation from which the whole world would be blessed through a Savior.

There are so many other stories of God's amazing goodness to humankind through the Bible, and even in today's history, from the Chilean miners, to the gift of life that happens every day a baby is born, to the three weddings I've gone to in the past week, all of them emphasizing that God needs to be the center of the marriage.

God is good, and I know this. He's "not tame, but He's good." And recently my Savior, my God, my Father, has been more than good to me. He has blessed me with family and friends that love me, with a good home and life, food on the table every day, two jobs, both of which I actually enjoy, and so much more. I am a sinner deserving only of death, but I enjoy all of this not only because of God's grace and goodness, but because His Son died for me, making me a child of God. Of this I have to remind myself daily or I will easily fall into making the blessings an idol and not worshiping the God who gave them to me.

As of tonight, one week ago exactly, God saw fit to bless me in the best way possible to date.

On New Years Eve of all days, as we were getting ready to usher the new year in, Michael asked me to marry him, to spend the rest of my life with him, getting to know him, and pursuing God together. I, of course, said yes. Twice. With a squeak in the last one.

Now this amazing man that I am going to marry didn't just do it any old way, he did it in probably the best way possible. New Years Eve my mom had invited not only my Aunt and Uncle over with their three kids, but also three families that I've grown up with, over to our house for a New Years party.

After the end of a group game we'd been playing, Michael disappeared, and when he reappeared, it was to drag everyone in the house who would come into the dining room (where I sat wondering what in the world he was up to) with my guitar in hand. He looked at my 17-year-old brother and his best friend and asked for their help in singing a song. When they learned what song it was, they said yes automatically. So, with my brother and his best friend singing background, Michael looked at me and began to sing the song "You'll always be my best friend" by RelientK. It's short and sweet, and I'll put a link to it at the bottom of this post. At this time, it is my favorite song. After he had finished the song, he thrust the guitar at my Dad, told the gathered crowd, "This song is dedicated to my girlfriend who will always be my best friend," and then came over to where I had gotten up to give him and thank you hug.

He took the hug and then stepped back to look at me and said something along the lines of, "I know we haven't really been able to talk about this openly, and I know this has been hard on you and I hope we can talk openly after this, but I wanted to let you know that I love you, and ask you if you would do me the honor of marrying me." At which point he dropped to one knee and pulled out a box with the prettiest, most sparkly ring I'd ever seen. I squeaked yes twice, once before he got the box out, and once after he got the box out. And then we were hugging (because of course, no kissing until we're married [mutual choice here]) and he was putting the ring on my finger and everyone was surrounding us and congratulating us, and I was desperately trying to figure out where I'd put my phone so I could find it and call my best friends.

It took about 5 minutes to get out of the press of people surrounding us, at some point in which my mom grabbed me and said "Maybe you should go for a walk and cool down, be alone, or something," and I fervently agreed. After I managed to scramble out of all the people in search of my phone, I headed up stairs to look for it, only to realize that I desperately needed to throw up. Never fear, I made it to the toilet, but it was interesting to head back downstairs with my phone and be able to tell Michael after he got off the phone with his parents that sorry my breath smelled funny, but I'd just gone and thrown up.

We left to take a walk, reveling in what had just happened, and calling friends and relatives. My best friends thought it was fantastic news, Michael's sister thought he was pulling her leg and had to be convinced that he was serious.

But here's the most amazing fact: this is just the start. This crazy, amazing story I've just told is just the start. God blessed me amazingly that night, but he continues to bless me in new and different ways every day. It is amazing that he would deign to stoop and bless this sinner with not only a relationship with the most wonderful man I've ever met, but that he would allow the two of us to at some point become a representation to the rest of the world of what Christ and his bride are to look like in the unity of marriage. Wow!

So please pray that because I know God is good, that I would continue to live it. That I would never forget the goodness that God has shown me, through first, sending his son to die for me, and second, for blessing me with the opportunity to marry a man who is completely and amazingly unlike any other man in the world.

God is very, very good. Much more than I deserve. Now to serve him and love him for it.

PS Here is the link to the song.

Bride? Yes please!

2011-09-20T10:59:00.001-04:00

So, you know that saying that roughly goes like this: "A girl's heart should be so wrapped up in God that a guy has to seek God to find her"?

It seems like a great quote. It's nice and fluffy and offers hope to any girl out there who thinks that romance is not going to ever be part of her life. It also seems to encourage the girl to pursue her creator who loves her more than any guy ever would, or could. I thought this for a long time.

Recently while talking with a friend of mine, she mentioned that she had brought up that saying while trying to counsel one of her friends in what her friend thought might be a hopeless romantic endeavor, and little red flags went up in my head. The only reason they did was because I had once had someone tell me the same thing. I'm not saying I had disastrous results with it, but there were some cautions I would give to anyone who tried to follow the sayings advice.

First my own experience with the saying. You might have read previously on this blog how I am a hopeless romantic, and in my freshmen year of college I became aware that the romance in my life was probably not going anywhere any time soon. I became despondent and depressed, worrying more about why guys weren't taking an interest in me that what my Savior thought of my moods.

So, I heard this saying from a couple different places and thought it was really a lovely idea. I swore off of guys and hoped that if I pursued my Savior, he would bring romance into my life. Let me say that again. I hoped that if I pursued my Savior, he would bring romance into my life. If you haven't already caught it, there's a problem with that statement. I was pursuing God to get an end that I wanted and not an end that my Savior wanted for me.

Now the good news is that God honored even that small misguided pursuit of him and drew me towards him, finally showing me that he was all I would ever need, no matter what. What I wish I'd done differently is just pursue God for who he is and not what he could have done for me.

So to those young women out there, I would caution you about that saying. Pursue God, yes. Bury your heart in his, yes. But don't do it with the hopes of an amazing romance on the horizon. What you will find instead is the most amazing romance of your life. The God of the universe, the one who spoke it into being, and yet cares about even the tiniest of life forms, knows you deeper than you even know yourself, your brokenness, your ugliness, your valid reasons for being unlovable, and yet loves you way more than you could ever know. He has died to bring you into a relationship with him. And it's not like we as sinners wanted relationships with him. Imagine the best romance you can and then times it by 1000 at least.

I'm trying to say with words that which is unsayable. Girls, it's okay to struggle with the fact that a God who is infinitely glorious and holy would love you. I struggle with it myself. But never stop preaching the gospel to yourself. In time you'll come to see him better and love him more and believe that he loves you as well. I am praying for each of you as you read this that you might see him who is more beautiful than you can imagine.

To all my girl friends out there who have been struggling with romance, your bridegroom awaits. All you have to do is walk down the isle. :)

God is Good, part 3, or On Peeling a Sunburn

2011-07-21T10:30:00.005-04:00

I went to the beach on Saturday with my sister and a mutual friend of ours. I've been lifeguarding so much this summer that I have a fairly decent tan, though, as I've been telling people it's not my cute suit tan. Well, after this Saturday, I no longer have a guard suit tan. I have a cute suit sunburn that is turning into a tan.

Now why bring up a sunburn? Well, I started peeling yesterday. And because I started peeling, I started thinking about snakes and their shedding their skin. The way my brain works, I automatically started thinking about my favorite part in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the third book in the series, The Chronicles of Narnia, by CS Lewis. Many of you probably have already guessed which part that is. As it is, I'd like to put some of it here.

Eustace has been turned into a dragon, and when he appears at camp a boy again, he tells Edmund what happened. How a lion found him and let him up a mountain to a well where Eustace thought he could bathe and soothe the pain of the golden arm band that was hurting his dragon arm because it was made for a human. Eustace tells Edmund,

"The water [in the well] was as clear as anything and I thought if I could get in there and bathe it would ease the pain in my leg. But the lion told me I must undress first. Mind you, I don't know if he said any words out loud or not.

"I was just going to say that I couldn't undress because I hadn't any clothes on when I suddenly thought that dragons are snaky sort of things and snakes can cast their skins. Oh, of course, thought I, that's what the lion means. So I started scratching myself and my scales began coming off all over the place. And then I scratched a little deeper and, instead of just scales coming off here and there, my whole skin started peeling off beautifully, like it does after an illness, or as if I was a banana. In a minute or two I just stepped out of it. I could see it lying there beside me, looking rather nasty. It was a most lovely feeling. So I started to go down into the well for my bathe.

"But just as I was going to put my foot into the water I looked down and saw that it was all hard and rough and wrinkled and scaly just as it had been before. Oh, that's all right, said I, it only means I had another smaller suit on underneath the first one, and I'll have to get out of it too. So I scratched and tore again and this under skin peeled off beautifully and out I stepped and left it lying beside the other one and went down to the well for my bathe.

"Well, exactly the same thing happened again. And I thought to myself, o dear, how ever many skins have I got to take off? For I was longing to bathe my leg. So I scratched away for the third time and got off a third skin, just like the two others and stepped out of it. But as soon as I looked at myself in the water I knew it had been no good.

"Then the lion said -- but I don't know if it spoke -- You will have to let me undress you. I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.

"The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off. You know -- if you've ever picked the scab of a sore place. It hurts like billy-oh but it is such fun to see it coming away.

"Well, he peeled the beastly stuff right off -- just as I thought I'd done it myself the other three times, only they hadn't hurt -- and there it was lying on the grass: only ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobbly looking than the others had been. And there I was smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been. Then he caught hold of me -- I didn't like that much for I was very tender underneath now that I'd no skin on -- and threw me into the water. It smarted like anything but only for a moment."

The thing I love about this, is that Eustace says that when he was peeling of his skin it didn't hurt him. He only felt proud of himself. But when Aslan (because we all know the lion was Aslan) went and undressed him it hurt like crazy, but Aslan only had to do it once. It probably would have taken Eustace just about forever to get to the point that Aslan did in one go.

The whole moral of all this peeling is that, no matter how much I try to change myself and recognize my sinfulness by myself, I won't be able to change. It takes Aslan sinking his claws into my selfishness and sin to make it go away, and it probably will hurt like the dickens, but it's the only way forward. In the end it's good. Aslan is not a tame lion, but he is Good.

For that, if only for that, I am glad I got burned and started peeling. God is good.

God is Good, part 2

2011-06-28T23:02:00.002-04:00

So, I went to title this blog (sometimes I title it before I write it, and other times I title it after I write it... this time it is before it's completely written) "God is Good" and then realized that the title sounded familiar. Sure enough, I found that I had written a blog that was already entitled that. So I read it.

First, it was written many months ago. It was during a time where Michael and I were hanging out regularly because our relationship had not yet gone "long distance", nothing much was hard in my life, in a sense that I was still in college and all I had to worry about were grades and whether or not my senior recital was going to go well. Since then I have student taught, graduated from college, and my relationship with Michael has "gone long distance." He is currently 5 hours away, and during the school year, he's 3 hours away.

It's funny how several months will change your perspective on things. Now, I'm not about to say that God's not good. That's definitely not true. But I am going to say that it's very easy to say that God is good when everything around you is good too. I'm also not saying that I'm not surrounded by good things. I am. I am surrounded by things that are good. A family that loves me, a job (though sometimes I wish it were more), the prospectiveness of jobs, life, a bed to sleep in, dentist appointments, communication with Michael, etc.

And yet, at the same time I feel like I'm learning more about the difference between saying God is good and knowing God is good. Right now, I'm having a hard time translating "God is good" from my head to my heart. What does living like you know God is good look like? I'm not sure. I think part of it looks like leaving everything to Him. Trusting that He's got a plan for whatever's happening right now. Being content (NOT the same as happy, more along the lines of joyful) with where He's put you, knowing that here and now He's trying to teach you something. It's not easy. I don't think it's supposed to be easy. But it is supposed to bring us closer to Him, and that is something that is easy. Drawing nearer to God should be easy because He is so beautiful.

Why all this wordage? What am I trying to say? Well, here. Help me. Pray that God would give me a spirit of contentment, and ease me through this time in my life where things are hard, but not terrible. Merely uncomfortable. Pray that God would enable me to see and know with my heart that He is indeed good and that He has got some massive awesome plan in mind for this. I'm sure, 100% positive, that in the future I'll look back and know that God had this for a reason, but I want to know that now.

I know. Patience isn't one of my strong suits, but this is something different. I want to know in my heart of hearts that God has something in store for me. It's called walking by faith, and not by sight. Walking through the dark night of the tunnel when you're not sure that there is light at the end, but you're trusting that there is. It's a fool's hope. A fool's trust. But then I'm trusting in the God who used the foolish things to shame the strong. Maybe there's some hope there after all.

This is me publicly declaring in the midst of stuff that God is GOOD.

Happily Ever After

2011-06-06T21:31:00.004-04:00

So, on a trip down memory lane, Grace and I watched Ever After last night. We stayed up until about 1am to finish it after a long exhausting day, but finish it we did, with happy smiles on our faces and satisfied thoughts. Ever After is probably one of the first (if not the first) chick flicks that I learned to love. It's right up there with the boy bands that populated my early teenage years (Plus One anyone?). I loved the wit, the courage, the stupidity, the humor of it all. I still do. Grace and I were giggling in certain parts, parts that I had either forgotten, or not realized through all my previous watchings.

As it is, it got me to thinking as I attempted to go to sleep at 1 this morning. I always have trouble going directly to sleep after a movie because my brain is still processing. As my writer's brain processed, I had to smile over the fact that true to a chick flick, there had been three or four parts. The introduction of the characters to the viewer/reader/audience and to each other and the build up of story-line. Then as the story seems to be floating along on wings of awesomeness, something happens. Something dreadful happens. It doesn't come out of nowhere though. It's something that one of the characters has hidden from the other character/s. It's been building, so you know it's going to come to light and ruin everything. Sure enough, in the middle, something awful happens because the secret, or whatever it was, comes to light. Trust is betrayed, hearts are broken, and those who thought they were on top of the world suddenly find themselves at the bottom of the well. In the last part, one of the characters, preferably the one who was betrayed, steps back into the life of the betrayer and shows them that they are still loved. There is massive reconciliation and a drinks all 'round! I mean... a happy ending. I love happy endings!

Which also got my thinking, why do I love happy endings so much? Why does anyone?

Which led me to the conclusion:

It's because we all want our own happy ending.

Shocker, I know.

I guess what made me smile early this morning as I realized this was the fact that if you are a Christian, you do get a happy ending! And what's amazing is that our life resembles a chick flick... or maybe it's the chick flick that resembles our life.

In the beginning, when God first created man and woman, they were perfect. They were introduced to each other, to God, given a set of rules to live by, and very quickly they broke one (all) of the rules and tried to hide it from God. It's kinda funny because hiding things from God doesn't work very well. Because of this lie, because they broke the rules, things suddenly started looking extremely dark. Mankind hid from God because they figured that He could never love them again. After all, if they were unlovable to themselves, they should be unlovable to God. Therefore they ignored God and attempted to live on their own. They weren't only afraid of God, they were being rebellious. Something had snapped inside mankind when they sinned. They didn't want God. And yet something amazing happened.

God, the creator of the universe which is billions of light years across (and then some), stepped into our nasty and showing that He still loves us, He died for us, paying the penalty for our sins against God. It was this penalty and the sin that was separating us from God in the first place. He payed for it all, rescuing us from the death penalty that we had placed on ourselves, the shackles that we had crawled into because we were unlovable. Instead, He took the death penalty, He placed the shackles on Himself, so there would be no room for us, as long as we accepted Him and believed that He really had done this for us.

He has brought us not only back to Himself, but also back to life. He has become our life. The ultimate reconciliation has been made. This is a love story that all other love stories long to copy because it is so amazing. We, of all people, are to be most envied, and yet sometimes we can't even believe it ourselves.

As it is, it was nice, wonderful, to be reminded that my Savior is my knight in shining armor again. I hope I have been able to remind you of the same thing as you read this.

Uncomfortable much?

2011-04-23T08:27:00.003-04:00

I've never been good at keeping a happy ending to myself. That's partially why I never ever read the ending to a book, even if the middle seems depressingly hopeless. If I know how it ends, sometimes the middle doesn't appeal to me as much. If it's a happy ending, I keep that tucked away in my brain like a little ball of hope, and it ruins any emotions the author might have wanted me to feel while reading about the trials of the hero and heroine.

That's why I feel slightly awkward on this day of all days. I always feel weird about the saturday between Good Friday and Easter. Why? Oh, because Good Friday is so sad, and mournful. We went to a service yesterday that seemed to color the rest of the day. It was solemn and beautiful. And we left the service with Jesus in the grave. I feel like I should be sad today too, because technically "Jesus is in the grave until Easter." The only problem is, I CAN'T. There's an ending to the story that I already know, dadgumit, and it's an ending of the most joy possible, I wanted to stand up and shout in the middle of my Good Friday service yesterday, "But He's not dead! Why are we mourning? He's quite alive!"

Granted, I know why we celebrate Good Friday. We're commemorating Jesus' deathday, just like we commemorate His birthday every Christmas. We're praising God solely for the torture and the pain that Christ went through to give up everything, sacrificing it all so we could be brought near.

Still, I know all this, but I feel awkward today. Am I supposed to feel mournful today? All I really want to do is wriggle with anticipation like a 4-year-old, and shout, "Just wait for tomorrow! He's not dead! I mean, yes, He died, but He's not dead!" So the confliction in me comes from the feeling that I need to be in mourning today because of yesterday, but I am also pulled towards excitement and rejoicing because of what comes tomorrow.

Altogether, I'm probably going to be very uncomfortable today.

Music is...

2011-04-14T16:34:00.004-04:00

What is music, and who is it for? Is it for the high and mighty? is it for the layman? Is it for the audience? Is it for the composer? What purpose is it supposed to serve? Does it bring glory to the composer? Or the performer/s? Who is it for?

These are questions I've been wrestling with in my head for a while, seeing some of the responses around me to music. This is probably appropriate as well, seeing as I have been student teaching (and having a wonderful time of it) in the music area of education this entire semester. I believe, now, that I have some, and at least partial, answers to my questions stated above. To answer the later questions, however, I must first define the first question.

What is music? My awesome cooperating teacher has a definition that I completely agree with, that she thinks she got from her cooperating teacher. Her definition is this:

Music is sounds and silences organized for meaningful expression.

Sounds and silences. So, rests and any type of sounds are music? Does this mean that the clap of a hand, or the shout of a voice, or the percussive ring of wood on metal have as much musical claim as the song of a violin, or the wail or an oboe, or the lumbering of a tuba? I would argue that yes, they do, as long as they are organized for meaningful expression. If the clap of a hand or the shout of a voice express something the way the composer wishes, then we can call it music.

Now that we've defined music, now we can answer the next question.

Who is music for?

Now, for as long as humans have been able to make noise, they have been making music. The first stringed instrument wasn't much different than one small hunting bow brushing the string of a larger hunting bow. The first wind instrument was probably very similar to a panpipe or conch shell. The first real instrument was the human voice.

In the early ages of the Christian church, music was only for church. The making of music outside the church was strictly frowned upon, because they believed that any music that wasn't created to glorify and worship God was not right. As the years past, and Henry the VIII broke from the tradition of the Catholic church (and even before this time), thoughts changed. Music was still for church, certainly, but now you could have "church music" and you could have "secular music," music that didn't have to have more of a purpose than bringing enjoyment to the listener.

But then the music was for the high and mighty. The laymen, the workers in the fields, could only get music in church on Sunday, if they went. The rich, the nobles and the lords of the land would higher traveling musicians for their courts so they were never without song, but rarely was song heard elsewhere.

Ever so slowly music started to move towards pleasure for the common man. It was in this era that composers such as Johann Sebastian Bach, Antonio Vivaldi, George Fredrick Handel, and Dieterich Buxtehude (Bach's personal idol) composed and performed. Only, they did not perform for themselves. They composed music and then performed for the enjoyment of their employers, or for the church. Sure, they enjoyed music, but it wasn't for them in the long run.

And then wild, crazy Mozart came along. He who would not be beholden to tradition decided that he was going to try and make it on his own, without living with people and playing music for them for room and board. He broke the mold that other composers had lived by, or at least he tried. The mold never really broke until Beethoven came along.

Beethoven was a firey man who had a massive temper, generally because he couldn't hear. He was known to shout at performers when they couldn't get his music right, but even through this firey personality, his music, the emotions in his music still managed to make people cry. Listening to his 9th symphony with the chorus gives me goosebumps every time. With Beethoven suddenly music became for the masses.

As music became more relatable, composers would compose pieces that were meant to be played only in the privacy of the house. Many of the world premiers of some of the really famous pieces were for a small number of people. Music was never invented for the performer. Yes, it could be enjoyed by the person who performed it, but it was created so that in the quiet of the house a mother could rock her child to sleep, a man could storm in anger, a young girl could express her love-sick anguish. Music in any shape or form, in any tribe or language around the world, has always been for the people, for the audience. It is the call to a wedding, a funeral, a calming time, a time for war, and a time to just sit and listen.

So, my final conclusion to this super long post is that music is for anyone who has ears to hear it and a brain to enjoy it. It is not about the performer, though the performer can certainly listen and enjoy the music they are producing, but it is about the audience. That is why, with everything, both the composer and the performer have to consider their audience. Who are they playing for? Who will they influence? In what way do they wish to influence their listeners? In essence, music is not about us, the musicians, but it is about the people around us. Every time we perform, we are serving the people listening to us, and as either professional musicians, or strong amateur musicians, our job is to get out of ourselves and what people think of us and to perform an act of service for them.

So my challenge to all musicians out there is this: go out and influence the people around you for good through the music you make, whether it is a foot stomp, or a cello string, a train whistle, or a clarinet's soulful sigh. It's in your hands now. Do with it what you will.

Trustworthy

2011-02-01T19:46:00.004-05:00

God is beautiful because He is trustworthy.

I know I haven't posted in, well, a month, but this is because I have been learning about the trustworthiness of God firsthand. Let me esplain. No. Ees too much. Let me sum up. (;-D)

Several posts back I shared how absolutely terrified of student teaching I was, simply because I didn't know what was coming next. I'd never before found myself in a situation like this. There were a lot of tears and anxious conversations with close friends and family. I felt incredibly lonely as my friends started to trickle back to Boone and I did not. I understood with my head that God would take care of me, the same way He's taken care of me for the past 22 years, but I did not quite translate that to my heart.

My first day of teaching was strange and not quite a full day because of weather. We let out 2.5 hours early, and I came home tired and in desperate need of some support. What I met with was my family. I was instantly bombarded with questions about my day. This is support, but at the time, it wasn't the type of support I was used to, so I did not recognize it as support, and, well, my parents weren't used to me either.

So, I snapped at my dad as he over-cheerfully asked questions, and roughly put my stuff away and then crawled into pjs and my bed and took a 30 minute nap. When I had taken my nap, I was even more groggy and tired then I had been, so I moped into the kitchen where I had been working on a 1000 piece puzzle before school started, and sat dejectedly at the kitchen table with the puzzle while mom busied herself making dinner. For the next hour at least, I sat and cried while piecing the puzzle together. It was off and on, but I had a nice little pity party. As I sat there, at one point I had been sniffling so much that mom quietly left the kitchen and came back with a tissue box, set it down beside me, patted me on the head, and went back to making dinner.

Over the next several days, in fact the first week, every time Michael called, there was a 73% chance that I was going to cry at least a little while talking to him. He handled it well. Better, in fact, than I deserved. Also, I was consistently tired (still am, thought I've adjusted) and the tiredness didn't help my functioning capabilities and often I felt like I was dragging through life.

This is the beginning of my fourth week and things have changed. They changed long ago, but I wasn't aware of it at all. More important, God has been trustworthy through all of this.

Going into this whole deal, God has provided for me. He provided a cooperating teacher who works in two schools, both under ten minutes from my house so I can live at home and save money instead of having to pay for on campus housing and food and stuff. He has provided a family, my family, as support for when I'm tired and dejected: a mother to silently but caringly issue tissues when I need it, two little sisters who are more than willing to ask me to read books to them, a father who willingly doles out hugs, a brother who is crazy and grown up to the point where I can have intelligent conversations with him.

They don't replace my family at App, but they are the support I need here. Support here includes my church family and KB, my incorrigible best friend who makes bacon creations with me and has Christmas more than a month late with me.

God has also provided for me by giving me rest and sleep when I need it most. He has consistently led me through days that look terrifying, such as conducting the high school for the first time last week, or actually starting to work with a class for the first time, or braving the teacher's lounge for lunch for the first time, or... and I could go on. There have been times in each day where I can blatantly say "Thank you God for answering this prayer, or getting me through this situation."

While God has not always given me what I want, He has consistently given me what I need and what will grow me in my faith and love for Him. I know I've talked a lot about what God has provided for me, so I can definitely say that He is beautiful because I can trust Him to provide for me, but this also points me to something else. If I can trust Him to provide for me, I can also trust Him in everything else. He will continue to do everything that He has promised for me, which is pushing me to love Him every day and every day showing me just a little more of His glory. He has promised many things and has already fulfilled the biggest one. He brought salvation to this earth through His Son's death and resurrection for our sins, in order to bring us to Him.

"He who did not spare His own Son, but willingly gave Him up, how will He not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things."

Coming soon?

2011-01-02T16:44:00.003-05:00

For Christmas I gave Michael a book by John Piper called God is the Gospel, talking about how God is the greatest gift of the gospel and how all the gifts God gives us through the gospel and salvation are only supposed to point to him. This got me thinking. If God is the ultimate beauty, how is He the ultimate beauty? We as humans are so visually based. When we pick friends, it's with people that we like the look of. Very rarely do we go out of the way to befriend people who look strange or different than we do.

However, God is invisible. If He is the ultimate beauty, we need to learn how to see the invisible traits of beauty in order to fully appreciate how beautiful He is. Sometimes the only way we, as visible-based creatures, can see God's invisible beauty is the same way we see the wind: the evidence of moving and changing things around us.

Why am I saying all this?

Because I think in the next several blogs, I'm going to focus on God's beauty. I'll pick a couple topics, such as His grace, mercy, salvation, creation, etc. and write about each one in a different post, because if I tried to write about all of them at once, the post would be longer than the recent post about Christmas. So, stay tuned for something having to do with God's beauty as I struggle through these thoughts of mine.

See you soon-ish!

Merciful gentleness

2010-12-22T21:29:00.003-05:00

If you could describe this world in one word, what would it be?

For me, it would be "broken."

This world is broken and in much need of repair. It struck me today as I was driving, through the dark, that we aren't nearly as all that as we think we are. For some reason we are quite content to scurry around in our messed up world, thinking that we're fine and living a fantastic life. I think though, that one of my favorite singers says it best: "If a life is a comedy, then why all the tragedy?" This is a sad world, people dying all around us, war tearing up places we've never really heard about, families being torn apart by divorce, friends backstabbing each other, people being lonely and taking their lives because of it during the holidays, and I could go on and on. I'm pretty certain that each one of us can say that we've been touched to some extent by this miserable place.

Now, why have I gone on this sad and depressing tangent? (and why am I asking so many questions?)

This is because of something amazing that has happened. Into this sad and dark world, with all its miserableness, something changed. There were angels broadcasting this news to a scared group of shepherds some 2000+ years ago. Very slowly it, not the idea of it, but it, itself, began to take over people, the way they lived, the way they breathed, the way they moved, talked, interacted with other people. This change was life. Not life as we know it, which is merely surviving, but life, life worth living. To many it's a breath of fresh air, to others, a sad number who feel they are comfortable in their own little holes of despair, it's a threat. The reason it's a threat is because part of this new inexhaustible life is living differently than you did when you were in misery and despair. To those who are habit oriented, or convinced they are right, this can be a threat, but to those who truly know that they are in desperate need of life, an amazing intoxicating life, changing how you live is a small price to pay.

2000+ years ago, God, the creator of the universe, the one who spoke and created everything from the tiniest organism and molecule that we have yet to find, to the largest galaxy that is the furthest thing away that we can find in our most powerful telescopes, the one who set time in motion, the one who lives outside time, the one who is, and has been, and has yet to come, and yet is unchanging; God broke into our miserable time and space, the time and space He had once created good, and stepped into our world.

If He had created our world good to begin with, and we had messed it up, how do you think God should have stepped into our world? If it had been me, or any of the human-created gods, such as Zeus and Buddha, I would have blasted the awful humans off the face of the earth the minute they messed up my plan. I wouldn't have waited for several thousand years to watch them mess things up. I wouldn't have bided my time, another plan up my sleeve. Instead of allowing humans and their free will to destroy His will and His plan, He wove our mess-up into His plan, creating a plan that would bring Him more glory than His original plan.

(I'm speaking as if we changed the course of God's glory, though this is not true in the least. For some reason He already had this plan in place, and He was not surprised by our mess-up, even though He created us good to begin with. This is a mystery that the most brilliant minds haven't been able to crack, the mystery of human free-will and God's sovereignty, but I don't have time or knowledge to go into it.)

Instead of stepping into our time and space as a vengeful, wrathful God, wreaking havoc on the subjects who disobeyed him and created a prison of misery for themselves, God quietly broke into our disorder, and came as a baby. A baby. A squalling, messy, time-consuming, needy baby. God in flesh did not come as a conquerer, but instead in the most helpless form a human can assume: a baby.

Why? Why? Why would God chose to interact with us on this level? Why a baby?

Maybe it's because we wouldn't listen as well if it were a conquerer speaking to us His subjects, maybe it's because it would be taking our free-will away and He would rather have us love Him on our own than Him forcing us to. CS Lewis says in his Screwtape letters, the eighth letter, "But the obedience which the Enemy [God] demands of men is quite a different thing. One must face the fact that all the talk about His love for men, and His service being perfect freedom, is not (as one would gladly believe) mere propaganda, but an appalling truth. He really does want to fill the universe with a lot of loathsome little replicas of Himself--creatures, whose life, on its miniature scale, will be qualitatively like His own, not because He has absorbed them but because their wills freely conform to His. We [the devils] want cattle who can finally become food; He wants servants who can finally become sons."

Whatever the reason, because God stepped gently into our world, because He stepped in at all, we now have hope. Anything we see that is in despair, we have hope that that will be touched with the life that comes from knowing Christ. It took more than just a birth as a baby, it took Christ living as a human, in a rugged class of people, a people under the thumb of Rome, teaching and pouring Himself out to the people around Him for three years, and then at the end being unjustly accused by the people He loved of being a criminal and rabble-rouser and then being crucified by them, which is a horrific way to die. It took Christ not only dying for the sake of (and by) the people he loved, but also dying in their place because of the mess they had made (because messing up God's plan and turning your back on Him is actually punishable by death).

If the story ended there, at the Light of the world, the only chance of Life being snuffed out because of us, I would have every right to the miserable things I wrote about at the beginning of this post, but it doesn't end there. God, in His matchless sovereignty saw fit to bring Christ back. He wasn't dead for good. Misery couldn't hold Him in the grave. The darkness that chains the world down couldn't hold the Light back. Just the same as turning on a light in a darkened room banishes the dark, Jesus the Light of the world began the start of banishing dark from every corner of the world by coming back from the dead.

This why the despair we see in the world around us is only temporary. The God-man has broken death's hold. This is why we can say with certainty, "O grave, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" The death that encompasses most of this world has no hold on it any longer. The fingers of death have been shattered. What is left are the cobwebs that need clearing away, so to speak.

To think that life wouldn't be the same if this hadn't happened so long ago. To think: this is why we celebrate Christmas. Praise God for His matchless and infinite, intoxicating, inescapable wisdom, mercy, grace and love. I don't deserve any of it, and yet He has chose to bless me with life. Let me know if I can show you were to find some for yourself.

Tears are falling, hearts are breaking,

How we need to hear from God,

You've been promised, we've been waiting,

Welcome Holy Child, welcome Holy Child.

Hope that you don't mind our manger,

How I wish we would have known,

But long-awaited, Holy stranger,

Make yourself at home,

Please make yourself at home.

Bring your peace into our violence,

Bid our hungry souls be filled,

Word now breaking Heaven's silence,

Welcome to our world, welcome to our world.

Fragile finger sent to heal us,

Tender brow prepared for thorn,

Tiny heart whose blood will save us,

Unto us is born, unto us is born.

So wrap our injured flesh around you,

Breathe our air and walk our sod,

Rob our sin and make us holy,

Perfect son of God, perfect son of God.

Welcome to our world.

Welcome to Our World, by Chris Rice

Eyelashes

2010-12-18T14:41:00.005-05:00

I have a habit that I've had since I was a baby, and my mom says I'm going to lose all my eyelashes to it. For some reason, when I'm stressed, emotionally crazed, tired, reading something (mainly a book), uncertain about something, or at an extreme almost negative emotion that doesn't involve doing much (like crying or screaming) but involves sitting and staring somewhere, I play with my eyelashes. It used to be that I'd play with one eye normally. We have pictures of me as a three year old, sucking my thumb and playing with the eyelashes on my right eye (the top row of lashes) with my pinky, hands stretched across the right side of my face. It's basically a comfort blanket (seeing as the "blankie" was retired when I was 5ish) and you can tell I've got nothing to do, or am feeling emotionally bad when I start playing with my eyelashes.

Since I was three, my range of eyelash playing has moved from just the right eye to both the right and the left eye. Sometimes I use my pinky, other times I use other parts of my fingers (back of a knuckle, first finger, back of hand), other times I throw my arm across my face (right before I go to sleep) and I'll flutter my eyelashes across the sensitive skin of my upper arm. It's all a comfort thing. I don't understand it, but I do it. Mom says I'll end up with no eyelashes some day because I do this, or I'll end up with lashes that have been broken in half, but I keep doing it. Normally I can tell how engaging a book is by looking in the mirror after reading it and checking my eyelashes. If I haven't worn mascara for a while, it's hard to put mascara on and keep my eyelashes straight if I've been playing with them heavily because they're mutilated and twisted around each other. I probably also lose WAY more eyelashes than anyone else I know because of this habit. If you were ever to run into me on a day I was wearing mascara and look closely at my lashes, you'd be able to tell which ones were broken and where I've destroyed others. My lashes are also not nearly as thick as they could be if I didn't do this.

Why am I telling you all this?

Because I'm home from college, getting ready to face student teaching starting in January. I'm looking at a semester with none of my college friends, my close friends, nearby. Both my sister and Michael will be at least three hours away with these friends (as they make up part of the group of friends). My campus ministry will also be three hours away. The family I've created for myself (that God has created for me as a support system at college) will be three hours away. And I'm on an emotional roller-coaster.

I cried at least once for the first five days of being home (and I've only been home 6 days), sometimes it wasn't much, sometimes it was a lot, but part of me doesn't even want to be home. I don't want to lose sight of God's goodness, but sometimes everything overwhelms me. I know in my head that God has planned everything down to when a hair on my head falls off, but at the same time, not knowing what's ahead doesn't help my nerves, or the fact that I'm lonely.

So why did I start this post of with a confession about my silly, slightly stupid, all-telling habit of playing with my eyelashes?

Because my eyelashes are more mutilated right now than they have been in a while. What does that tell you?

If you could pray for me that God would be my strength and that I would seek God's glory in all of this, I would appreciate it. Also, if you could pray that my eyelashes don't die before this is all done. Going into student teaching with no eyelashes would be very ... interesting.

Freak out

2010-12-02T14:09:00.004-05:00

So, I just realized that I'm freaking out. Maybe not on the outside, but definitely on the inside. (In the last two sentences, I had to back space multiple times because I couldn't spell correctly, which is how big this revelation is.)

Why am I freaking out, you ask? I'm closing in on my last set of exams for my last semester on campus, before moving home to student teach at a public high school. After I make it through student teaching (because I haven't even let myself dwell on the fact that I might be a total failure with it), I will graduate and move out into the real world. Yay real world.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm excited about graduation and attempting to start my own violin/viola studio, but I'm terrified about getting there. I'm freaking out inside because I absolutely don't know what's going to happen. I hate not knowing what's going to happen. It's a trust thing because I don't have any control over anything at all.

It's not something I can do by myself. I know that. But it hurts to acknowledge that. Right now, prayers would be appreciated as I move through this transition phase of my life. Transitions are always a little bit scary, even if they are longed for and hoped for. God is my Rock and my Refuge. Pray that I run to Him, every time I desire to freak out for the next two months.

Thanksgiving

2010-11-25T19:43:00.005-05:00

Thankful is a big deal, especially on a day like today. A day reserved especially for giving thanks. Who to give thanks to, well, I guess that's up to you, but for me, I have a lot to give thanks for, and it all goes primarily to my God and Father.

In no particular order, here's a list of what I'm thankful for:

BLT sandwiches, and dads who make them for you when he was only planning on making one for himself.

Friends who are awesome.

Breathing. This is good for living.

Family, that while they are crazy, make things interesting.

College, that has taught me a ton.

Good music that inspires me and makes me feel like laughing, crying, dancing, and sitting still all at the same time.

Food. The end.

Grace. In the form of a sister. Especially when I need it.

Michael.

And definitely for my Savior. Because He died for me. Because everything I have comes from Him.

I'm thankful, basically, for the life that I have. It's strange to think of a different life. It's easy and probably very true to say that if God had put me in a different life with different parents, I wouldn't be what I am today. I've told people that if my parents had been any less caring and nosy about my life, I probably would have gotten seriously messed up with my relationships and possibly ruined myself first year of college. Because of God's care for me, every single thing that has happened in my life has been for my good, even though some of them have not seemed good in the end. Today it is easy to say "God is good." Tomorrow it might not be as easy, but it definitely still applies. God is good.

My challenge to you is this: How is God good in your life?

[edit] I'm also thankful for KB and spleens. [/edit]

Do-it-not-by-myself

2010-11-15T22:53:00.003-05:00

I've been learning lately, in a very steady fashion that I can't do it by myself. I'm pretty certain that this lesson is going to be a never ending one, seeing as I'm a stubborn do-it-myself person. As it is, this lesson hurts sometimes.

The biggest thing about this semester, the thing that I think I'll look back at this semester and remember, is the pain that I've been in. Mid-september I played in a concert that was fantastic, but managed to stress my shoulder out to the point where I injured it. I left several of the practices for the concerts feeling as if left collarbone was broken. Because I also had a recital to give this semester, I wasn't about to put the violin down just because I was experiencing some pain that would go away most of the time. I had to practice and that was final. If I didn't practice I would fall behind on the excellence that could be my music.

I took to Ibuprofen, and tried to lay of practicing viola, because I was/am also playing that this semester in a string ensemble. I quickly learned that being in pain meant that I was surly towards people, moody, and more quickly emotionally drained. I'm afraid that there were several times where I shoved my attitude at other people, Michael and my sister being the two closest people most of the time.

God was also gracious to present me with time to be alone and on my own. I didn't, and normally don't, think of this time as a gift, because each time I was alone I would come dangerously close to breaking down. Each time at some point I would have to cry out to God, normally with tears in my eyes, and tell Him, broken, that I couldn't do it on my own. That I couldn't cope with the miniscule pain of my shoulder, or that I couldn't cope with being lonely, or that I couldn't cope with whatever was bothering me at the time of my breakdowns.

Each time I come out of these spots, I come away with a fresh realization of how blessed I am to have friends, family and someone standing by my side, even if it's only for now.

I might not be the strongest person, and I know that I can't do it by myself, but even when I'm at my lowest, and still trying to plod along in my do-it-myself attitude, God has blessed me with family and friends that hold me up and keep me pointed at God and His greatness, and sometimes when I turn too much to those people closest in my life, God takes those away too and gently but torturously turns me towards Him all by Himself.

I know this lesson is long from being over, but I just thought I'd share where I am now. God is good in all circumstances, even if I don't necessarily like them.

Helpless...

2010-10-24T22:29:00.003-04:00

Feeling helpless is not something that I like.

I'm the oldest child in my family. And as the oldest child, I'm the one who is supposed to have it all under control. Normally I do fantastically well at having most of it under control, and the stuff that isn't under control doesn't really need to be, or I don't care enough about it or what other people think to keep it under my control umbrella. It's really funny this illusion of control that I have though.

It's just that, an illusion.

I've been learning very recently that the control I have on life is an illusion. And that hurts. I want to fall back into the silly idea that life is under my control; that the classes I'm taking are the ones I chose, and therefore all the homework piling on was my fault; that the church I go to was my choice, so the teaching I'm getting there is because of my choice or not; that the friends I make are my choice so if something goes wrong with my friends, I'm responsible or I can run away.

God seems to have whipped that carpet out from under my feet very quickly in the friends area of life, because very recently (within the last week) at least three of my friends have undergone some type of physical or emotional stress. One was in a car accident, and two dealt with rejections of different kinds which caused massive emotional stress. I felt like I had to deal with this suddenly all in one day. It was something I hadn't quite felt before, and felt a little overwhelmed with the massive amounts of prayers I felt like I was shooting to God. "God be with ____, they're hurting. Comfort them." "God show mercy to ____, give them peace." "God, I don't know what to do!" There were so many times where I wanted to do something physically, like bestow a hug, or give a back rub, but in the end, I had to end up saying, "I'll pray for you." Which seems like a lame-lame excuse sometimes.

Every time I said "I'll be praying for you," and then mentioned that I wished I could do more the recipient would say, "You're doing a lot already by simply praying for the situation."

Why do we think that conversing with the King of the universe about someone else's problem is a lame substitute for actually doing something?! Maybe because for me the results aren't as obvious. When I can see results right away it doesn't try my faith. Sitting and waiting and praying does try my faith, and it bugs the crap out of me. There you have it. I'm human! Welcome to the club. Or maybe I should ask to join, because I certainly don't realize sometimes until I hit a limit that I'm human.

In CS Lewis' "The Magician's Nephew" at one point when Diggory and Polly are going with Fledge, the winged horse, to the garden in the middle of the new world to pick a fruit from the middle of the garden and bring it back to protect Narnia from the White Witch, because it's a two day journey, they stop for the night about half way there. When they set about finding supper, they realize there's nothing packed. Diggory says something along the lines of, "Well, you'd think he'd [Aslan] would send dinner along," and Fledge in all his horsey wisdom, and through a mouthful of grass says, "I think He [Aslan] knew alright, but I kinda think He likes to be asked."

Maybe God, for the same reasons, and because it makes us rely on him more, has created prayer as the way to get things done. Because I can't heal hurting hearts, and the creator can, I am to help with that process simply by asking him to heal the hurt. It's frustrating, and yet, at the same time, I'm so glad I'm not in charge of fixing the world (even though I want to try). If I had to fix the world, I'd make such a mess of it, things would get worse, not better. So even when presented with something that I can definitely do, I will turn to prayer. After all, if I'm a child of the King, my Father's going to want to answer my prayers positively if it's good (in the long run) for all involved.

And now I'm going to stop rambling, because, well, I'm exhausted.

God is Good

2010-10-18T21:01:00.003-04:00

Last night while walking home with Michael, while we were talking about various and sundry things, he murmured, "God is good." As per my habit, I asked him, "How?" (or sometimes it's why?) because I want to know not only that God is good, but why people are saying that about him. It's so easy to simply sit there and say, "God is good," and not follow it up with anything. Michael, after good-naturedly groaning a little, proceeded to tell me how God was good.

It got me thinking though.

God is good. There's no doubt about that. Even the most hardened heart, when faced full on with God's grace and goodness will have to admit that God is good. But sometimes, like Monday mornings, it's hard to realize that God is good through the sleep-induced fog. Which is why I'm about to ask myself the question. How is God good in my life, right now?

God is good because I am breathing. God is good because I am currently aware of all my faculties and they work. God is good because He created the sunshine that is pale-y washing the outdoors. God is good because of the wind that tangles my hair whenever I try to walk somewhere. God is good because He is love, and justice, and mercy, and patience, and jealous wrath, and righteousness, and salvation. This I can say with ease.

All these things are good though. They're good for me. They don't really hurt me. But God is still good when he takes everything away.

God is good when I'm not breathing. God is good when I am incapacitated by pain. God is good when it's raining and miserable outside. God is good when classes are hard, and I'm failing miserable at a subject. God is good when people shun me. God is good when I am tired and falling apart. God is good when I can't find any good in the world around me. God is good because He is love, and justice, and mercy, and patience, and jealous wrath, and righteousness, and salvation. God is good through the bad times too because all of it is used to drive me closer to Him.

I have such a limited view of my world. All I can see is the happenings around me. I'm a big picture person and love to know what's going on in the grand scheme of things, but thank goodness I don't. God is God. I, thankfully, am not. If I were, I would try to control things, and God would cease to be good.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that God is good no matter what, but I often have to be reminded and remind myself of that fact. And because God is good, we are called to praise Him. Thank goodness we always have reason to praise Him, because we were created to praise Him. Yet another amazing thing about God.

Praise God for His infinite grace and mercy and wisdom. At least He knows what He's doing.

Firsts, lasts, and things I wish I knew

2010-08-24T14:14:00.004-04:00

Today is the first day of many last days.

Now before you start freaking out and think I'm going all suicidal, let me explain. I'm not suicidal. I promise. Today is just my last first day of college classes. Unless something unexpected happens.

Today is the first day of classes of my senior year! Last night my dorm hall had a meeting, and as a question, the RA (or Resident Assistant) asked us to tell what year we were in college. Oddly enough, the whole hall is Sophomores and Seniors. I was one of the seniors, and it was very hard to say "Senior" as my year, because I feel like, not only have I been here for forever, but I also just started. When I started college I felt as if I had forever in front of me. Now I feel like 4 years was almost too short. So I thought (just now) that I would tell anyone five things that I wish I knew as a freshman, or listened to as a freshman, even if I knew them. And these are not in any order, really.

One, always communicate with your roommate. Don't just say "hi" or "bye" or "can I get to my bed, please?" but actually communicate with your roommate. If he or she is doing something you really really don't like, tell them because other than that, how are they supposed to know how to fix it? They can't read your mind!

Two, family is important. Even if your mom or dad is calling you constantly, take the time to talk to them. They're your biggest support line when you don't have friends, and are making them. Plus, they might be helping pay for your bill. It never hurts.

Three, coffee is good in moderation. I don't drink it, but I've seen friends who drink it all the time and it wipes out their meal plans. Also, on the same note, don't pull more all-nighters than you need.

Four, don't procrastinate! Then you really won't have to pull all-nighters! If you look for it, you'll find people and resources to help you with your homework and the stuff you don't understand. I promise. Help is out there.

Five, talk to your professors. If they remember you, chances are your grades will improve, and not necessarily because they know you, but more likely because you know them, and have taken the time to get to know them.

I'm sure I could say more, but I've got class to attend soon, and people to see before that, so enjoy what school you have, and may God bless your coming school year. After all, he's the one who has the master plan in front of him.

The Original

2010-08-17T15:51:00.005-04:00

So often we forget that people, humankind, is made in God's image. Even more often we forget that there is even a God behind the image, behind the creating of humankind, a God that demands worship, and we worship, instead the created, the finite, the fallen and broken, finding nothing but finite, fallen, and broken relationships and love.

Now, before you ask what prompted this post, I'll

tell you. I've been reading CS Lewis' The Four Loves and in the last chapter, he talks about Charity, the gift love, the love that is natural only to God. He also talks about how when we turn to God is the only time we'll find infinite, perfect, and whole relationships and love with one another. Here's a paragraph from his book that struck me.

"For the dream of finding our end, the thing we were made for, in a Heaven of purely human love could not be true unless our whole Faith were wrong. We were made for God. Only by being in some respect like Him, only by being a manifestation of His beauty, loving-kindness, wisdom or goodness, has any earthly Beloved excited our love. It is not that we have loved them too much, but that we did not quite understand what we were loving. It is not that we shall be asked to turn from them, so dearly familiar, to a Stranger [upon meeting them in Heaven]. When we see the face of God we shall know that we have always known it. He has been a party to, has made, sustained and moved moment by moment within, all our earthly experiences of innocent love. All that was true love in them, was even on earth, far more His than ours, and ours only because His. In Heaven there will be no anguish and no duty of turning away from our earthly Beloveds. First, because we shall have turned already; from the portraits to the Original, from the rivulets to the Fountain, from the creatures He made lovable to Love Himself. But secondly, because we shall find them all in Him. By loving Him more than them we shall love them more than we now do."

For some reason the last three sentences make me cry, with happiness. God truly is glorious in all he does. Who wouldn't love the original painting more than the portraits, or the copies? Especially if by studying the original you came to love the art work in the copies more? Praise God for His infinite grace and mercy and His gently turning me back towards Him in every little thing.

loved

2010-07-08T22:36:00.004-04:00

Velvet black night

Pierced with white

Stars waiting quiet

Wide listening sky

Stillest of air

Light hanging there

Out of despair

Rises a prayer

Can we take in Your light so we can shine like You

with all this weariness?

Can we shine like you with this weariness?

So we are loved

We are loved

And it's quite enough that we are loved

We are loved

And it's quite enough that we are loved

If the whole world could feel it

We could love

'Cause we are loved

Surrounded in white

Oh, purest bride

No lovelier sight

The Church will rise

Take in Your light

To shine like You

Take this weariness so we can shine like You

We could love

'Cause we are love

We Are Loved by DC*B

I got his new album today.

...wha??...

2010-07-07T17:43:00.003-04:00

Life continues at a relentless pace. I am constantly shocked at how fast things go.

The summer is already more than half way over. Just two days ago, I was hiking up through the Wilson's Creek Wilderness area with Michael. It was hot, it was sunny where there was no shade, and, gracious me, was it gorgeous. It was his birthday on the fourth, so I felt it only appropriate to see what I could do to make it to his place for his birthday.

Also, I've been reading through my old posts. I started from the beginning, in October of 2008. As I was reading the posts that seem to carry some deeper turmoil, I was trying to figure out just what had happened to make me so emotionally despondent. It was then that I remembered that I had lost a friend to a broken neck in August of '08, so of course I was going to be despondent.

It's amazing to me, and a product of God's amazing grace in my life. There have been times where I look like I have been moving on my own actions. I haven't given my whole thought and being towards pursuing God. It's really very easy to get bogged down in the emotions of the day and time that you are in, and it's easy to forget that our God is completely outside of space and time. And yet through everything, God has reached into my time and place and lifted me to him, showing me grace and mercy beyond measure.

It's a struggle to lift my head above the whirlwind of every day, to glance around me for a brief moment to realize how finite my life is, and to turn and face the God who created me, the God who loves me, the God who has adopted me and called me as his person. By God's grace, I've gotten better at this, but I still have a very long ways to go. O, the blog posts to come.

An Anecdote

2010-06-30T22:50:00.004-04:00

Raspberry Ridge. It's like an idea, a place, and something quite out of reach at the same time, so please forgive the haziness of this post.

The week was hard. The people were sometimes very hard to work with. Tears were shed. Sweat was wrought (especially because it was the hottest week of the summer so far). Patience was tried. Instruments were almost mangled by the humidity. And yet, through it all, God was glorified. By the end of a week and two days, everyone was tired.

A small anecdote of how tired I was the very last day of camp (jr.):

It was early in the morning, about 8:30, and the junior orchestra was playing a rousing, squeaky variation of some song, which I don't remember because of the fog I was in. Gram, the dear, sweet, old lady who owns the property and lives there with her husband Jack, had just come out of the house with an aerosol can in her hands. The previous day I could remember seeing someone walking around with a bottle of WD-40 in their hands to use on something, so in my fog, I automatically assumed that Gram had the bottle of WD-40.

My thoughts when I realized that she was walking into the tent that housed the junior orchestra and its squeaky music was, oh, that's nice! Gram's going to take WD-40 and use it to make all the squeaks in Junior orchestra go away. To which I automatically shook my head and stared at myself.

My goodness was I tired.

When she walked out of the tent, past me, I found to my relief that she was holding a can of wasp spray. She was merely going to wreak havoc on the wasps in the barn again. Apparently she had wandered into the tent seeking, for some reason, an industrial stapler.

Raspberry Ridge time!

2010-06-13T14:34:00.003-04:00

It's Raspberry Ridge time again.

Every year I go to a summer camp that holds a very high place in my heart. It's a place where I can bring my violin (or viola as it turns out this year) and play pieces that are both gorgeous and inspire, but also bring glory to God in the most amazing way possible. This year, our theme is "To the Ends of the Earth."

Raspberry Ridge holds a special place in my heart because it's a place that I can keep to my chest, as if holding a glowing hope. Raspberry Ridge, to me is a picture of Heaven. It's a small symbol of what Heaven will be like. Every year, we have people from all types of denominations, of many different races, of different ages, playing different instruments, some even speak a different birth language. But for one week out of every year, we come together with the same purpose in mind. We come to glorify God to the best of our abilities. There are deep discussions that range from predestination to gun control and back again. Almost everything there is used to make the people involved better Christ Followers. We have Bible Studies that are carefully thought out before hand and the music, the theory classes, and the ensembles all tie into the themes somehow.

I walked into the Raspberry Ridge property today and felt like I was entering my secret garden, a sacred place. This is the place where God has moved and spoken and touched me and everyone at the camp. This is the camp where we've weathered bad weather and a plethora of other dilemmas, including hurricanes, deaths of people who work there and are family members of campers, bloodied faces that require stitches, and cancer. God has pulled all of us together through it. And pulled us all through it together.

Raspberry Ridge has become my family. I have friends who I see only one week a year, but I feel closer to these people sometimes than I do to the people I see every day for a year. In other words, I have brothers and sisters in Christ at Raspberry Ridge, and for that I'm thankful.

Thank God for Raspberry Ridge.

Odds & Ends

2010-06-06T17:09:00.004-04:00

Summer has come rolling in.

In a tank.

With a gun on top.

And a man manning (what else would he be doing? Womaning?) the gun.

With summer comes a small dose of sun burn, bleaching hair, and thunderstorms, a large dose of tan, stress, and a heaping helping of items of both boredom and excitement, and loneliness.

The pool opened on Memorial Day weekend. The pool was as packed as the threatening storms would allow. Since then, I've been life guarding pretty heavily, with yesterday as my heaviest day yet.

In a week, my favorite camp, Raspberry Ridge, starts! I'm playing viola solely! I'm very excited.

Also, I would covet your prayers, whoever is out there, as I struggle with the daily with balancing my growing affections Michael and my desire to pursue God and find my worth and identity in Him.

(Yes, sometimes I feel a little like Nick Cage running through a graveyard with the Declaration of Independence on my back, while being shot at by a guy who is out to get my guts! But only rarely.)

'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus

2010-05-01T23:02:00.002-04:00

How great is our God, clothed in majesty. He wraps himself in light, and darkness tries to hide.

Oh, how He loves us.

I am His new creation, by water and the Word.

For Him I sing I dance, rejoice in this divine romance.

From heaven He came and sought me, to be His holy bride!

(Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss.)

I'm just a dead man, lying on the carpet, can't find a heartbeat!

But, amazing Grace! How sweet the sound that saves a wretch like me.

Alas, and did my savior bleed, and did my Sovereign die.

With His own blood He bought me, and for my life He died.

Would he devote that sacred head for sinners such as I?

I will glory in my Redeemer, whose priceless blood has ransomed me.

My chains are gone, I've been set free!

T'was Grace my fears relieved.

All of a sudden, I am unaware of these earthly afflictions eclipsed by glory.

How great, how glorious, are His ways.

Immortal, invisible God only wise, most blessed, most glorious, the Ancient of Days!

We blossom and flourish but quickly grow frail, we wither and perish but He never fails!

Not what my hands have done, can save my guilty soul.

To see the law by Christ fulfilled, to hear His pardoning voice, changes a slave into a child, and duty into choice.

I bless the Christ of God, I rest on love divine,

because before the throne of God above, I have a strong and prefect plea. My name is graven on His hands, my name is written on His heart, for God, the Just, is satisfied!

I will glory in my Redeemer, my life He bought, my love He owns, I have no longings for another, I'm satisfied in Him alone. I will glory in my Redeemer, His faithfulness my standing place, though foes are might and rush upon me, my feet are firm, held by His grace.

Out From Under the Table

2010-04-18T22:38:00.004-04:00

His name is Michael.

Friday night, after a rousing afternoon of discussion, a rompus viewing of Sherlock Holmes with my sister and her roomie, and a rapid sprint (on my part) around a building to get warm, he walked me home and asked that I text him my dad's phone number.

I did so, with anticipatory excitement.

Then I cleaned the bathroom because my roomie's mom was coming over the next morning before ten. While I cleaned the bathroom, I worshiped. Turns out he was turning to our Father in prayer and worship as well. O, how sweet it is to know that that was foremost in both our minds that night.

Saturday morning went by quickly. It was traumatizing, because I fully expected a call from my dad at any moment. Saturday afternoon was less traumatizing because I found out that Michael had had a staring contest with his phone Saturday morning and lost, and decided to play things like Ultimate Frisbee, Dodgeball and other activities for most of the day with his friends. I can't fault him. I was nervous too. Saturday evening he called my dad. I knew when he did, he told me. And then my dad forgot to call me after his talk with Michael.

My roommate's mom told my roomie to call my dad when they came home later that night to take me to dinner with them and found me flipping out because Dad hadn't called. Needless to say, my dad called shortly after that. We talked briefly, me dancing about crazily outside the restaurant in the cold and expressing my crazy interesting.

Dad called Michael back and told him that he could, in fact, date me. Michael and I texted back and forth while I tried to carry on a semi-normal conversation with my dinner-mates who were more than just my roomie and her mom, and by the time we got back to the apartment, we had finally kinda come to the realization that we were, in fact, now dating.

Our text conversation went something like this:

Me: I've got a feeling about tomorrow [tomorrow being Sunday]... How in depth am I allowed to go tomorrow when Martha asks what went down tonight? She kinda cottoned on to what might be happening. How are you okay with me defining us?

Michael: However you like. Two redeemed sinners seeking God's will together? In a relationship with a purpose? I don't really like semantics, just truth. Who is Martha?

Me: Martha is a girl friend of mine from RUF. And Jill [roomie] shouted from the front of Los [restaurant we were at Saturday night] tonight "Hana has a boyfriend!" I agree with both your descriptions of what we're doing right now, but I think for the sake of being concise, are you okay with me defining it the way Jill did?

Michael: Yes. :-P

And yes, this morning after church, Martha did pounce, and I went through the traditional girl rituals of squealing and giggling. But over all, while I'm giddy and excited, I'm also very aware that I'm not obsessed with Michael. This is a very, very good thing.

This evening for the first time I was introduced as "Michael's girlfriend" twice, in the span of three minutes. Michael and I had taken in a guitar ensemble concert and were waiting for a friend of ours who was in it, who Michael had told this afternoon about the change in relationship. Brian's family had come to the concert, and since Michael's rooming with Brian next year, he wanted to meet Brian's family.

First Brian's dad showed up with Brian's younger brother in tow. Brian went around the circle introducing everyone there to his dad, and he was like, "and this is Michael, and this is Michael's girlfriend, Hana." And then he flashed me this really big grin as if he'd been waiting to do that for a long time, and then asked me, laughingly if it was okay to introduce me that way. I laughingly told him that yeah, it was okay, because it was true. And then his mom shows up. Brian told his mom, "this is my friend Michael, and this is my friend Hana ... who is actually Michael's girlfriend." Michael, consternated by this time, gave Brian this look, and was like, "Brian! Stop! Really!" even though you could tell he was pleased, if a little unused to the introduction. I had to turn to Brian's mom and explain that it was all very new for the two of us, so would she please pardon any awkwardness.

It was kind of weird, and yet, it was a great type of weird.

I could get used to this. God is good, and I don't just say this because He has brought Michael and I together. God is good all the time, and this is the one thing I need to remember.

Here's to you Inigo...

2010-04-14T16:13:00.004-04:00

Being patient is not a strong trait of mine. I'm just going to say that. As stated before (in the previous post) I'm the do-stuff type of person. Waiting is awful. To quote Inigo from Princess Bride, when Westley is climbing the Cliff of Insanity, "I hate waiting." (Thank you KB for that one.)

I can say that since the last blog and this one, not much has changed on the waiting and I-have-no-control front. But things have changed. Over the past weekend, in one way or another (I promise I'll get it all out when it's been resolved), when Sam and I were hanging out, his feelings (positive) for me and my feelings (also positive) for him came out.

Considering I am a year above him, and getting ready to graduate next year, and because he had kinda recently realized that he had more feelings for me than as a brother, we've decided to evaluate our relationship. Also, neither of us want to date frivolously. There would be no point in doing that. If we were to date, we'd want it to be leading, eventually towards something. As scary as the word "marriage" sounds, I can honestly say that after about five days of wrestling with myself, with God, with questions my parents have proposed, I am willing to take a step forward into a dating relationship with Sam (whose real name will possibly come out if this all resolves itself in the dating direction) with the intent towards possible marriage later on.

Now all I have to do is wait on Sam. Yay waiting.

"I hate waiting."

When I say things haven't changed at all, I still mean that while he says his feelings for me go deeper than as a friend, or brother, I am still terrified that he isn't going to think that I'm worth pursuing further. During the summer I live at home three hours away from him, and neither of us have a car. When I student teach two semesters from now, I'll be living at home. If we were to date, we'd have one more semester together on campus, and then it would be a long distance relationship for three semesters at least, unless he came and student taught in my home town.

And he's always taken his time in deciding. Even when it comes to crossing the street, he takes his time deciding when to go without getting both of us killed, while I often make a split second decision on crossing the street that has him sometimes worried for both our lives.

Right now, all I can do is pray and wait. Pray that God leads Sam in the right direction and that my heart would be okay with it no matter which decision it is. And then wait for him to tell me, or call my dad. Which ever his decision is. Waiting is agony. Torture. God is stretching me for all I'm worth. And yet, I know that, like the merciful God He is, He won't stretch me past my breaking point.

If you're reading this, please pray that I am given unlimited supplies of patience and the ability to use all of it. Without stomach pains, or ulcers.

Civil War

2010-04-07T13:07:00.003-04:00

How many times have I posted about trust, about love, about God's sovereignty?

In my last post, (remember the one on trust?), I made a public declaration that I would not pursue a romantic relationship with the young man, who for privacy's sake, I'm still going to call Sam. I made a public declaration that I wouldn't pursue any type of relationship like that with anyone.

I lied.

I quickly started falling back into the old habit of texting him constantly, of almost stalking him, trying to find out where he was at all times, of looking for him between classes, of asking him to go to lunch with me a couple of times. In essence, I was pursuing him. I love hanging out with him, and his friendship is important to me, but I want something more too, and it's kinda driving me up the wall.

As much as I let a guy know my feelings for him, I will never tell him outright that I like him. I know that I need to have him say it first. He needs to be the one to take that first step. And with him taking that first step, I also want to feel pursued.

Sam is so quiet and laid back that he wasn't (isn't) going fast enough for my high spiritedness, my eagerness to jump into everything. I was trying to hurry things along.

And then I went home for Easter Break this past weekend. I had good talks with both my mom and with my best friend. Both said the same thing: "Stop initiating." I worried, I fretted, I bit my nails (okay, so I didn't bite my nails, but if I had a nervous habit, I would have been doing that). I knew they were right. I hadn't been sitting back and letting God take care of everything. It's just so hard. As an oldest child, I am the one that normally gets out there and starts bushwhacking. It's hard to sit back and let someone else take their own speed, if they're taking any speed at all.

So, I stopped texting Sam. I would let him text me first before texting him. I stopped initiating. So far it's really only the third day, but already, I've broken down twice (that happened last night), and I'm not going to invite him to have lunch or dinner or do anything with me. If he wishes, I'm going to let him pursue me. I'm scared though, that he's not going to want to pursue me. I'm terrified that he won't want to pursue me. I have trouble figuring out why I'd want to pursue me. If I don't want to pursue me, why would he even bother?

But again, God has been gracious, more-so than I deserve. Over and over again, I've been overwhelmed by His all consuming love for me. Each time it makes me want to cry, or it does make me cry. I am no more deserving of God's love than the serial killer on the street corner, and yet for some reason He does love me. I don't know why, but hopefully, His grace will be enough to sustain me in this battle I am fighting with myself.

Trust, the Ultimate Factor

2010-02-11T23:38:00.004-05:00

So, I'm relationally lonely. It's been about three years since I've been in a relationship. Oddly enough, that's been my only relationship ever. I've explained in previous blogs about this relationship. It wasn't exactly the healthiest of relationships, but it served God's purpose. Before my relationship, I had been okay with dating just because I felt like it. After three months and a failed relationship, I knew that from then on I was going to be picky. I told the young man, "No offense, but I don't think I'm going to be dating for a while." When I told him that, I thought "a while" was until about a month after I got to college, but here I am in the spring semester of my junior year of college, and I still haven't gotten into a relationship with anyone.

Well, maybe I have to define relationship. I have plenty of "relationships", but they're all friendships. When I say "relationship" I mean one on one with a member of the opposite sex. In this case, the male gender.

Besides the one date I've gone on in freshman spring, nothing to entirely exciting has happened. The opportunity to enter into a relationship with a young man has happened, but I've turned them down. I simply won't be in a one sided relationship, and I don't do the pursuing. Well, I don't pursue more then the young man.

In March of last year, God knocked on the door of my heart and was like, "um, hey, you know that knight in shining armor that you've been looking for all your life? Well, here I am! I've saved you from a dragon! I love you. You are betrothed to me and I will never leave you, I love you that much." For about two weeks I felt like someone, a mortal, human someone, had told me that he loved me. I was on air, I floated around campus with a large grin on my face, and I'm sure that people wondered what had me so happy. It cut the depression I suffer from occasionally completely out of my life. From March 'till October-ish, I was completely satisfied in the fact that I was single and betrothed to the God of the Universe.

And then, in the middle of school, when I was tired and worn out and desperately in need of someone to take care of me when I couldn't ask for help myself, the fact that I wanted someone next to me, someone who actually cared about me, someone who would make me feel visible, came tumbling on my like a sack of bricks. There were a couple of particularly bad days where I cried and pled with God to change my relationship "status". Every time eventually, I would calm down and tell God that if He wished it, I would take it. For some reason, I would tell myself (and still do actually), at this moment, Adam is in the Garden alone, and it's God's will.

This semester it hasn't been much easier. I still want someone who will be here to care about me. I want someone who can make me feel visible, but then again, we've talked about this visibility thing. It's a selfishness thing. This semester I've admitted to myself several times there are several young men who I could easily like as more then just friends. It would all depend on God's ideas. One of these young men I see almost every day and he's always kinda and gentle and a gentleman.

Also recently, my sister suggested that I watch, for fun, BBC's 2009 version of Emma, by Jane Austen. Mr. Knightley has always been my favorite Jane Austen character because he's Emma's best friend, the man who is willing to wait for her, fight for her, admonish her and be there for her when she's being stupid and silly. The actor who plays this particular Mr. Knightley hits the nail on the head, and has had me swooning for the past week. I've probably redeveloped the crush I first had on him. In fact I liked this particular Mr. Knightley so much that after I saw the 2009 Emma for the first time, I almost cried. I was sorely grieved that I didn't have a Mr. Knightley. Who wouldn't want a gentleman who was everything described above and who could dance extraordinarily well?!

The problem with this was that after watching Mr. Knightley's interactions with Emma and wanting them badly myself, I began to look around me for Mr. Knightley. My sore heart automatically turned to the young man now closest to me, the one I see every day. We'll call him, for privacy's sake, Sam. I love spending time with Sam. He apparently likes spending time with me too. I have fun. I am comfortable around him, especially talking about our shared faith. He's quiet too, which is something I probably need in my life. Needless to say, because of Emma, Mr. Knightley and my loneliness, I have started looking, maybe unconsciously. I am now realizing that. I've had to ask God several times in the past week to keep me from wanting Sam just because I'm lonely. I want to want someone for them, and because I feel like God is leading me in that direction, not because I am lonely.

This is, in effect, my public declaration of my trust in God. I will stop trying to pursue any type of relationship with any young man. At least I will try. I know in my head that God will write my love story and that He will bring people in to my life just when I'm loneliest so that I won't be lonely. I just need to have that translate to my heat now. God Help. Until that time that He brings a young man into my life, and past that, He will always be all that I will ever need.

Invisiwoman!!

2010-01-24T20:53:00.003-05:00

I have a confession to make. I'm a very selfish person.

How, you might ask, did I come to that conclusion?

Well, thank you for asking! I'll tell you.

The last four weeks (at least) of last semester, I felt completely invisible to those around me. To my friends in RUF (Reformed University Fellowship) I felt as if they were merely looking through me and then talking to me when I got in their way, or they couldn't help it. To my friends in the music building, I kinda felt the same way, though I think it was more pronounced with the RUFers because one doesn't expect them to act that way normally. As a result, I became grumpy, though I think the grump in me was fueled by lack of sleep, work load, and just over-exhaustion in general. In college one is always either mentally exhausted, physically exhausted, or both. Also, the weather didn't help. This little town isn't known for it's sunny days. Part of me wondered what was wrong with me, and another part of me wondered what was wrong with my friends.

And then I went home for Christmas Break. Christmas Break where my family is overjoyed to see me and slathers love and affection on me. And yet, a whole break goes by with no one from school saying hi to me, besides my roomie (who doesn't count), and a couple guys from RUF, one who got distracted 30 seconds into our IM by his gf (so I don't blame him), and the other who commented on my wall, and on a post shortly before break finished. There were a couple of times where I felt absolutely unseen, invisible, and more than slightly useless to my friends. I even posted about it on here. Yes, I was that upset.

And then I had to go back to college. I didn't want to because it was at college where I felt like I existed in my own mind only. When I got back, the first thing I had was an RUF meeting, because I'm on the servant team. I was extremely apprehensive about going because I wondered if things would continue the way they had ended in December. I was relieved to see that I was wrong. People were warm and friendly and I was about 99% visible.

I spoke to a couple friends about my feelings, and they agreed with me, they'd felt slightly invisible as well. I knew then that my feelings weren't unfounded. Go me! So, I talked to my campus minister (Matt) about the whole situation. He sympathized. I told him, truthfully, that I was now becoming apathetic about being invisible. I was scared that I was okay with being invisible. "If they don't want to see me, they won't." I told Matt. He said he'd pray for me.

Then, I had an amazing conversation with a friend on the servant team. He and I discussed this invisible feeling, and he kinda (without meaning to) slapped me around and set me back on my feet. Our discussion made me realize that there are other people out there who feel the same way. What am I doing sitting on my rear-end if there are people out there who are feeling invisible? Christ spent 33 years on this earth making sure people didn't feel invisible, all at His own expense.

And that's when I realized that I was incredibly selfish. I was getting tired of pursuing friendships with people because I wanted them to come after me, and sometime that's not a bad thing, but other times... well. I think I can and should put aside my own comfort and (sometimes) happiness to make other people feel 100% visible. I know how much it hurts, so I can throw myself into making sure they don't feel that way. I don't know how well I'll do, but we'll see.

As a result of all this complication, I'm suddenly starting to feel close to (if not) 100% visible.

hmm... interesting.

Stop speaking in riddles!

2010-01-08T20:51:00.003-05:00

Honestly, I've decided today that if I die with some important message to give to whoever is there with me, I will give it and not speak in riddles. Really.

If you're wondering what brought this on, every movie that I watch where someone dies and has an important message to pass on, they speak in riddles and it takes the hero/ine the entire movie to understand! Really.

I Feel Like a Monster

2010-01-05T13:04:00.001-05:00

There is a monster in me trying to get out. It is the selfishness that daily invades my habits, my face, my heart, my life; it hurts the people around me, and some times, most of the time, I don't mind. "I feel like a monster!" Skillet screams to the skies in one of their latest hit songs. They're right. There is so much filth in my life and I realize I've just uncovered the first layer. I don't know what to do about it half the time, but then I realize that I have a Savior. He was so perfect that this filth, while plainly visible to both me and God, doesn't make a difference in my acceptance into the family of God.

I am so unworthy of everything that it should keep me in constant awe of the fact that I have a family, a life, breath, but for some reason, I take it all for granted. Again. I think about me. My life. My family. My non-existent relationship. My school. My worries. My fears. My insecurities. My absolute inability to keep myself from spiraling down-wards into depression. Why does God love me? Again with the "me" word. He certainly doesn't love me for me. There's too much nasty in me for me to love me. There's definitely a reason I haven't "found someone" yet.

God is infinite good. That word infinite is so strange. We use it occasionally in every day conversation, but we really fly past the meaning and still use it. This really shouldn't be done, but it's hard to help sometimes. Infinite is such an impossibly large word. It has no end. A God who is good and who is infinite can never be anything but good. His goodness will never come to an end. And because there is nothing that is innately evil, only good things that have been twisted and used for the wrong reason, as CS Lewis wrote in his book Mere Christianity, God can never be evil, or bad either, because He is also infinitely unchangeable.

After writing that last sentence I had to stop and think about that for a little while, because I was overwhelmed.

But anyway, how am I supposed to approach this infinitely good and unchangeable God? How would you approach a God who created you, and who is, besides infinitely unchangeable, and infinitely good, also infinitely just and holy, pure, and wrathful towards sin? God's holiness is so holy that it consumes anything that is not as wholly holy as itself. "Our God is a consuming fire," says Hebrews 12. In the Old Testament there were several instances where people were literally fried because they were in the wrong place, they said the wrong thing, or their unholiness had got in the way of God's holiness. It's simply because of His grace and mercy that people aren't being fried right and left right now.

Unholiness of my magnitude cannot stand in the presence of holiness of God's magnitude. No one can see God and live. They can hear God, as demonstrated with the Israelites at Mount Sinai, but for some reason, the Israelites demonstrated, not a fear of God, but an unwillingness to listen to Him, a complete stubbornness towards entering into communion with the God of the universe. Part of me doesn't understand that! Every little bit of me, most of the time, longs, yearns, to hear the voice of God, to see His face. So many times, I've wanted desperately to be in Moses' place, in the cleft of the rock as God covers me with His hand and then passes before me.

But then we have a problem. I am unholy. My filth would be consumed, and me along with it, if I were to see God. I think it would be worth it though, to be consumed. Yet, I would not be consumed: just my filth. Christ has placed Himself between me and God's holiness. He has given me His holiness, and I am seen as holy, and pure when God in all His holiness looks upon me. That doesn't mean I can sin and get away with it. That doesn't mean my filth won't be judged. It just means that Christ has taken all my sin and filth upon Himself. Christ the Rock of my salvation was cleft for me, and now, like Moses, I can hide myself in the cleft of the Rock while I gaze on the glory of God's back as he passes by me.

It is a strange and wonderful God who requires that all I do to be washed of my utter filth and to see His glory is to admit that I am filthy. I am wholly unclean, the lowest of the low, and yet God, in all His goodness, His love, His infiniteness, God decided for some unfathomable reason that He would allow me into His kingdom, and would allow me to see His glory. I, a mere mortal, am allowed into the presence of the King of Kings who is wholly immortal and holy. Thank God that He loves me not because of me, but because He is love, infinite love.

I would be completely and utterly lost, drowning in a sea of me, but God came and pulled me out by my hair. And for that I worship Him as much as my mortal and forgetful person can.

God, save me.

Christmas?

2009-12-25T23:58:00.000-05:00

Out of curiosity, why are we so ungrateful at Christmas time?

um...

2009-12-18T18:12:00.003-05:00

Some times I wonder who are my friends, and who are merely passing through and hang out with me and have fun with me simply because I'm there when they are. Why do I have to do some of the pursuing in the friendships? Okay, most of it in these types of friendships. Hello college friends, Goodbye college friends.

In other news, I seem to have lost my conscience. If you find him, please let him know that I miss him.

The Roads Most Traveled

2009-12-11T00:47:00.003-05:00

The roads we travel may take us all down the same path, or they may take us down different paths. I'm okay with that. The hard part, the rewarding part, is the travel, and what you do with who you meet on the way.

I have a friend who is graduating on Sunday. He's not entirely certain where he's going in life after this. He's okay with this. He knows that God's going to take care of him. He's also certain that all he needs to do is trust God and go after what God gives him.

I have another friend who is moving up in this world. He's going to become a SEAL. It's a huge deal, and he's worried that he's not going to make it that far. He's leaving family, home, friends, all to do this. He'd already left home and family and friends to join the Navy, but now he's moving further away. He knows that this is where God wants him. God's given him all the open doors to move ahead with this. God's given him the passion to rise above the rest and become a SEAL. He's worried, but he's going ahead because this is where God wants him.

I am not at a crossroads. I am not doing anything special with my life right now, and I'm not going anywhere special, except home for the holidays in about 4 days. And yet, for some reason, the traveled path, the one that's been traveled, the one that I sometimes feel like I'm traveling alone can be the hardest. The only thing hard about a crossroad is coming to them and making the decision about which way to go. The hard thing about plodding along is the plodding. You can easily lose sight of where you are going. If the landscape is not changing, you're liable to think that you aren't going anywhere. This is very dangerous, because if you aren't going anywhere, you might as well sit down and rest. If you're in a battle, resting is the worst thing to do.

Each of us has a personal battle. Joshua, in the old testament had not only a personal battle to fight, but a public one, and he had to lead a bunch of people too. As he was getting ready to do this, and quaking in his boots, God spoke through Moses to Joshua and to the people of Israel. In Deuteronomy 31: 1-8, God speaks amazing wisdom and grace.

Then Moses went out and spoke these words to all Israel: "I am now a hundred and twenty years old and I am no longer able to lead you. The LORD has said to me, 'You shall not cross the Jordan.' The LORD your God himself will cross over ahead of you. He will destroy these nations before you, and you will take possession of their land. Joshua also will cross over ahead of you, as the LORD said. And the LORD will do to them what he did to Sihon and Og, the kings of the Amorites, whom he destroyed along with their land. The LORD will deliver them to you, and you must do to them all that I have commanded you. Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."

Then Moses summoned Joshua and said to him in the presence of all Israel, "Be strong and courageous, for you must go with this people into the land that the LORD swore to their forefathers to give them, and you must divide it among them as their inheritance. The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."

Do not be discouraged.

2009-11-22T23:55:00.002-05:00

Being lonely is a powerful feeling. It can overwhelm you like a tidal wave of negative feelings. It can push you down, knock the breath out of you, it can even make you feel dead inside. Just when it seems like you might be getting a breath of fresh air, it pulls you back under.

Being lonely is hard to overcome. It's time when this happens that I have to look to my savior, and trust that he knows why, for this brief space of time, Adam is in the garden alone.

Something for the dance...I mean road...

2009-11-09T12:30:00.002-05:00

Fiddle lessons are in the works. So are naps, rest stops and Thanksgiving breaks. A Gaelic Storm blew through here last night and left some toe tapping behind. Also ear bugs. They seem to thrive off the rumpus that is left in this Gaelic Storm's wake. Speaking of "wake", it's not like you can sleep when it blows through. It drones, rather like a bagpipe. One would have thought there was an entire brigade out there. I'm about to bow out, but I'd like to leave you with something that will resonate with your ear drums. And probably your toes.

loop-dee-doop-dee...

2009-11-04T08:40:00.003-05:00

So, very recently, I've discovered that I'm not fully here. It started Monday night. I was tired, and feeling a little loopy. I'm so tired, I'm not dreaming vividly anymore. Tuesday was worse. I was really loopy yesterday. At times it alternated between happy loopy and wanting-to-cry loopy. There were also times where I appeared to be not-loopy at all! I'm still not all here today. I need a nap. Desperately. I'm probably going to get one around three this afternoon. Yay.

whirling, twirling, down we go!

2009-11-02T19:56:00.003-05:00

Well, happy November. With November comes Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving break, lots of tests, lots of other things, and everything in general is spiraling around my ears, taunting me and making fun of the fact that I feel like and am behind on my homework. Thank God for professors who are understanding and allow you to have different due dates. Extensions are life savers. Now, before you say, "You've been procrastinating!!" I get to say, "Not true! I was sick for about two and a half weeks!" And yes, I did just anticipate what you were going to say and slap down your accusation. Go me.

Now, little ol' me is going to go. I've got work to do! (She said in a very super-hero-esque way.)

ttfn! ta-ta for now!

Weather and possible seasonal affect disorder...heh

2009-10-08T22:56:00.007-04:00

It's amazing how the weather and a good night's sleep can affect ones mood. (By "ones" I mean "my" of course.) And yet even though my mood is crazy, and up and down, God's goodness is not affected. God cannot be affected by my mood, by the weather, by classes or anything. The only thing it can be influenced by is the day. God's goodness and mercy are NEW every day. They're not old. They never get old!

This week has been a strange one. I was tired going into it, and recently, I've been realizing that I really wish I could be in a relationship, though I am also realizing that it's not important, because God has ordained when and whether it even happens. Let me tell it this way:

When I get tired I dream very vividly. This semester has been very tiring. I've been getting about seven and a half hours of sleep a night, if that. The only time I get more is on the weekends, and normally it's not much more... I've been sleeping poorly because for some reason, my shoulders and back become very tense in the middle of the night, so while I go to sleep relaxed, I wake up tense and because of that stuffy. This is the reason I normally don't get more then 9 hours of sleep on the weekends, unless I have a headache. Needless to say, I dream very very vividly when I am tired, exhausted. Most of the time I'll remember for about 30 seconds after I wake up, but very occasionally, I'll remember them later, throughout most of the day. The thing is, lately, I've been remembering only the dreams that seem to affect me the most. My consciousness seems to think, Oh, this one will really rattle her, let's remember this one. And because I have recently been wishing that there was a someone who could come along side me and support me and be there for me and love me, someone I could do the same for, well, every time I have a dream that falls into that category, it seems that I remember it.

About the end of last week, I had two dreams, about two days apart. I had one dream in which a young man who is constantly in my life, who plays banjo in my RUF praise team, starred. In this dream I dreamed (what else would I do in a dream, really?) that he was very concerned about the fact that I'd hopped a ride with a friend on his motorcycle, minus a helmet, and didn't I know that I could die? The fact that the dream young man was concerned about my dream self caused a realization between our dream selves that we really liked each other. Naturally, when I woke up I was all in a dither because of this dream. It's a dream, yes, but I've been told by various people through out my life that dreams are great ways to interpret emotion. I decided I needed to not do that with this dream. It's not smart. Then about two days later, I had another dream, this time about another young man who I know less well, and whom I contra-dance with. I know I don't have feelings for this second young man. Dreams are silly, and one should not base feelings off dream feelings.

Then comes this week. I was feeling particularly gloomy, Monday afternoon and evening and felt a bit like I could cry the later half of the day. I didn't feel pretty. Monday night I didn't get great sleep; Tuesday morning was brutal. I actually got out of bed to check and make sure that I couldn't skip my first class that day. I was dreary Tuesday as well. Again, not very pretty. I was tired, and out of sorts, and when I'm tired and out of sorts, I just want a hug, or someone to care for me, someone to take me by the shoulders and shake me a little and say, "GO TO BED. YOU NEED SLEEP." and then to assure me that they'll take care of me, no matter what my mood. What I'm trying to say is that when I'm tired and gloomy, my relationship gap becomes painfully obvious to me, and I can't see two feet in front of me.

I had praise team practice tuesday night, and during a rather lively discussion with one of the members, Josh, about good music, we both discovered that we liked the same band, Shane & Shane. He was asking me what music I have from them and was appalled to find out that I didn't have any, because I don't have money to buy any... Anyway, praise team continued, and I left disgruntled, because I was going to have to walk, first to the music building, and then home, in the dark. I grumbled through both walks because nobody had thought to offer me a ride. By the time I got home, I had completely lost sight of God and any goodness He might have.

When I had walked in the door, and set my stuff down, I looked first to my desk, and there was a letter there from my grandma. In it was 50 much needed dollars. She said she was praying I wouldn't lose my smile. I was shocked. Next, after finding food, I opened my computer and then my email. I found in my email to itunes gifts from Josh. They were both Shane & Shane songs. The first one was "You Said", talking about how if we ask, God will pour out his love and blessings on us. The second "This is the day the Lord has made". Both were songs with messages I needed to hear. God pointed me back to Himself, in the matter of about 5 minutes. He is amazing. He showed me, very simply that He could fill me both physically (the money) and spiritually (the songs). I love and (try to) worship an amazing God. Amazing.

crazy hecticness = awesomeness

2009-09-10T21:47:00.008-04:00

Life has settled down into a nice, hectic routine. I like hectic routines. They give me something interesting to do. I enjoy running frantically from one spot to the next. This is much more calming then, say, having two jobs during the summer and trying desperately to keep them from over lapping, and then ending up with days filled with _____. What was that you say? oh. I meant to put nothing there. And nothing is there. heh.

As it is, I'm running like a chicken with my head cut off. Also, good news, my classes are fantastic!

Even better news is that God is gracious. I have realized again, and with some fantastic finality, that I really am not worried about who God has in store for me. It's amazing. When I was younger, I used to think it would be great to get married and have kids, and the idea of writing letters to my husband while I was younger and waiting for him seemed so romantic, but the problem of all this was that my letters were directed towards anyone that I had a large crush on at the moment. I feel like, if I wanted to, I could sit down and write a letter to my future husband without imagining a current crush reading it. I've realized that my feelings towards a crush now do not get in the way. That's huge. And it's amazing. I'm sure you remember how worried I was that things would change and that I would lose sight of who my betrothed is, but God has been amazing and helped me keep in sight that anyone, anyone, he brings into my life will merely be my help-meet on the long road to God's throne room.

I am so looking forward to anything that God throws in my lap, because I know that ultimately, He's the one who's going to be taking care of it for me.

Oh, and I just lost the game.

~H

bad joke 2:

2009-09-04T23:38:00.001-04:00

Answer:

Moby Pickle.

Heh...

A really bad joke:

2009-09-03T21:11:00.001-04:00

What lives in the ocean and is really big, green and weighs 4000 lbs?

answer coming tomorrow (feel free to take a guess... heh)

First Day of Classes!

2009-08-25T13:16:00.003-04:00

Classes started up today. I've had two already, and am looking at two more, at least. This isn't the final schedule either! It's good to be back in Boone, and even though I'm outside, it's overcast, so it makes it easier to see the computer screen.

Right at this moment, I'm sitting on Sanford Mall watching two different frisbee things happening. One is a large group with a lot of guys, maybe one girl, and the other is David and a girl named Hailey that I just met and Sammi. Sammi and David are RUFers and I think Hailey has potential to be. I'm watching and trying not to get hit with the hacky-sack that is being bopped around by two guys. They're fairly good. It is wet, but that's ok. I'm sitting on a notebook. The clouds look like they could either break up, or start raining. We'll see which happens.

My next class is astronomy, so, for the first time in my life, I get to really study the stars. The book looks like a bunch of rubbish, but that's ok, I guess, because I know the real way the universe started. I just hope that there isn't too much math. I don't care for math. Eh. It will be my first time in the CAP building, which is the Chemistry/Astronomy/Physics building. It'll be interesting. I just hope I can find the right room number.

I'm very excited about the fact that I got into the low strings class that I needed. It's an answered prayer. I just hope this next one works out. It's a class that happens every other fall, so I could technically take it next fall, but I really don't want to miss it this fall if it does happen this fall. It's a whole big screwed up mess. w00t!

Pray that I get a job. I need one.

Jack Sparrow Foolish

2009-08-15T22:13:00.004-04:00

Note to self:

Blowing on cabinet doors does not shut them. Nor does puffing on a sail in a sail boat move the boat. It just makes you look a lot like Cap'n Jack Sparrow trying to put out a fire.

Looking silly is never a very good thing, but feeling silly, feeling foolish never helps one's countenance. I'm feeling a little bit foolish. I suppose though, that comes from being tired and human. My last post, you know, the one about being nervous? I'm still nervous. But, I keep forgetting that I don't have to do it all on my own. I get most nervous when I think I have to do everything on my own. When I think I have to face each day by myself, I get very very nervous. Everything I do is like blowing on a cabinet door to get it to shut. Thank God that I don't have to blow a cabinet door shut. Thank God that I don't have to blow myself along in a sailboat with just the weakness of my breath. Thank God that He is my strength, that He is the one who scatters the wind on the earth, the one who creates the storm and calms it all at the same time.

I forget to pray that He would calm the storm in my heart, in my stomach. I'm so weak, weary, and utterly vulnerable. I have to believe that He's doing this for a reason, but I so hate being human, especially when it means that I can't take care of the problem myself. One would think that I normally style myself as a god, if suddenly feeling weak and vulnerable, helpless, makes me this uncomfortable.

God, please help me. Give me the strength to worship you with everything I have. I'm so human. But you made me this way, and you made me this way for a reason. Please help me to glorify you with my weaknesses. I love you in my tiny selfish way, I love you because you loved me first, and I don't know how to love you any other way, but please, please, let me radiate, shine, glow with your radiance, with your Glory. I want to be like Moses. I don't know what I'm doing, but I want to be like Moses. Please.

2 Corinthians 4:7-12 "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. ⁸We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; ⁹persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. ¹⁰We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. ¹¹For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. ¹²So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you."*

May God use me to shine His light on the darkened mountains around me.

Th-th-that's all folks!
~H

*Thank you, Patrick, for the verses that helped me pull myself together.

nervous? yes.

2009-08-07T22:54:00.003-04:00

I am unusually nervous about heading back to school. God is gracious. He has taught me so much this summer, and I'm so eager to continue learning whatever He has to teach me, but it's so hard sometimes to actually do what I know I should do, what He wants me to do. I'm almost afraid that I'll not be the person I'm supposed to be. I don't want to be afraid of being as close to being 100% me. If I'm worshiping God with everything I have, then I will be close to being 100% me. I'm nervous. Pray that God will show me His grace and mercy as I struggle through worshiping Him with everything that I try to do.

Eating Out

2009-07-28T18:07:00.002-04:00

I've decided I don't like going out to eat by myself, even dressed in ratty work clothes. I keep getting stared at by MEN. And it's uncomfortable. I keep wanting to tell them, "um.. it's RUDE to stare. You're NOT being a gentleman! STOP staring!!" and then throw something in their face. Stupid men.

~H

Love, and Amazingness

2009-07-15T23:10:00.006-04:00

What is love? I've come to understand this more and more since my revolutionary discovery in march. I used to think that love was explained well in romance books, in the stories I read. The hero and heroine, in love, the hero doing acts of kindness for the heroine. Maybe the two of them would argue and mock each other through out most of the book, but then the hero does something that changes the way the heroine looks at him... or maybe they just realize that they've been meant for each other all this time.

I read a lot on FictionPress, and a while back, I read a story where this girl went through this really tough time and the guy who she fell in love with had helped her through her tough time. What really got me was the epilogue at the end of the story when it was the same girl about 3 years later dating another guy. The author had put in her note at the end of the story, "I know most of you are probably stunned and a little bit upset about the fact that she didn't stay with So & So, but it just isn't realistic! They were in high school! High school relationships don't last!"

This concept got me thinking. If we head into a relationship with anything don't we want it to last? We like a level of consistency in our lives. We expect friendships to last, and when they drift apart, some times it hurts. We expect our relationship with our car to last as long as the life of the car, and we expect that to be a very long life. We expect our pets to be around for ever. We also expect that these relationships and the love, or like, based around them isn't going to change, except for the better. Why else do we always smile and nod happily when we hear of a husband and wife who've been married for going on 40 years and were high school sweethearts before that?

God, as the author of love is infinite, unchanging and goes on "forever and ever and ever" (to quote DC*B). I feel like dancing and skipping and singing at the top of my lungs; shrieking because of this next amazing thing. Because God is the author of love, real love, true love does go on forever! It's not something that begins and then ends in the span of a week, month or even a year! If you are loving someone with God's love, the love God gave you for them then it's going to keep going! OH MY GOSH! IT'S AMAZING!! This is why we want to be able to have a relationship that lasts! To have a relationship that lasts, we must first have a lasting relationship with the who makes relationships.

As a side note, this is why gay relationships are wrong. The only type of right relationship is the one that God created. He specifically created a female for Adam, not another male. He made it so that females and males would work together to build a family and life better then two males. Besides, if he'd made two males, there would be no other humans. (yes, I know the falacy of this statement... God can do anything...)

As another side note, the thing we feel for each other in high school can turn into love, but most likely it is affection. Real and true love will most likely show itself over several years time. Too, real love is a steady thing, willing to sacrifice its own happiness for the happiness of the people/person it loves. Affection or emotions are a genuine thing that often lead to love, but affection or emotion by itself is a dangerous and often painful thing.

God is absolutely amazing.

On a completely different topic, I've been talking with my mentor, and my mother, and a couple of friends and have the feeling that God has been using at least these last two years of instruction (and for however long He feels like) as an instruction period before something amazing happens. God's going to do something amazing, and I can just feel it. Thank the Lord for his amazing mercies which are new each and every single morning.

That's all for now folks!
~H

Wherefore Worship?

2009-06-29T21:42:00.005-04:00

There is, I think, something built into every human being (and maybe every creature, plant, animal, bug, inanimate object) on this earth. That is the desire to worship something. Dictionary.com says on their list of what "worship" means,

7. To feel an adoring reverence or regard for (any person or thing)

It also comes up with the synonyms: honor, venerate, revere, adore, glorify, idolize, adulate. This is rather telling. Worship is something that is not only done towards a deity, and by the pious, but is also done by the common man, the punk with piercings all over his body, the geek with his calculator in hand, the overworked mom with food on her front, the high school girl in the bathroom making her self throw up.

You know that question: If you were stuck on an island indefinitely, what would you bring with you? (In other words, would could you not do without.) If you're a Christian in a Christian circle when this answer comes up, you're automatically going to give the church answer of "my bible," or, "my book of prayers," or something equally as church-y ("my Hymnal!"). The question is the same when you substitute it with "who would you bring with you" instead of "what". (On a slight side note, there's always the saying about a couple, "He/she worships the ground he/she walks on!")

If you have anything that you, at one point, realize that you couldn't do with out, you are, to some degree, worshiping it. If you have adoring feelings for it that place it above all other things, you are worshiping it. Gosh... that doesn't leave room for much that I'm not worshiping. Maybe I'm being a little extreme here. I think though, to look at one extreme a person needs to look at the opposite extreme. Either your worship everything, or you worship one thing. What you worship will affect your life, the way you live, the way you talk, the way you act.

Have you ever watched a really good movie, read a really good book, or heard a really good song? What happens if you see the movie more then once, read the book over and over again, or hear the song a billion times? I know what happens for me. I start quoting funny lines from the movie, dreaming about characters from the books, or quoting points the author made in the books to make points of my own, or I'll be singing the chorus of the song for weeks, frustrated that I have the "stupid song running around and around in my head again!!" Whatever I'm "in to" becomes a part of me.

Psalm 115 (I love this psalm) says:

⁴ Their idols are silver and gold,
the work of human hands.
⁵They have mouths, but do not speak;
eyes, but do not see.
⁶They have ears, but do not hear;
noses, but do not smell.
⁷They have hands, but do not feel;
feet, but do not walk;
and they do not make a sound in their throat.
⁸ Those who make them become like them;
so do all who trust in them.*

The Bible states that those who worship things, those who make idols out of things will slowly become like them! That's huge. I look at eternity and I realize, do I really want to be like that book, or that person, or that tv show for all of eternity? What do the things I worship on this earth actually do for me? Do they make me a better person? Do they help me find happiness? I'll be happy with them for a little while, but not for all eternity. Twilight, or a CD of songs, or my favorite mascara is looking pretty dull against the backdrop of eternity. So, I need something to match up to this colorful and inexhaustible backdrop.

Right now, there is only one thing I can think of that matches that backdrop and outstretches, outshines and out-colors it. That one thing is God. God is so colorful it hurts. He is so eternal it's exhaustive. He is so personal it's almost too personal. My God created the Heavens and the earth, He created me. He created the things I love. If He created me, that means he also created that desire that I have to worship something. He also realized that I would not find the ultimate satisfaction to that desire here on earth. I was made for something more. I was made to worship Him with all I have. C. S. Lewis once said, "If we discover a desire within us that nothing in this world can satisfy, we should begin to wonder if perhaps we were created for another world." I think he's very, very right.

I told you in my last post that I thought God might be teaching me about worship. What I have realized recently is that the worship we have here is a taste of heaven. We practice worshiping God here because that's all we'll be doing in heaven. We practice singing songs of praise to God so we can be ready to sing out in our best voices in heaven! What's amazing is that we can worship God through making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (to quote Matt Gurney), or by putting our socks, or flipflops on in the morning. I'm never fully going to stop learning about worship, just like I'm never fully going to stop learning about relationships, God's sovereignty, or anything else that God reveals to me about Himself! The worship that I'm learning here on earth is just practice so that I can worship God with all my might when I finally get to heaven.

With everything I do in live, I want to worship God. I want my whole life to be a "living sacrifice," testifying to the amazing power of my Lord. He created me, and he created the ground I walk on. Like I've said elsewhere, I want to worship the God whose ground I walk on.

That's all for tonight folks! (I really need to get to bed...)
~H

*ESV translation, (It's so good, I suggest reading the whole psalm!)

lessons learned, part etc.

2009-06-17T21:28:00.003-04:00

Many times I feel like God is trying to teach me something. For the past two years now, I felt like God has taught me in blocks. They normally go in chunks of school years and summers. It's strange, really, but exciting.

My first year at college was all about me learning that God is really bigger then anything I can throw at Him. I had to find a new church, a new "family", a new campus ministry, new friends, and while all that seemed overwhelming, God took care of every single one of those details, and He did them in perfect timing. I can look back on that school year and say that I grew in God through what I learned that year.

That first summer home was spent on communication with my family, with my parents, and through re-learning how to communicate with my parents, God taught me how important the unit called "family" was. Without my family, without my parents and all the support I've gotten through this unit, I wouldn't have gotten where I am today. Thank God for His gracious support through my family.

My second year at college was all about relationships. It's as if God said, "You figured out that I can handle anything, so why don't you hand me your relationships?" About half way through the fall semester, I broke my finger, and couldn't play violin, or anything except very feeble piano, for about 6 or 7 weeks. During this time, I had an identity crisis, because I'd always (for at least 10 years) been "the violinist", and now I couldn't play. I even got to the point where I was asking the question, "If I died tonight, would anyone, besides my family, miss me past the first week?" And then I realized, through talking with my RUF leader that if I was putting that much of my identity into my violin, that was that much identity not being placed in God. I needed to find my identity in Him, and Him only, because He is the one who gave me my talent for musical instruments to begin with!

Also, that year, I had a slight panic attack because I liked a guy and knew he wasn't going to like me back, and as per Hana, I couldn't figure out what to do about it, when it was kinda like, "let's sit back and enjoy the ride, see where it goes, and while we're at it, maybe we'll pursue God in the meantime." God was gracious an honored my feeble attempts to pursue Him, and one night in March, knocked on the door of my heart and was like, "You don't need a knight in shining armor! Duh! I'm your knight! I've been here since the beginning, just waiting to sweep you off your feet! I rescued you from a dragon." It was amazing, because that night, I was able to say for the first time in my life that I was happy being single, and it wasn't because I didn't have a crush, but it was because God, Jesus, was/is my bridegroom.

I can already tell that this summer, God is teaching me about worship. What it means to truly worship Him with everything that I do, whether in word or in deed. As further proof of this, the theme of my Christian string camp this summer is "worship through the ages" and what it means to worship God with everything that you do. It's so exciting! I can't wait until God gets to the punchline!

Over and out
~H

Flash Back

2009-05-29T10:58:00.008-04:00

My word. I'm feeling old.

Friday (or Saturday if we're feeling lazy) is cleaning day. We do our respective jobs or switch off and do a different job, and normally I like to crank up some sort of working music. That's why I was in my brother's bedroom today looking at his CDs. My music had gotten boring and he normally has really rockin' music. I know, I know.

What I didn't know was that I was about to be shocked. Two from the bottom of his rack, sat a neon green on black CD. On the label was the title of the band and then the name of the CD: The Promise. I had to straighten up quickly and shout out the door, "William! You have my Plus One CD?!" I, personally, had thought that my Plus One CDs had gotten lost in the clutter of moving to this house.

Let me explain. There were five guys in this little band. It was epic. They got "New Artist of the Year" award in...are you ready for this?...2001. That's eight. EIGHT. 8. years ago. Wow. Now, if you're doing your math correctly, and you're about my age (21) you'll remember that during that time there were two bands on the "secular" music stage, N'Sync and Backstreet boys. (FLASHBACK!!!) Remember how they were so popular? Well, Christian music, which was all I listened to back then (give me a break, my parents were my music muses, and they listened to christian and classical... I was 13!), Christian music decided to copy the secular industry's boy band idea and pull together five guys for a "Christian boy band". They called the band "Plus One", as you can see by the cover on your left. Christian girls were quickly obsessed with them. Oh. Em. Gee! *cough*

Anyway.

As things would have it, I fell in love, and joined the fangirl-dom. My bestfriend Katie Beth did too. We knew all the names. Actually, from left to right on that album cover (and this is without looking them up) that's Nathan, Gabe, Jeremy, Jason, and Nate. I loved Nate...And Jason. And Katie Beth and I laughed at Gabe's hair. Enough said. We were obsessed. I had dreams about Plus One showing up and singing just for me. I memorized every single word on both their albums. (yes both their albums. They had a christmas album, but those rarely count, 'cause everyone has those.) I mourned when they broke up...or in other words, two of them left to go where God called. And now, about once a year, probably longer then that I am reintroduced to them.

As I write, I'm listening to "The Promise". It's very dated music, but I actually still like it. Sorta. Part of me can't believe I was that obsessed with them, but let's just say that my favorite concert of all time was the concert that my dad took me and Katie Beth and Grace and one of her friends to go see. The main act was Plus One. Of course.

Here's to all of you out there who have been "reintroduced" to Plus One through reading this, or finding a dusty CD somewhere in a box in your attic, or in my case, in your brother's CD rack. It's ok to let the fangirl-dom die. They are, after all, probably married and have kids now.

I'm chaotic...

2009-05-18T23:18:00.003-04:00

Derrick: do you like big band music?

Me: depends on what it is

Derrick: Glen Miller, Percy Faith Orchestra
wait PFO isn't big band

Me: not WHO... WHAT.

Derrick: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJE-onnw2gM
videos speak louder with pictures and words

Me: ok, I'll try watching that AFTER Esther

Derrick: you'll either immediately recognize it or you're officially from Mars

Me: yeah, I definitely recognize this. I've danced to this
it's a ton of fun to swing too
*to

Derrick: yeah, it reminds me of rose red

Me: huh?

Derrick: a stephen king movie

Me: oh
why?

Derrick: the movie centers around an autistic girl and that's the only song she ever listens to, it makes her happy

Me: well, it would make ME happy

Derrick: you're already happy enough
it would overstimulate you into disaster

Me: not all the time, but generally yes
I AM a disaster

Derrik: *catastrophe
sorry, typo

Me: I'm a catastrophe too!

Derrick: You can't be all forms of chaos!!!

Me: I can SO be!

Derrick: That's it! I'm sending FEMA after you
they're a-comin'
I'm listening to music from the 50's for seniors to workout to

Me: NOOO!!!! NO FEMA!!!
they're government related!
I'd rather have my community step in.

Derrick: this is an obama-nation
your government is your community

Me: O.O
I'm um...going now...

Derrick: they finally get there? Yeesh, FEMA's late for everything

Me: no, I'm NOT going with FEMA
I doubt they have the white coats to handle me

Derrick: ..........
good point

How did I get here?

2009-05-12T23:25:00.006-04:00

I know I said in my last post that family is such a strange concept, but right now, I'd like to go out on a limb and say that life is a strange concept too.

Everyone seems to have these pre-conceived notions of what life is supposed to be like. Young girls are constantly watching their mommies and thinking, "I'm gonna be just like my mommy when I grow up." For me it was, "I'm going to become a mommy. I'm going to have a passel full of kids. I'm going to have a husband who can be a daddy to my kids." As I grew up, I would look at the girls around me and compare them and where they were in their life to me and where I was in my life "plan." There were other girls, one of them my at-the-time-best-friend, who met guys they really liked and who really liked them back. They would come to me, "Oh Hana! You'll never believe!" I'd sit there and be happy for them, but I'd want the same thing. Like I've said on here before, I was in love with the idea of being in love. Well, maybe I've said that, but it's pretty certain that I've given that impression.

If you had told me when I was 16 that at 21 I would still never have been kissed, would not have a steady boyfriend, would not be engaged, and would have only dated on guy for three months, and had been the one to break it off, I would have laughed at you and then thrown myself at the nearest guy to prove you wrong.

I look at my life and I think that if God had put me in a family that public schooled, I would have been seriously rebelious. I might have even given away my virginity, if not pregnant within the first couple of years at college. It is because God was gracious enough to stick me in a family where my parents are so integral in my life that I am who I am today. Granted, I'm still nasty and ugly inside, but thank God for his graciousness, His mercy.

I never ever expected to go into music education at school, but here I am. I'm moving into my third year of music education at ASU and I'm loving it! It's not everything I'm looking for, but it'll give me a good background on what I need to know to get a small studio going. I never would have thought that I would learn guitar on getting to college ("I'm never going to play something with frets!"). I never thought I would enjoy my crazy family the way I do. I never thought that I would enjoy the frantic hecticness of coordinating two jobs during the summer. I never thought I'd have two jobs during the summer. I never in my life thought I'd be content with being single, and yet, somehow, God has brought me to that very point. Thank God.

However, it is now late, and as I said in the previous paragraph, I have two jobs. I have to coordinate them, and that is going to take someone who is awake and on her feet. I am not really that. I need sleep, so I'll sign off. Just thinking about this, the fact that life hasn't quite turned out like I thought it would, but I'm so glad it didn't. This way has been much better. I'm glad I'm not the author of my own story.

Sleep well to all! and to all a Good Night!

~H

Welcome to the nuthouse!

2009-05-04T22:28:00.003-04:00

Family is such a strange concept. Have you ever thought about it? You're born, and do you figure life out on your own? No. Instead God plops you down in this place where people not only care for you, by changing your diaper and teaching you about how to feed yourself and walk, but they also love you, no matter who you are, or how ugly you are, inside or out! These people are sometimes blood related, but other times they're not. No matter what, we'll normally drop everything to protect these people, because we know that no matter how ugly we are towards them, no matter how many times we stab them in the back, they'll still put themselves in harms way to protect us.

Sometimes you hate your family, other times you can't believe that you've had the good fortune to be related to them. Sometimes when you're with your friends, your family totally embarrasses you, but other times you can't believe that you ever thought you were embarrassed by them. I mean, duh, they're exactly like you are!

Thank God for family. Yeah, my family (according to a small plaque in a souvenir shop on the beach) is a lot like fudge: a ton of sweet with lots of nuts. :-D I'm the biggest nut of them all, and I can't wait to head for home.

Two days!

Craziness here I come!

song...aaahh!!!

2009-04-21T00:13:00.000-04:00

I <3 Jon Schmidt.

The End.

The Formative Years

2009-04-14T19:42:00.006-04:00

Lots of psychologists say that the formative years of a child's life is from ages 4 (or so) to about 12 (making a guess here). This is when they start making discoveries about themselves. This is where they discover who they are. This is when the decisions that are going to affect the rest of their life happen (most of the time... I'd like to argue that most of that actually happens in high school and college).

For some reason I think psychologists are wrong. Very wrong. I've seen my Grandpa become sweeter with age, instead of becoming an "old fart" like many people do when they get older. I have changed dramatically since I was 12, and the people who I know best have too. For example, when I was young I had a bad habit of stealing candy from my dad's tin, or reading after mom and dad turned the lights out and specifically told me to go to bed, or lying to them directly. I had heard that a child's nature/character/"who they are" is determined by the time they were 12, and as a 12-year-old, I'd lie in bed thinking, "Please God, don't let this be who I'm supposed to be. The psychologists missed one very important thing. This, I think is the fact that we are all born with one fatal disease. We are all born sinners! We are "who we are" from the moment we enter this world with the sin nature. It is only after we accept Christ that we begin to change. I'm no psychologist, but I have this theory that for Christians, our most "formative years" are the years we spend from when we first accept Christ as our savior, to when we die and have our eyes opened to everything we've ever been missing.

So, to get to my point after a very long opening. There are several years that I believe are some of my most formative. The first of them begins on January 23 of 2006. In January of '06 I was 17, and enduring high school. It had seemed like fun back when I was 14, but now all it was was work and class (online) and the occasional IM jaunt with my best friend, Katie Beth. On the 23rd, however, a person stepped into my life which changed it quite a bit. David Gardner showed up on my blog claiming that the apostle peter had told him that stalking my blog wasn't the right thing to do any more. I was kinda weirded out, but I thought it would be interesting to get to know this dude. Dave later introduced me to his brothers, Daniel and Ben Gardner. All three of them had grown up in Brazil because their parents (God bless them) were/are missionaries to the people of Brazil.

Almost exactly one month later, I joined the forum that Daniel had created, "MK Forums" which stood for "missionary kids Forums", of course. Right behind me came Katie Beth, and she persuaded several of her friends to join as well. Because I was homeschooled, and about 70% of the kids on that forum were as well, I actually felt like I fit in. I made friends right and left, never mind that I'd never met them, that they were "internet buddies". My parents complained that I was always on my computer. I felt like that was the only place I had friends, which didn't help issues. However, in this "virtual world" I grew. I knew that they were all Christians, and would tolerate my growing love for Christ, they would actually help me. There was a serious forum and the (more predominate) silly forum. My expertise for puns developed through a thread that grew out of proportion (thanks Ben!). Daniel introduced me to the world of photo-editing and short videos, and David was generally my goofy buddy. With all three boys, and the various friends I made in MK Forums, I had mostly silly talks, but also out of these friendships came deeper, more serious talks. It was "formative". I learned about myself, about others, and more importantly about God.

The second stage of my "formative" years was coming to college. Coming to college was the hardest and yet, most freeing thing I've ever done in my life. It was a step in the direction of finding out who I was/am in Christ and whether or not my faith was real. When I set foot on App's campus, I was pretty certain it was real. I wanted to be known as the "God-follower". I was naive. That was good. Find a church was the hardest thing I've ever done. It taught me that God is great, and that He'd given me a passion for showing people who He is through song, through worship. I also learned that first year that family really is important. I didn't quite realized what I was taking for granted until I didn't have it close to hand. This year I've learned all about how God is soverign. How He's the one who rescued me from a dragon. :-) Yeah, college is going to continue to be formative.

And I can't wait.

~H

Weekends

2009-03-22T22:16:00.004-04:00

There is something about a Sunday night. It's rather dubious because you are about to plunge back into the hectic craziness of the week, and yet, sometimes, if the weekend's been nice, it doesn't feel like it's really over.

On Saturday mornings I sleep in till about 9 or 10ish. There was the time when I was getting only 6 hours of sleep a night, and then Jill and I would sleep till 11 most mornings.

Normally on a Sunday morning I will read PostSecret (after going to church, so I guess it's more like noonish that I read it). I enjoy reading these simply because every sunday I can connect with a couple of them and every sunday I read a couple that I can't believe someone feels embarrassed about.

On another note, I'm in love.

With a Dodge Caliber.

Go look it up.

Wow.

May God bless your week as you plunge headlong into the mire.

To worship a God...

2009-03-03T23:58:00.005-05:00

There's something strange about the word, "crush." Many guys will shy away from a girl who has a "crush" on them, or will even turn away (it seems like it) if a girl says that she has a crush on someone. If one girl tells another girl that she has a crush on someone, the second girl will automatically squeal in a very high-pitched annoying tone that some how all of us manage to do at some point in our lives, and then automatically demand to know everything. Pushy girl. The girl with a crush, if she is 12, will think it's amazing and that she couldn't possibly fall "in love" with anyone else, ever. If the girl is 16 or 17, she will feel silly for having a crush (possibly), and feel like she's in middle school again, discovering the fact that boys really don't have cooties.

As long as I can remember, I've always been told, by my parents, to guard my heart, so that when the right guy comes along, I can give him my whole heart. When I turned 12, I had my first recorded crush. I was certain that he was the one! Since I'd been a little girl, I'd read stories of princesses and their handsome knights in shining armor who worship the ground they walk on. Somewhere in my future there was going to be a fantastic wedding, I would be the one wearing white, and at the end He would be standing there, ready to pull me into His arms, to love me for who I was. Surprisingly enough, the person I had the crush on at age 12 is Him. Every young man who was remotely good looking, or had a good disposition and manners, or even possibly liked me, was considered. I pined, I dreamed, my imagination sometimes pushing me to tears. Why didn't any of them like me?

I was 18 when a young man who had entered my life several years earlier, declared that he really liked me. Unsurprisingly enough, I really liked him back. He was cute, he was funny, that crooked smile of his charming birds out of trees, my heart from its chest, and he, at the time believed in the same God I did, and was willing to ask my dad if he could date me. He had put off telling me that he liked me and wanted to date me for a long time because he knew about my parents dislike with the word "dating" and how they would rather I "courted." Then he did something that no one else ever had: he went to my daddy and asked him for permission to date me. My parents were reluctant, and it took them a whole month to get back to him, but in the end, because of many persuasive arguments that started and ended with, "Because, I just want to date him. Do I need a reason?", they gave in and told him that we could date. It was on my 19th birthday that my daddy called him up and let him know.

I was on cloud nine for three months, during which we went on dates, held hands, went to homeschool prom, but never kissed. I told him I was saving that for the man who married me. He respected that. Towards the beginning of the third month, he called me (we had a long distance relationship) and told me that he'd realized that I was more emotionally involved then he was. He said he didn't want to break up with me because he still liked me, but that he didn't want to break my heart, because he realized that I'd given it to him. He was right. He tried to hand it back on a silver platter, the way I'd handed it to him. At the end of the third month, something wasn't right. He was distant. I knew something was wrong, but he wouldn't say anything. I had to ask him if he still liked me. When he said no, I broke up with him, and told him we could go back to being friends.

My parents were worried about me. My best friend, who had steadfastly warned me against dating him, was relieved. I was glad I hadn't had my heart broken, and proud of the fact that I'd not shed a tear over any of it. I told my mom that I didn't regret any of it, because it was a huge learning experience. I told her the truth.

At the same time, I was left with thoughts running through my head. They were the same thoughts I'd had before I had a boyfriend, but now they were intensified. "Why did he tell me he loved me one month and then not mean it the next? Is something wrong with me? Why doesn't he like me anymore? What's wrong with me?" It took my conscience probing deep, asking some questions that he didn't realize hurt, to make me realize that I was feeling these things.

I swore off boys.

The end.

Ok, not really, but I did for a while decide that the only safe place for me was a nunnery...or rather a home with the nuns. (I can't think of the word right now.) Then I stumbled across a saying, on, of all things, a facebook bumpersticker: A girl's heart should be so lost in God, that a man must seek Him to find her. That completely changed how I looked at relationships.

While I had been told all my life that Prince Charming would come (dude, Cinderella's had come hadn't he?), I had also been told that God should be the center of my life, and that he would write my love story. That's what Eric and Leslie Ludy had said! I had read the books that they had written, and come to the conclusion that if I pursued God, that if I tried to bury my heart in God's, romance would come blooming into my life, instantaneously, like those funny little sponge animals that you could buy in plastic capsuls and then drop them into a cup of water and they'd expand instantly. I was convinced that if I just found the cup of water, my romance would blossom instantly.

I'd missed the mark again. I was still focused on the word "romance." I was ready to drop everything if a guy that loved God came waltzing into my life and declared his love for me. It wasn't until last semester, a mere 3 or 4 months ago, that I realized I had a "crush" on a guy again. I hadn't had a "crush," really, since that disastrous three month relationship. I'd been denying the crush for a while, I'd been fighting, because I had told God that all I really wanted was to know Him better. I wanted to bury myself in God. In todays terms, I wanted God as my boyfriend, as my husband, my lover. Even though, I'd been doing this to subconciously to find romance, God had been faithful, and honored my feeble attempts to draw closer to Him. He wrapped me in arms as large as...well, as He is, and drawn me towards him. When, in about November, I finally admited that I liked this guy, I struggled with it for about a week because I didn't want a crush. It was a hinderence in my trying to bury myself in God. I wanted romance to hit me over the head. Then, at the end of the week, I realized that I didn't have to struggle with my "crush." I could ignore it and continue to pursue God, because, God was the creator of the "crush."

I decided to sit back and go along for the ride.

What a ride it's been. I've sat back and watched as the "crush" on this guy is put on the back burner and God has put Himself front and center in my life. Every time I approach a guy, I approach him now, with prayer, asking God to lead our relationship. It has done wonders to me and my relationship with my champion, my knight in shining armor, my savior who died for me, saving me from the jaws of the dragon.

One last thing before I sign off. In answer to the questions I asked myself before I had a boyfriend and afterwards. "Why don't they like me?" My answer is, "Who cares? If they had shown me that they actually liked me and done something about it, I wouldn't have even considered God. I would have shoved Him on the back burner and forgotten about Him. Instead, God, in His sovereignty, knew exactly what I'd need to pull me towards Him, and gave me the yearning for romance, but made sure that there was no romance in sight. Instead, He stood there, waiting patiently for me, holding in His hands a white dress that is more beautiful then anything that I could ever imagine, dressed as a groom, waiting for me, His bride. Why He would choose me, me who would easily chase after something that doesn't fulfill is beyond me, but He has. It doesn't matter whether or not the guy next to me, or the guy who I am/was "crushing" on likes me. All that matters is that He adores me. He does."

I don't want a man who worships the ground I walk on. I want to worship the God whose ground I walk on.

As I end this post, Phil Wickam is singing in the background,

For You I sing, I dance,
Rejoice in this devine Romance,
Lift my heart and my hands,
To show my love, to show my love.

Wonderful things about life

2009-03-02T22:36:00.004-05:00

One of the funniest things about snow is when it freezes.

I know, I know, you're saying, "but snow is already frozen!"

What I mean is when snow melts, runs all day, and then refreezes at night, on black top, creating black ice.

It's hazardous to the health, your tailbone and anything that might hit the ground when you realize it's there.

It's hilarious when there are four girls in front of you who discover the black ice first. There they are walking along nice and quiet like, and then suddenly they're slipping everywhere and shrieking and grabbing onto each other.

Makes one want to laugh and take to the snow that hasn't melted and refrozen. That's exactly what I did. Go me.

Mondays

2009-02-16T23:21:00.004-05:00

Mondays. They hurt. Like HECK they hurt! But then, when does a day not go by when something doesn't hurt in some respect. It's like the weight of my world is hurled at me all on one day. w00t! Yay for six classes and a lab on Mondays.

Besides this I've discovered that friends are a blessing. Normally on Mondays I go to classes at 9, 10, and 11, and at 12 I hurry on over to the student union to eat lunch with my friends from RUF. Today, I didn't have time. I had to hurry on over to the closer cafeteria, Trivette, and eat there, by myself. The whole time, I thought about my friends and wondered what was going on there without me, and if they were saying, "It's monday, I wonder why Hana hasn't shown up." I'm pretty certain they did say any such thing, but I missed them nevertheless.

Yes, I know I'm attached.

No, I don't care.

Ok, so maybe I do, but do I care about what's right?

Anyway, in celebration of mondays, I post a monday story that I created a while ago when I was obsessed with de ja vu-like dreams. :)

Everyone says that Mondays are horrible. They have a right to, I guess, but what is this right? Why do people despise the beginning of a week so terribly? What has Monday done to you? Not many people know the answer to this, other then the fact that they have to get up and go to work. Or they have to do some other nasty thing on a Monday.

For Josh Bennet, Mondays were especially trying. He never could get the hang of Mondays, the same way Arthur Dent could not get the hang of Thursdays.

This particular Monday morning was something to behold. After accidentally sleeping in and through his alarm clock's warnings, Josh found him self being dragged out of bed. He wasn't entirely sure just who was dragging him from his bed, but he didn't like it.

His sleep had been wonderful and he'd been having the nicest dream, though the fact that he'd been dreaming about pink bunny slippers and green people with gills, will leave some people wondering at his sanity.

As he grasped at his bed sheets, his mind grasped at something else. It was an important day. Or something of that nature. At least he thought it was an important day, but the way he had been dreaming left him wondering if he was correct.

As what-ever-it-was dragged him out of bed, his brain grasped at every possible reason for this rude awakening and when it flitted past the fact that he vaguely remembered his alarm clock ringing he let go of the sheets he was holding so tightly onto suddenly and promptly found himself on the floor, eyes wide open and his hair, which was long and rather curly, flying wildly about his head.

"Crap!" he said suddenly and without much brilliance as he stared up into the face of his older brother.

"Come on, lazy lump!" his brother snarled. "It's way past due for you to get up!"

"What time is it?" Josh asked, afraid of the answer.

"Almost eight o'clock."

"Crap!!" Josh said with even more urgency as his brain scrambled to figure out why eight o'clock was so dreadfully important. When it lighted upon an appointment at eight thirty with his new boss, his body took control and he scrambled to his feet. "I gotta get ready!" he said, flying about his room, grabbing miscellaneous socks, a shirt, a pair of pants and several other articles of clothing before he raced out of his room to the bathroom down the hall, his brother looking on very amusedly.

Ten minutes later he sat in his car, slamming his fist on the dashboard. It wouldn't start. Some genius had left the car door open a crack and the lights had drained the battery.

His hair, still a wild mess, Josh pulled out his cell phone and slowly dialed the number his boss had given him.

"Hello?" sounded his boss's voice on the other end.

"Hi, Adam, it's Josh."

"Oh hey, Josh, what's up?"

"I won't be able to make it to the appointment today. I slept right through my alarm...either that, or it never went off, and then when I got out to my car just now, it won't start. My brother woke me up before he left for work, so I have no one to jump start the car because all the neighbors are gone too."

"Oh, well, you realize that your keeping your job depended on this meeting."

"Yes, sir, I understand that sir, but there's really nothing I can do."

"Well, I'm sorry for you Josh, you looked like you'd fill this role really well. I'll possibly see you later."

"Ok." Josh heaved a sigh as the other end of the line hung up.

There went his job. He'd have to remember to murder the genius who used his car last and left the door open. Oh wait... After realizing the implications of that, he quickly abandoned them. Maybe he could just maim his alarm clock instead.

That sounded like a better idea.

As he climbed the stairs to his empty apartment again, his feet dragging, whatever it was that was biting him in the rear today, dumped another truck load on his head. Or his feet, as it turns out.

He tripped.

Yes, dear reader, he fell up the stairs.

Because he wasn't expecting this and his mind was elsewhere, his hands came out at the last minute. Despite this, his forehead hit the hard metal edge of the step and his fingers screamed as they suddenly found themselves recipients of a rather large weight.

As Josh scrambled up, holding his head, he continued on his way to his room, only to realize that his shins hurt too. Curses. This Monday was not happening the way he wanted it to, but then when did Mondays or any days of the week ever listen to him?

When he finally got to his apartment, he dug about for his keys and inserted them in the door, the neighbor's dog setting up a din. Drat the dog. He set his keys down upon the entrance table and shrugged out of his coat, only to find that he'd had something smeared on his hand, and because of that, on his coat.

He looked up to see that his forehead was bleeding--quite freely.

Twenty minutes later found him slumped on the sofa, bandaged forehead, ice on his shins, watching some stupid TV program. He'd tried to make soup, some of the stuff in a cup that you simply warm up, but had managed to heat it so much that when he went to sip it, he burnt his tongue.

He'd changed out of his appointment clothes for something better suited to moping around the house and that's where twenty minutes later found him. That's also when his doorbell rang.

He rose stiffly and shuffled his way to his door. He peered out the peephole before deciding that the disfigured figure outside his hole was probably his girlfriend. He could use some cheering up. He opened the door and grinned widely down at her.

"Hi Jade!"

"Josh..." she trailed off, oblivious to his bandaged forehead.

"Come in won't you?" he said gesturing behind him.

"I can't." She said, sounding desperate. "I have to tell you something Josh. I have to end our relationship. It's not going anywhere. I've had enough."

Comprehension came slowly to our thick witted friend as Jade desperately raced through her speech. She didn't love him anymore. Heck, she hadn't felt anything for him for quite a while, but had been desperately hoping that she was wrong. But now she had decided that she really didn't feel anything, so it was time to break things off.

"You're...you're breaking up...with me?" Josh asked her breaking into her long winded speech.

"Yes, Josh, who else?" she asked, looking everywhere but at him.

Josh leaned heavily on the door frame. He never could get the hang of Mondays.

"So...I guess I'll see you around..." Jade trailed off again and then without looking at him, turned and walked towards the elevator.

"You...you might want to take the stairs," Josh called after her. "The elevator takes the longest time." He took a step into the hall as a bright idea struck him. "Please tell me this is an "any-day-but-April-fools-day" joke!" He called as she pushed the button for the elevator.

Jade looked at him and then up at the light that indicated the elevator was there that wasn't on and then at the stairwell. Without answering him, she headed for the stairwell and out of his life.

Lovely.

Josh headed back into his apartment and back to his seat on the couch. He couldn't pay attention to the TV any longer. He needed sleep. Maybe he could wake up and it would all be a bad dream. Vaguely thoughts of green people with gills flitted through his head. He shuddered and then wondered at his sanity.

With the frailty of a man twice or three times Josh's age, he heaved himself out of his couch and headed for his bedroom. Sleep. Yes. Sleep. That would make things all better.

The next thing Josh knew, he found him self being dragged out of bed. He wasn't entirely sure just who was dragging him from his bed, but he didn't like it. And the vicious cycle starts all over again...

Mondays are like this, he thought sleepily to himself just as his brain registered the fact that he'd been dreaming of sleeping through his alarm clock and probably had.

The end

x or o?

2009-02-14T23:59:00.002-05:00

Oh the irony of finding the words "You huggable you" in a chocolate kiss today.

Amazing Insecurites

2009-02-12T00:06:00.007-05:00

It's kinda odd how life works. I think God was confirming that it was okay to be content with my insecurities. Sunday morning, after I wrote that last blog, my pastor talked basically about loving people.

I was all concerned about what people thought of me, and as a girl, I'm concerned, worried about how guys view me. People have said that, in order to be lovable, you need to love. Pastor Berry said something similar, yet more profound on Sunday. His basic point was that my ability to truly love, depends on how dependent I am on God. If I combine both ideas, in order to be lovable, I need to love, and in order to love, I need to be completely dependent on God. I need to constantly remember how Jesus loved me, and that God provides for my every need. If I try to love people, I'm only human. I will fail to love people unless I love with the love that God gives me. God's love is infinite, and as I am filled up with His love, I am filled up to love others. As God pours into me, I can pour into others.

My insecurities are amazingly helpful in this too. The reason is because when I realize that I'm not right, when I'm not perfect, I can realize that He is right and perfect, and that He is the one that I am representing. The fact that God chooses to use broken, insecure people to show His glory among the world, the sinner reaching out to the sinner, saying, "I might be insecure about myself, I might not like myself very much, I might think I'm not great, but God, He's--He's, like, WOW. He's powerful and mighty and He loves me, even if I don't love myself, and He thinks I'm great because His son died for me! DIED for ME! Me who decided before I was born that He wasn't worth my time. Me who killed him through my sin. He died for ME. God's amazing."

Thank God for His mercy and grace, because I don't have much or any of it.

Shocking Revelation

2009-02-07T19:00:00.004-05:00

It's probably a good thing that so few people read this, because today I had an amazing revelation. If you're sure you want to read on, please do so, but for those who aren't sure where their hearts lie, it might be a good thing to go back to wherever you came from and not bother your heads about it any more. Now for the revelation.

The truth is, I discovered today, almost for the first time, that I am incredibly insecure.

I'm not so insecure when I look at the way I interact with people on a day to day basis, but when it comes especially to guys, I'm highly insecure. I look at the guys around me and think, they can't possibly look at me that way.

Part of me though, after today, and all the glorious weather (it's amazing what a sunny day can do to a person) and hanging out with friends is ok with this. It doesn't bother me terribly, this realization that I'm really insecure, but it doesn't make me happy either. Sure, I wish guys would be good at telling a girl they like that she's pretty. Sure I wish I had a guy who looked at me like that. Will I ever? Probably not. I can, however, do my best to make others feel special and loved. I guess that's what friends are for.

In like a Lion...

2009-01-19T14:47:00.011-05:00

With January, blew in the new year, a cold front of massive proportions, new classes, some new faces, some old faces gone, a new president, and a partially new out look on life.

As I sit here, it snows outside. It's been snowing, bit by little bit, since yesterday afternoon, at least. It is alternately very snowy, or almost not at all snowy. I love it. Thank you cold front. There is something about the cold that simply makes me want to dance. It's cold, it's wild, it brings newness, in the form of an all-covering blanket of white, with it sometimes, and here in the mountains, it brings even colder wind gusts. As odd as that last thing seems, I do love it. I love the wind here. It is wild. It doesn't give you any pretense that you could possibly control it.

Have you entered the storehouses of the
snow,
or have you seen the storehouses of
the hail,
which I have reserved for the time of
trouble,
for the day of battle and war?
What is the way to the place where the
light is distributed,
or where the east wind is scattered
upon the earth?

Job 38: 22-24

It makes me feel small. It's an uncomfortable feeling, and yet one with amazing freedom.

It's like a match being lit,
or the sinking of a ship,
letting go gives you better grip.

David Crowder, Foreverandever

My new classes are something else all together. As I live through each semester, each semester becomes harder, more challenging and yet more satisfying as I complete them. It is satisfying to realize that I'm starting to understand Music Theory finally. My professor mentioned in one of the first days of class that a male mosquito's wings hum at about the pitch of a very high D. A female mosquito's wings will hover at a perfect 5th below that. A perfect 5th is the most perfect interval in music, the vibrations of the notes themselves, locking into place, so, if you know what you're listening for, you can tell instantly what it sounds like. The female mosquito and the male mosquito will not mate until they find another mosquito, one whose wings hum in a perfect 5th to theirs, their perfect mate. I've been struggling to understand music theory for three, going on four semesters now, and mosquitoes have it built into them by the God of the Universe.

With every new semester comes new faces. There are new residents on my hall, new people in my classes, new faces at RUF, babies just born, or pregnancies just discovered. Life buzzes all around.

A friend of mine died last year. Another friend of mine is now in Alaska. Yet another friend is no longer on campus, because she's off doing student teaching.

For the first time in the history of the United States we are about to have a black president. It's "history in the making" they say. I say, while this president is looked on as the salvation of the people, the one who is going to restore the economy, people are getting their hopes up for nothing. Change doesn't come in four years. It can start but it doesn't finish. Oh, and ever presidential election is "history in the making." Get a life people.

And everything up above, is my partially new outlook on life. The world might be going crazy, it might be getting better, but anything that is happening is happening for a reason. Who's to worry about what we can't control. Like David Crowder said above, maybe we just have to let go to get a better grasp on things.

Four-year-old on the loose

2009-01-08T22:20:00.003-05:00

One picture I wish to keep in my mind with me always is the picture of Lily Ava's grubby little four-year-old (today!) hands looking for flowers for Mommy. It was positively precious.

Because today was Lily Ava's birthday, I some how ended up with Lily Ava in the back seat of my car as I drove to the nearest craft store, looking, not only for a little something for Lily Ava, but for a gift for Mary Asta, because I won't be here for her birthday.

Upon getting there, the fake flowers were the first thing both of us saw. I love fake flowers, and if I could, I'd probably have lots of vases of them everywhere during the winter. Lily Ava seemed to have the same thoughts, though of a particular flower, or bunch of flowers.

She immediately trundled up to them and declared, patting them, "I want for Mommy."

Just a little bit touched, I said, "Well, we'll see. Maybe when we come back this way."

She understood.

We skipped (literally) through the rest of the store, looking for things. We ran to the bathroom, because for once, the older sister needed to go, and not the younger one. We trotted back to the kids craft section and sang "We're following the leader" from Disney's Peter Pan.

Lily Ava version: "We'ewe following da leadew, da leadew, da leadew..."

There were many exclamations of, "I wan' buy dis for Asta. (Mary Asta)" and simply, "I wan' dis." She went gung-ho with my idea of a paint-by-number kit that had three paint-by-numbers in it. She would have gone gung-ho if I'd suggested getting Mary Asta a set of Transformer Legos (if they make those).

On our way back to the front of the store, I told her to go find the flowers. She found them, pretty much on her own, and buzzed right through every type of flower, until she'd found the ones she saw when we first came in. She wanted just those, none other.

When I asked her which colors she wanted, she grabbed a handful of the pale blue blossoms, not even thinking that they might be in bunches. I had to help. After seeing the bunches, she was a bit more careful. I held the pale blue, and then a darker blue, and then a pink, and then a mauve color as she reached for bunch after bunch, determined to find the best for Mommy. I finally had to limit it to four different types. Then I pointed out that she had two blue types, and did she want to find a different color, a color other then blue. For a four-year-old, she was sharp. She pulled the pale blue out of my hands and put it back, before reaching for a pale peach bunch. She was certain that she wanted all of those flowers for Mommy.

We went to the cash register. She carried the flowers. She proudly stuck them on the counter and grasped the counter staring at the flowers and the woman checking us out as if to make sure that it was all done properly.

After all was said and done, she carried the flowers (in her own baggy that the lady gave her) out to the car, into the car, on the way home, out of the car, and then finally into the house, where she proudly presented them to Mom.

"We bot dees." She proclaimed, holding them out to Mom, while standing on a bench so she could see Mom's face better.

"How pretty!" My mother exclaimed. "For your birthday?"

"No." Lily Ava was emphatic. "Der for you."

Eventually Mom understood. They now sit proudly in a vase in our downstairs guest bathroom, making it just a little friendlier down there.

Oh to have the determination and simple love of a four-year-old.

You think YOU'RE lazy?

2009-01-03T20:48:00.003-05:00

A conversation via Google talk, Mom had with me while I was sitting at my computer upstairs.

Mom: Hana, could you please call Daddy and ask him to get on google talk, or come up here?
Thanks

Hana: ROFL
ok

Mom: what are you ROFLing about?

Hana: oh the irony
you IM me to ask me to call Dad

Mom: at least you didn't call me lazy.

Hana: ROFL
I'm calling home
don't pick up

Mom: do you think he'll answer?

Hana: possibly
congrats you two...Mom is officially now lazier then Dad...

He picked up. He came upstairs. It was epic.

Tradition!

2008-12-26T23:51:00.003-05:00

There are Christmas traditions, and then there are Christmas Traditions.

Of all the traditions I've heard about, from putting out milk and cookies for Santa, to observing the twelve days of Christmas, I think, possibly that my family's traditions are the most eclectic.

It all starts on Christmas Eve. This year all my little sisters could think of was Christmas Eve. This Christmas Eve, at 8am both of my little sisters were running up and down the hall screaming, "Merry Christmas!" (from Mary Asta) and "Mewwy Chistmas!!" (from Lily Ava). As Lily Ava followed me down the stairs to breakfast she shouted "Mewwy Chistmas!" and being the benevolent older sister I am, I reminded her, "It's Christmas Eve, Lily Ava." She corrected herself. "Mewwy Chistmas Eve! Ho ho ho!"

The reason for their excitement is because, according to Norweigan Tradition, our family opens presents under the tree on Christmas Eve night. We open our stockings that Santa has filled on Christmas morning. It's tradition. On Christmas Eve night, we go to the Christmas Eve service and then come home have dessert, and after dessert, we all gather around the piano (which is preferably close to the Christmas Tree) and according to tradition we sing several Christmas Carols. We gather with hymn books that my mom has collected and we sing. It's torture. There are presents under the tree that are just begging to be opened. We finally sit down and open the presents. It's fun.

Christmas morning, Santa (or Daddy) has put out and filled our stockings. Normally we have lots weird stocking stuffers. Enough said.

That's not the only weird thing. Our food is kinda funny too. We have fish for Christmas Eve dinner. For Christmas Eve dinner, we start with dessert. We normally have dinner right about 2, 2:30 pm. We start with rice pudding. If you find an Almond in yours, you get a candy pig. It's wonderful. Then we have fish. Normally some Norwegian type. It's really rather interesting. Yay Fish.

Now it's your turn. What are your weird Christmas traditions? Can you beat mine?

Merry Christmas!
Hana

Of Mayhem, Mutiny and Mondays-that-could-be-better

2008-12-23T21:34:00.003-05:00

I've had enough.

These past two days are enough to make me want to retire from the world. I'll live in my own little world. It's ok, I know they'll like me there.

Yesterday was amazing. If you've ever wondered what a Monday is supposed to be like, well, read this and you'll soon know what.

Plane tickets. All I can say is be careful whose name they're in. They're a pain. I had to spend lots of money. Yay. This was before 10am.

After 10am, I felt ready to go back to bed. Our family cars are on the fritz, and never more so then yesterday. It was one string of bad news after the other, it seemed, right up until about 12 noon. And after that it started looking up.

The entire day I felt like my eyelids were going to close on me for good.

Then today, I got up at 4:40 am to work from 5:15 till 12 noon.

I'm a lifeguard. There is this thing called a drop test. The insurance agency we've hired requires these. They're stupid. A lap swimmer drops a flag in the water, surreptitiously. The lifeguard on the stand has 10 seconds to spot it, and 10 seconds to retrieve it. Only one person has passed it. We're supposed to do it every day. After the first five or six days, no one could find the stupid flags. I found them this morning. We have splash buckets in the play pool that are about 7 feet off the bottom of the pool. They fill with water and overturn on the little tykes. Someone had hidden the flags in the splash buckets. They all fell out when I turned the buckets on. One of them got stuck. We hid them again. Elsewhere. Yes, it's insubordination. Yes, it's mutiny.

Yes, my week will be and IS full of Mayhem.

Merry Christmas!

Freedom?

2008-12-08T09:34:00.003-05:00

I've now gone three whole days without a splint on my middle finger. The feeling is glorious, the freedom amazing, the pain--not so much. While the bone is healed, the jam is not. Yay 6 week splint. Good new, I can play instruments. Bad news, I still feel like my finger's going to give out on me and twinge unpleasantly at any moment. Oh well. How do the french say it? Oh yeah. C'est la vie! Such is life.

Poem addition

2008-12-05T10:43:00.003-05:00

You remember the short, silly poem I posted about two down? Yeah, so I scribbled that on the desk I was sitting in. I came back on Thursday and lo and behold, someone had added to it! I was shocked! I added another verse to theirs. So far, we have three verses down.

The hair of my true love is green.
The skin of my true love is blue.
The lips of my true love are bright cherry red,
Altogether a really great hue!

The toes of my true love are thirteen.
The fingers of my true love are nine.
And if asked what my true love looked like,
I'd reply that they simply look fine.

The ears of my true love are round.
The eyes of my true love are gold.
The arms of my true love are pretty and strong,
The strength of them yet still untold.

I knew it!

2008-11-29T22:33:00.001-05:00

Subject line of mail in my spam box: You're not crazy, everything's really FREE!!!

4 lines, 3 colors

2008-11-24T21:27:00.002-05:00

The hair of my true love is green.
The skin of my true love is blue.
The lips of my true love are bright cherry red.
Altogether a great, brilliant hue!

if you're wondering, I scribbled this on the desk I sit in for English. Hopefully the person who sits there next will be sufficiently weirded out.

EEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

2008-11-17T23:50:00.001-05:00

Thought for the day:

The world is right, when snow makes it white.

Needless to say.... "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!"

We have about half an inch on the ground already, and it's supposed to snow more tonight and tomorrow and then thursday and friday. I'm stoked. I feel like a little kid again.

tagged...

2008-10-25T22:49:00.002-04:00

Flame tagged me. Six random things about myself. w00t.

1. I jammed my finger on the fifth attempt to catch it. I'd caught it all four previous times. I'm now on a type of "bedrest" from violin and all musical instruments besides the radio.

2. Boone's weather has suddenly gotten colder and blustery-er and I've suddenly gotten more cheerful.

3. I keep spacing out, and I really don't have any reason to.

4. The eyelashes on my right eye are shorter/more stunted in growth then the eyelashes on my left eye because of a habit I've had since I was a baby.

5. I hate writers block.

6. I wish this number was seven. I like the number seven better then six.

I only have four people who read this blog...and they've all been tagged before. Sooo, I tag anyone who decides to read this blog. :)

Musings #2

2008-10-22T09:09:00.002-04:00

Recently, my fall break decided to spring itself upon me. Or rather, fall upon me. Spring break springs upon me. My bad. There was a moment there where I was unsure if it would be a good fall break, but like all breaks, this one was rather nice. Having two little adoring sisters at home helps.

I spent a lot of time driving here and there and everywhere. I spent a teensy bit of time with just about everyone. Except for Grace, that is. Grace I spent the most time with, simply because we were in the car for six hours together, at least. I'm shocked she didn't comment more on my driving. You shouldn't either.

Over fall break, I tried vainly to pick up New Moon, by Stephanie Meyer, for those of you who are constantly stuck in the closet. It's not the first time I've read it. In fact, it's the third. I own all four books, and can pick them up at leisure. I had just finished Twilight for the third time and decided that picking up New Moon (because that's the next book) wouldn't be a bad thing. I read maybe two chapters. All of them during the depressing part of the book. Now, you're going to think that I'm a little crazy, but I, and I think every girl that has had a relationship that didn't work (doesn't have to be with a boyfriend), can relate to Bella during this book. The feelings of inadequacy. Knowing that maybe if you'd been more interesting or beautiful or something maybe it would have worked. Stephanie Meyer makes the ending beautiful, telling the readers that Edward telling Bella that he didn't want her was "the blackest kind of hypocrisy." I love it.

Needless to say, I've been getting increasingly excited over Twilight, the books and the movie. My only hope is that the movie actually does it justice. I've read a lot of interviews where the actors say that they think the movie does do it justice, but I almost doubt that. Eh, call me a sceptic.

Look at that, I've managed to tangent. I didn't think this post was going to be about twilight, or that it wasn't going to be all about fall break. huh. Well, make the best of it. If you will, I will. Good think I waited till the last sentence to think up a title for this post.

Intrusion

2008-10-09T13:30:00.002-04:00

Yesterday my world imploded on me. Or rather just my emotions. You could also call it a massive failure in bottling. It's probably wrong of me to look at an implosion of emotion as intrusive, but I do, and I hate crying for that reason. Sure, I'm all for the lovey-dovey emotions of romance, but when it comes to sorrow and crying, I can't stand it. Maybe because one is sad, the other is happy. You tell me. All I know is that the friends who came along side me in prayer yesterday and offered hugs were not intrusive in the very least! It was exactly the thing I needed. This makes me come away saying "I love my friends". :)

Thank God for people he places in your life, because you don't know how long any of you is going to be around. These people are precious because you have time with them. That's not something we often think about. Shame on us.

First Musing

2008-10-07T19:32:00.002-04:00

Is there anything I can say here? I've been giving the urge to write, but I really don't know what I'd say. Yes, I know how to blog. Yes, I've blogged before. This is merely my first time blogging here. I have trouble thinking. Lots of trouble deciding if my words need to be written down. Then I remember that if I don't write my words down, some day I will forget them. I don't want to forget, though it might be easier. Who knows. You tell me.