Yesterday was rain, and today is snow. Living in the midwest is an adventure! I love it! Secretly, I have been wishing that it would snow, and as much as I enjoyed the rain last night, I couldn't help but wonder where the snow was. It was creating suspense, that tricksy snow. But it has officially come and gone, and we have nothing to say for it, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
Today I was able to spend a lot of time reading and writing and visiting with friends, and just catching up on fun stuff. My mom started decorating the house with Christmas decorations, and everything looks so great. She only keeps the stuff that has meaning over time, so there are little sock snowmen, a life of Jesus wreath that she made when I was like 13, and things given to us by people that we love & that love us. We laugh because our Christmas decorations look like they have been fighting in their boxes when they aren't on display. I gave her this giant bell last year, and I laughed when I saw it again because I have no idea what I was thinking. My MeeMaw's nativity set is on our piano, and the tree looks wonderful. Today is the last day of November. I officially feel like time is flying by.
Time is seriously something I've always been fascinated by...it's something that we need to be cognizant of at all times. I mean, in one minute, it's December. Every day is meaningful. There isn't ever "just another day" or "get me through this Monday" - every day is important and valued and bought with a high price. My friend said tonight, "You know, within each day we can find rest, almost like a little mini-vacation." I know that life isn't "normal" for me right now, but she was right. Even when I head back into full-time work, we can find rest and peace and joy within every day. The view can always be beautiful; it's how we look at it. Dancing to "Love Like Woe" with two casts on my legs? Pearls.
See dance here:
Having my mom talk about my poop while we're taping this silly thing? Hmmm...Amethyst. Watching a super-cheesy movie with said friend and my sisters? Sapphires. Another two months with my family? Rubies. Having a warm bed to sleep in tonight? Diamonds. Blankets with which to cover up with? Canary diamonds.
I never would have planned this for my life. Have I said that before? I never in a million years would have volunteered myself for two broken facilities on my body, but God has richly blessed me with more than I could have imagined on this journey. I am not even kidding when I say I would be a thousandaire if I had a dollar for all of the ways that I have seen God work in and around me in the last month. It has honestly been thousands. His grace is enough. I mean, it was a month ago today that I was coming home from the hospital, and here I am now, nearly pain-free, alert, dancing stupidly in my bed, surrounded by amazing people, my family upstairs, and one of my closest friends on my couch, and two months away from the possibility of walking. Yesterday's intense rain is today's beautiful snow - light, floating, gentle.
It's more than I could ever have imagined. Broken legs redeemed as a blessing. God is good to me. I don't deserve him. The verse that comes to mind when I share this is from Ephesians.
The book of Ephesians was written by Paul to the church in Ephesus. I love this letter. I love it so so much. I wish that you and I could sit down right now at this moment and drink white peach tea in over-sized mugs and discuss the book of Ephesians. It is packed with so many gems, ones that I haven't even found yet which, I think, is why I'm so captivated by the writing. I first started learning about Ephesians about a decade ago, a couple of years after I had become a Christ-follower. My pastor, Zack, used verses 20 and 21 below to cast vision into a sea of people called Faith Church, and I remember being deeply impacted by it at such a young age. My dad obviously was too because he decided he was going to sacrifice his vocation and comfort for a position in ministry, but that's another story. The verse was like my family's send-off verse, like a strong bell prophesying into the future. It rang so true. Here's chapter three, 20 & 21:
"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen"
I feel like this verse is so appropriate for today, one month that I found myself traveling home from an experience that would alter the way I live my life. Paul is talking to the church of Ephesus about how he doesn't want them to be discouraged by his sufferings. In jail, he calls himself a "prisoner of Christ." I love that. I am a prisoner of Christ, but I'm free. He speaks to God's grace, and how his mystery is made known in Jesus. Being part of a body of Christ-followers is where this mystery is supposed to be revealed, with the Holy Spirit leading the way. Here's the verse in more context:
For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.
Do you see what I mean about gems? I pray that you can see them, sparkling and shining into your life.
I could spend half an hour highlighting and explaining why I am so in love with this passage. I'm not joking when I say I want to sit down with tea and study it with you! We'd rip this bag wide open, spilling jewels everywhere, right? I mean, I'm talking manuscripting, baby. InterVarsity style.
For me it's that I can't wait to kneel before my Father each day because the highest place in the world is at his feet. I have seen his glorious riches, and they have strengthened me on my life journey. I have seen his Spirit move, and felt it in my inner being, in deeper places than I was willing to go. I have seen the change in my life because Christ dwells in it. I so long to have deep, solid roots that grow into rich soil called love. I long to be together with God's people. I will never grasp how wide and long and high and deep Christ's love it, but I will dive into that pool and swim ferociously for the rest of my life. He deserves at least that. And I love it that while I'm swimming in that wondrous pool, he's splashing right beside me.
Even more than I can imagine. He is able to do even more. To him be glory in the church, and in Christ through all generations, forever and ever and ever and ever! Amen!
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Rain.
Today's rain was so beautiful to me. I just laid in my car for half an hour soaking up the noise around me. It was like a blanket of peace intertwined in my legs, and surrounding my body. There is nothing like the smell of a rainy day. I'm so thankful that my hearing and smelling and tasting receptors are intact. I'm lucky I didn't bite my tongue off or jam anything up my nose on my way down when I fell. Something else to be thankful for.
I had such a fun day today. It was refreshing after a rough patch of days. Mondays are always fun because it is my dad's day off, and so we celebrate with things like going out to eat (nothing fancy - just like Taco Bell's tostadas or something fun and cheap), or going to a store, or getting hot chocolate from Starbucks. Or, in his case working on the house. Fun, fun, fun! He built my ramp on a Monday, and installed the guard rails on a Monday, and tries to get the honey-do stuff done on a Monday. Today he went shopping with my mom and I all day. On a Monday. He's a good man. Having four daughters is a hefty responsibility, and he handles it well. He has to go shopping a lot. Or wait in the car. Pretty sure he never would have imagined it that way, but he takes it all in stride. He sometimes likes shopping...I don't know if he'll admit it. : )
Anyway, we spent a large majority of the day at the mall nearby my house. Strolling and rolling around - it was super. I'm getting more and more used to people staring at me, and I've gotten to the point where I just pretend like I don't see people gawking (and I mean gawking) at me so they can stare freely, and try to figure out why the heck a chick is in a wheelchair being wheeled around with both legs straight up in the air. Guess away, my friends, guess away. It sounds like a really fun game.
The sweetest old lady came up to us while the three of us were sharing our Chinese food plate, and started talking to us about Jesus. It was so fast, one second she was asking me what happened to my legs, and then the next second she was telling us about how we needed Jesus in our live - she started sharing the gospel (a short description of Jesus' life, how it applies to our lives, and how we respond as human beings. The gospel is the hope that is found in Jesus. In case you didn't know. Like me. : ) It was a crazy encounter! Her name was Rosita. She smelled so good; like roses with a hint of sweet grandma. Anyway, I love listening to peoples' stories, and we definitely got to hear some of her life story. Most definitely. My parents and I prayed with her & went on our way.
One thing I noticed though is how much differently she presented the gospel than I do. She kept saying (and I really should say yelling) things like "You're going to hell without Jesus", or "separation for eternity from Him".
As a human being, I don't like hearing those words. As a Christian, I read them, and I still don't like them. The truth of the matter is that what she was saying is actually something that Jesus talked about in the Bible. Jesus only spoke truth, and sometimes he said some harsh things - he claimed to be the only way to heaven. I came across a verse today, and it kind of put things in perspective for me. (I have had a lot of things put into perspective for me in the last weeks, but it continues even still. I guess life truly is a life-long journey. : )
Jesus is talking to his disciples (in Mark 13, Mark being the disciple), and he's telling them that they are going to be beaten, flogged, hated, and killed because they associated themselves with Him. I mean, I'm sorry, but I may have just quietly tip-toed away at that point in the conversation. Like, "whistle whistle whistle...GONE." No one would have had time to say, "Where's Catie?", (which they often do...) I can see me now...sneaking around buildings, Mission Impossible style, unattaching myself from narrowing eyes. I mean, come on. Flogging? Death? But the disciples were so enthralled by Jesus that they stayed. He. Was worth it. I mean, I'm sure their knees were shaking, and their heads were spinning (and mine would have been too), but they stayed! It really says something about Jesus, doesn't it? These were smart people, and yet they were drawn to Jesus in such unimaginable ways. I am too.
Jesus then warns them that people are going to lie about the Messiah, but that they should remember what they have seen (and some of them even go on to write down those things they have seen.) Then he gets to a part about a tree. I just love trees. Soooo...Mark 13:28-37:
“Now learn this lesson from the fig tree: As soon as its twigs get tender and its leaves come out, you know that summer is near." (Unless strange weather patterns keep them blooming so that their leaves are coming out in November too...ha ha just kidding. Catie commentary ending now.) "Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that it is near, right at the door. Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away. ...It’s like a man going away: He leaves his house and puts his servants in charge, each with their assigned task, and tells the one at the door to keep watch. Therefore keep watch because you do not know when the owner of the house will come back—whether in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or at dawn. If he comes suddenly, do not let him find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to everyone: ‘Watch!'”
This is an intense verse. There's even...an exclamation point! It made me think of my intense Rosita encounter. I do not like to think about dying or passing away, and yet my very life could have been taken from me. I'm certainly thinking about it now! I think it is important to reflect upon the fact that our lives are but a mist, a vapor in the wind. We are so finite in the grand scheme of things, and I think we too easily get caught up in our own universes. We grow arrogant, and self-righteous because we forget these truths.
I mean, seriously, every year I'm disgusted by reports of people being trampled because others are so focused on what they want. For things that will be old news the following year, but who thinks of that when you're in the front of the line at Target because you've been waiting since 12:00am Central Time, and you really really really want that new T.V.! Did you know that someone died on Black Friday last year!? I've stopped going out on BF because it disgusts me. I'm not judging all people that do; some people do it and have a sense of contentment deep down in their souls. Even if they don't get that thing, they'll be ok, and you know, they might just let that jerk cut them in line. GASP! It's so easy though, isn't it? To get so caught up in the go go go mantra of our culture. I do. Get get get. More more more. You must must must have this this this. It's never-ever ending. And it's always so enticing, so delicious, but always so illusive. We never. seem. to. have. enough.
One of my favorite lines in that passage is this one:
"Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away."
How much more important do Jesus' words become in that moment? The real question is: do we believe those words? Are they really true? Some of you may just stop reading here because you don't believe that Jesus was real, or that he existed. Some may disagree that Jesus was God; maybe you think he was a great prophet. Others might say that he was a great person, a figure to aspire to be like in life. Still others say that he was a crazy-head who was overly involved in politics, or that he had an affair with Mary Magdalene. I don't know what you believe, and I don't know what you know of this Jesus.
What I believe and know is that the very Jesus talking in this verse, and all the others in the New Testament is the Jesus has changed my life. He has transformed my heart into what it is today, from a very self-focused, self-absorbed, self-appreciating, prideful, angry, and often unkind girl into someone who longs to made into his likeness: other-focused, enemy-loving, always kind, truthful at all times, patient to the point of blood boiling temperatures. Vulnerable. Meek. Lowly. Forgiving. He continues to transform my hear each day. I need him because he is the source of the things. The Source of Life. I believe that he was the Son of God, not because I like fairy tales, but because I believe the things I read in the Bible; he claimed to be the Son of God, and that's why I believe he is. And the people that followed him were not brainwashed - they were educated, smart people, some were even leaders in their day. I may be brainwashed & a little loopy, so you better be careful, eh? ; ) These people testify to this Jesus. And, like Rosita was saying, if we reject this gospel, one of peace, but one of great commitment & cost, we spend forever separated from this same Jesus.
So when I was listening to Rosita today, the question I found myself asking was, what is the truth?
C.S. Lewis once said that we could believe that Jesus was one of three things: a liar, a lunatic, or lord. What is the truth? You have to pick one. So, on this rainy day, I thought of another song, and it's my prayer for you and for me.
(chunks from) Rain Down by Delirious:
Looks like tonight, the sky is heavy, feels like the winds are gonna change.
Beneath my feet, the earth is ready, its time for heaven's rain.
Chorus:
Because it's living water we desire, to flood our hearts with holy fire.
Rain down all around the world we're singing;
Rain down can you hear the earth is singing?
Rain down my heart is dry but still I'm singing;
Rain down, rain it down on me.
Back to the start, my heart is heavy. Feels like it's time to dream again!
I see the clouds, and yes I'm ready to dance upon this barren land. : ) (Macarena!)
Hope in my hands! Chorus...
Do not shut the heavens, but open up our hearts.
Give me strength to cross the water. Keep my heart upon Your altar.
Give me strength to cross this water. Keep my feet don’t let me falter.
Do not shut the heavens, but open up our hearts, open up our hearts.
Do not shut the heavens, but open up our hearts, open up our hearts.
I had such a fun day today. It was refreshing after a rough patch of days. Mondays are always fun because it is my dad's day off, and so we celebrate with things like going out to eat (nothing fancy - just like Taco Bell's tostadas or something fun and cheap), or going to a store, or getting hot chocolate from Starbucks. Or, in his case working on the house. Fun, fun, fun! He built my ramp on a Monday, and installed the guard rails on a Monday, and tries to get the honey-do stuff done on a Monday. Today he went shopping with my mom and I all day. On a Monday. He's a good man. Having four daughters is a hefty responsibility, and he handles it well. He has to go shopping a lot. Or wait in the car. Pretty sure he never would have imagined it that way, but he takes it all in stride. He sometimes likes shopping...I don't know if he'll admit it. : )
Anyway, we spent a large majority of the day at the mall nearby my house. Strolling and rolling around - it was super. I'm getting more and more used to people staring at me, and I've gotten to the point where I just pretend like I don't see people gawking (and I mean gawking) at me so they can stare freely, and try to figure out why the heck a chick is in a wheelchair being wheeled around with both legs straight up in the air. Guess away, my friends, guess away. It sounds like a really fun game.
The sweetest old lady came up to us while the three of us were sharing our Chinese food plate, and started talking to us about Jesus. It was so fast, one second she was asking me what happened to my legs, and then the next second she was telling us about how we needed Jesus in our live - she started sharing the gospel (a short description of Jesus' life, how it applies to our lives, and how we respond as human beings. The gospel is the hope that is found in Jesus. In case you didn't know. Like me. : ) It was a crazy encounter! Her name was Rosita. She smelled so good; like roses with a hint of sweet grandma. Anyway, I love listening to peoples' stories, and we definitely got to hear some of her life story. Most definitely. My parents and I prayed with her & went on our way.
One thing I noticed though is how much differently she presented the gospel than I do. She kept saying (and I really should say yelling) things like "You're going to hell without Jesus", or "separation for eternity from Him".
As a human being, I don't like hearing those words. As a Christian, I read them, and I still don't like them. The truth of the matter is that what she was saying is actually something that Jesus talked about in the Bible. Jesus only spoke truth, and sometimes he said some harsh things - he claimed to be the only way to heaven. I came across a verse today, and it kind of put things in perspective for me. (I have had a lot of things put into perspective for me in the last weeks, but it continues even still. I guess life truly is a life-long journey. : )
Jesus is talking to his disciples (in Mark 13, Mark being the disciple), and he's telling them that they are going to be beaten, flogged, hated, and killed because they associated themselves with Him. I mean, I'm sorry, but I may have just quietly tip-toed away at that point in the conversation. Like, "whistle whistle whistle...GONE." No one would have had time to say, "Where's Catie?", (which they often do...) I can see me now...sneaking around buildings, Mission Impossible style, unattaching myself from narrowing eyes. I mean, come on. Flogging? Death? But the disciples were so enthralled by Jesus that they stayed. He. Was worth it. I mean, I'm sure their knees were shaking, and their heads were spinning (and mine would have been too), but they stayed! It really says something about Jesus, doesn't it? These were smart people, and yet they were drawn to Jesus in such unimaginable ways. I am too.
Jesus then warns them that people are going to lie about the Messiah, but that they should remember what they have seen (and some of them even go on to write down those things they have seen.) Then he gets to a part about a tree. I just love trees. Soooo...Mark 13:28-37:
“Now learn this lesson from the fig tree: As soon as its twigs get tender and its leaves come out, you know that summer is near." (Unless strange weather patterns keep them blooming so that their leaves are coming out in November too...ha ha just kidding. Catie commentary ending now.) "Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that it is near, right at the door. Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away. ...It’s like a man going away: He leaves his house and puts his servants in charge, each with their assigned task, and tells the one at the door to keep watch. Therefore keep watch because you do not know when the owner of the house will come back—whether in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or at dawn. If he comes suddenly, do not let him find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to everyone: ‘Watch!'”
This is an intense verse. There's even...an exclamation point! It made me think of my intense Rosita encounter. I do not like to think about dying or passing away, and yet my very life could have been taken from me. I'm certainly thinking about it now! I think it is important to reflect upon the fact that our lives are but a mist, a vapor in the wind. We are so finite in the grand scheme of things, and I think we too easily get caught up in our own universes. We grow arrogant, and self-righteous because we forget these truths.
I mean, seriously, every year I'm disgusted by reports of people being trampled because others are so focused on what they want. For things that will be old news the following year, but who thinks of that when you're in the front of the line at Target because you've been waiting since 12:00am Central Time, and you really really really want that new T.V.! Did you know that someone died on Black Friday last year!? I've stopped going out on BF because it disgusts me. I'm not judging all people that do; some people do it and have a sense of contentment deep down in their souls. Even if they don't get that thing, they'll be ok, and you know, they might just let that jerk cut them in line. GASP! It's so easy though, isn't it? To get so caught up in the go go go mantra of our culture. I do. Get get get. More more more. You must must must have this this this. It's never-ever ending. And it's always so enticing, so delicious, but always so illusive. We never. seem. to. have. enough.
One of my favorite lines in that passage is this one:
"Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away."
How much more important do Jesus' words become in that moment? The real question is: do we believe those words? Are they really true? Some of you may just stop reading here because you don't believe that Jesus was real, or that he existed. Some may disagree that Jesus was God; maybe you think he was a great prophet. Others might say that he was a great person, a figure to aspire to be like in life. Still others say that he was a crazy-head who was overly involved in politics, or that he had an affair with Mary Magdalene. I don't know what you believe, and I don't know what you know of this Jesus.
What I believe and know is that the very Jesus talking in this verse, and all the others in the New Testament is the Jesus has changed my life. He has transformed my heart into what it is today, from a very self-focused, self-absorbed, self-appreciating, prideful, angry, and often unkind girl into someone who longs to made into his likeness: other-focused, enemy-loving, always kind, truthful at all times, patient to the point of blood boiling temperatures. Vulnerable. Meek. Lowly. Forgiving. He continues to transform my hear each day. I need him because he is the source of the things. The Source of Life. I believe that he was the Son of God, not because I like fairy tales, but because I believe the things I read in the Bible; he claimed to be the Son of God, and that's why I believe he is. And the people that followed him were not brainwashed - they were educated, smart people, some were even leaders in their day. I may be brainwashed & a little loopy, so you better be careful, eh? ; ) These people testify to this Jesus. And, like Rosita was saying, if we reject this gospel, one of peace, but one of great commitment & cost, we spend forever separated from this same Jesus.
So when I was listening to Rosita today, the question I found myself asking was, what is the truth?
C.S. Lewis once said that we could believe that Jesus was one of three things: a liar, a lunatic, or lord. What is the truth? You have to pick one. So, on this rainy day, I thought of another song, and it's my prayer for you and for me.
(chunks from) Rain Down by Delirious:
Looks like tonight, the sky is heavy, feels like the winds are gonna change.
Beneath my feet, the earth is ready, its time for heaven's rain.
Chorus:
Because it's living water we desire, to flood our hearts with holy fire.
Rain down all around the world we're singing;
Rain down can you hear the earth is singing?
Rain down my heart is dry but still I'm singing;
Rain down, rain it down on me.
Back to the start, my heart is heavy. Feels like it's time to dream again!
I see the clouds, and yes I'm ready to dance upon this barren land. : ) (Macarena!)
Hope in my hands! Chorus...
Do not shut the heavens, but open up our hearts.
Give me strength to cross the water. Keep my heart upon Your altar.
Give me strength to cross this water. Keep my feet don’t let me falter.
Do not shut the heavens, but open up our hearts, open up our hearts.
Do not shut the heavens, but open up our hearts, open up our hearts.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Tired.
I went to church today. It was wonderful, it was refreshing, it was encouraging, and I'm ready for bed. It is extremely encouraging to know that so many people are praying for me; I know that it is making such a difference. Prayer is not mystical, but something that God deserves and desires; honest communication with Him. He longs to hear from us, just as we long to hear from him, and I'm thankful that he is a God who hears his people. We can talk to him candidly but reverently, honestly but humbly, with our concerns and with the concerns of others. It's beautiful. He knows what I need, and chooses to allow other people to get invovled in the process. Equally beautiful.
The sweetest lady gave me a fabric card today with a landscape sewn onto it, and the verse that she listed on it is so applicable to my life. Psalm 63:6-8:
"On my bed I remember you;
I think of you through the watches of the night.
Because you are my help,
I sing in the shadow of your wings.
I cling to you;
your right hand upholds me."
Laying in bed gets old, but I still choose to remember God - his faithfulness, his considerate and compassionate heart, his love, his patience, his plan, and his purpose for my life. I catch myself thinking not only of his character, but of what he's doing right now. Smiling? Laughing? Radiating? Crying? Jealous? Angry? Concerned? Broken-hearted? Full of lament? All of the above? I so long to see him, and I can't wait until the day when I can behold his face, and fall before his throne. He truly is my help - at every single turn, and I can't help but envisioning myself as a baby chick nestled under its mother's wings, singing a song. The one I've had stuck in my head all day goes like this:
Great is thy faithfulness, oh God my Father. There is no shadow of turning with thee. Thou changest not, thy compassions they fail not. As thou hast been, thou forever will be. Great is thy faithfulness! Great is thy faithfulness! Morning by morning new mercies I see. All I have needed thy hand has provided; great is thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.
Lord, may that song be sweet to your ears, and may it bless you. I long to bring you praise, and I long to bring fame and honor to your brilliant name because you deserve it, God. You deserve even more than I have to give.
Clinging to God gets harder because my arms get tired, and my body grows so weak. I get scared, and start wondering if my safety harness is attached. At this moment, I am emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted. It has been a very long week, with quite a few battles that I've had to fight (and I should say "we" have had to fight). I'm so thankful that when we give our all, and surrender ourselves to an amazing God, that he upholds us, and takes care of us with such tenderness. Though I may be growing weak, he is strong, and I boast all the more gladly in my weakness. I am tired, but he is enough. He is my strength and my "awakeness" if you will. The watches of the night begin in about T-minus 45 seconds, but I think of him because he is my help, my source of life.
The sweetest lady gave me a fabric card today with a landscape sewn onto it, and the verse that she listed on it is so applicable to my life. Psalm 63:6-8:
"On my bed I remember you;
I think of you through the watches of the night.
Because you are my help,
I sing in the shadow of your wings.
I cling to you;
your right hand upholds me."
Laying in bed gets old, but I still choose to remember God - his faithfulness, his considerate and compassionate heart, his love, his patience, his plan, and his purpose for my life. I catch myself thinking not only of his character, but of what he's doing right now. Smiling? Laughing? Radiating? Crying? Jealous? Angry? Concerned? Broken-hearted? Full of lament? All of the above? I so long to see him, and I can't wait until the day when I can behold his face, and fall before his throne. He truly is my help - at every single turn, and I can't help but envisioning myself as a baby chick nestled under its mother's wings, singing a song. The one I've had stuck in my head all day goes like this:
Great is thy faithfulness, oh God my Father. There is no shadow of turning with thee. Thou changest not, thy compassions they fail not. As thou hast been, thou forever will be. Great is thy faithfulness! Great is thy faithfulness! Morning by morning new mercies I see. All I have needed thy hand has provided; great is thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.
Lord, may that song be sweet to your ears, and may it bless you. I long to bring you praise, and I long to bring fame and honor to your brilliant name because you deserve it, God. You deserve even more than I have to give.
Clinging to God gets harder because my arms get tired, and my body grows so weak. I get scared, and start wondering if my safety harness is attached. At this moment, I am emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted. It has been a very long week, with quite a few battles that I've had to fight (and I should say "we" have had to fight). I'm so thankful that when we give our all, and surrender ourselves to an amazing God, that he upholds us, and takes care of us with such tenderness. Though I may be growing weak, he is strong, and I boast all the more gladly in my weakness. I am tired, but he is enough. He is my strength and my "awakeness" if you will. The watches of the night begin in about T-minus 45 seconds, but I think of him because he is my help, my source of life.
Celebrate.
Dun dun dun duuuuuuuuuun! Guess who's going to church tomorrow, guess who's going to church tomorrow? Me! Me! Me!! Sing it again! Guess who's going to church tomorrow, guess who's going to church tomorrow? Me! Me! Me!!
That's my song. It's about tomorrow. Because I'm going to church.
Whoot whoot! Oh yeah, oh yeah. I'm dancing, I'm dancing.
I'm almost as excited about church as I was for Thanksgibbin'! (We had such a wonderful day together, and we have so much to be thankful for - individually and collectively. We ate dinner at my grandma's house, had some yummy pie, and then officially kicked off the "Christmas Season" with The Polar Express. I sat at the head of the table (which my dad and aunt had all ready to go) with my legs out. It was pretty cool. It tied the night at Olive Garden...a pretty great night. (By the way, I went to Olive Garden last weekend. It was also pretty cool. My peeps wheeled me in, and they had a table all ready to go for my gigantic family. My grandma was also there, and she sat next to me in her walker. We sat down and all seven of us just started giggling. I mean, call it a circus, call it an adventure, call it whatever you want. I only bumped four people, and I had the best time ever. Yay for fake Italian food! Chicken Marsala forever, baby. Wish I had a picture. Wish you could have been there!)
After the movie at grandma's, I had to use the ladies room. I tell you this because it's a funny story, and I'm giving you another thing to be thankful for. You can't tell anyone else. Because it's about poop. Again. If you did happen to have a hard time coming up with something to be thankful for Thursday, consider this: you can go to the bathroom anytime you want without help from anyone. Not complaining. But be thankful.
So, this poop story starts at grandma's house, and ends in my garage. I ended up going poop in the garage. My aunt had to follow my parents home because the toilet, aka Commodie, wouldn't fit in our van with the wheelchair. My dad sped the whole way because it was serious. Catie Circus? Maybe. And maybe I need a tent...it certainly would have come in handy because MAN! I had to go! My parents were freaking out, well, because of what has happened in the past. (See: "Humility") They didn't want that moment in time replicated, and I didn't either. So, my mom being the ingenuitive woman that she is grabbed Commodie from the car & raced into the garage. From the side door of the van, I plopped onto Commodie, my aunt & three sisters formed a wall around me so the neighbors couldn't see my nekked butt, and BAM! It was a magical moment. It was like a real-life Planet Earth movie taking place in our garage. You know, where the big elephants surround the baby ones so they don't get eaten by lions? Except the baby elephant had to go the bathroom in this movie.
Have I mentioned that I have a lot to be thankful for? Fo ril.
In the midst of this joyous post-giving of Thanks weekend, and some crazy poop escapades, I had a really weird day today. First of all, I watched SNL instead of reading my Bible this morning. Not a good idea. Not only did this season stink, but I got off on the wrong foot. It's amazing how much of a difference reading something in the morning can make for me. And, second of all, I napped, and this is always a big mistake. I'm simply not a napper, but I couldn't help it! I'm tired! And my feet hurt! A lot! So when I was grumpy towards my dad today, he got his feelings hurt because he didn't realize that my feet were hurting, and then I felt bad, and then I fell asleep, and then my sister was leaving to go back to Texas and had to wake me up, and I didn't really get to say goodbye because I was in this drunken stupor, and the sad dad left with the mom and the sister, and then I woke up and I just felt sad. I hate saying goodbye. It's to be expected. Not every day is going to be hunky-dory, and my body is still recuperating from a major surgery. I'm human all right, but I don't like having gross days. They make me feel, well, gross.
Which brings me to tomorrow. I feel hope in having the day that God modeled for us: a day of rest. Now, this may sound crazy to you because I lay in bed all day, but I think the rest goes beyond the physical. I'm talking mental and emotional rest. It's all in how I look at it, and I'm thankful that the Holy Spirit uses other people around us to encourage us, and build us up. God so knew what he was doing when he designed the church. The first definition of church from Dictionary.com is "a building for public Christian worship". Eeeeeeeeeehhh. I disagree, Dictionary.com. I think that the first definition should be what they have for number three: the whole body of Christian believers.
The church has come to be important in my life because that's how God has designed me; it's how he designs us all. We need other people. Even if you aren't a "people person", you need other people around you. We need other people. And yes, sometimes it's hard being a part of the church because being around people is a lot of work, but the result is so worth it. We are not called to do life on our own; we are called to do life together. Tomorrow morning, I'm looking forward to sitting next to the people of the church, the body of Jesus, and worshipping our God together; an extension of what we've (hopefully) been doing all throughout the week. It's so beautiful, and it gives me such hope. David, the writer of the Psalms is talkingt to God, and he says, in chapter 92, verse 1:
"What a beautiful thing, God to give thanks, to sing an anthem to you, the High God!
To announce your love each daybreak."
What a celebration it will be! A new day. What an honor to sing songs to the High God. To announce his love; a God that is most worthy of all that we have to give. And not just tomorrow, but each day. I can't wait!
That's my song. It's about tomorrow. Because I'm going to church.
Whoot whoot! Oh yeah, oh yeah. I'm dancing, I'm dancing.
I'm almost as excited about church as I was for Thanksgibbin'! (We had such a wonderful day together, and we have so much to be thankful for - individually and collectively. We ate dinner at my grandma's house, had some yummy pie, and then officially kicked off the "Christmas Season" with The Polar Express. I sat at the head of the table (which my dad and aunt had all ready to go) with my legs out. It was pretty cool. It tied the night at Olive Garden...a pretty great night. (By the way, I went to Olive Garden last weekend. It was also pretty cool. My peeps wheeled me in, and they had a table all ready to go for my gigantic family. My grandma was also there, and she sat next to me in her walker. We sat down and all seven of us just started giggling. I mean, call it a circus, call it an adventure, call it whatever you want. I only bumped four people, and I had the best time ever. Yay for fake Italian food! Chicken Marsala forever, baby. Wish I had a picture. Wish you could have been there!)
After the movie at grandma's, I had to use the ladies room. I tell you this because it's a funny story, and I'm giving you another thing to be thankful for. You can't tell anyone else. Because it's about poop. Again. If you did happen to have a hard time coming up with something to be thankful for Thursday, consider this: you can go to the bathroom anytime you want without help from anyone. Not complaining. But be thankful.
So, this poop story starts at grandma's house, and ends in my garage. I ended up going poop in the garage. My aunt had to follow my parents home because the toilet, aka Commodie, wouldn't fit in our van with the wheelchair. My dad sped the whole way because it was serious. Catie Circus? Maybe. And maybe I need a tent...it certainly would have come in handy because MAN! I had to go! My parents were freaking out, well, because of what has happened in the past. (See: "Humility") They didn't want that moment in time replicated, and I didn't either. So, my mom being the ingenuitive woman that she is grabbed Commodie from the car & raced into the garage. From the side door of the van, I plopped onto Commodie, my aunt & three sisters formed a wall around me so the neighbors couldn't see my nekked butt, and BAM! It was a magical moment. It was like a real-life Planet Earth movie taking place in our garage. You know, where the big elephants surround the baby ones so they don't get eaten by lions? Except the baby elephant had to go the bathroom in this movie.
Have I mentioned that I have a lot to be thankful for? Fo ril.
In the midst of this joyous post-giving of Thanks weekend, and some crazy poop escapades, I had a really weird day today. First of all, I watched SNL instead of reading my Bible this morning. Not a good idea. Not only did this season stink, but I got off on the wrong foot. It's amazing how much of a difference reading something in the morning can make for me. And, second of all, I napped, and this is always a big mistake. I'm simply not a napper, but I couldn't help it! I'm tired! And my feet hurt! A lot! So when I was grumpy towards my dad today, he got his feelings hurt because he didn't realize that my feet were hurting, and then I felt bad, and then I fell asleep, and then my sister was leaving to go back to Texas and had to wake me up, and I didn't really get to say goodbye because I was in this drunken stupor, and the sad dad left with the mom and the sister, and then I woke up and I just felt sad. I hate saying goodbye. It's to be expected. Not every day is going to be hunky-dory, and my body is still recuperating from a major surgery. I'm human all right, but I don't like having gross days. They make me feel, well, gross.
Which brings me to tomorrow. I feel hope in having the day that God modeled for us: a day of rest. Now, this may sound crazy to you because I lay in bed all day, but I think the rest goes beyond the physical. I'm talking mental and emotional rest. It's all in how I look at it, and I'm thankful that the Holy Spirit uses other people around us to encourage us, and build us up. God so knew what he was doing when he designed the church. The first definition of church from Dictionary.com is "a building for public Christian worship". Eeeeeeeeeehhh. I disagree, Dictionary.com. I think that the first definition should be what they have for number three: the whole body of Christian believers.
The church has come to be important in my life because that's how God has designed me; it's how he designs us all. We need other people. Even if you aren't a "people person", you need other people around you. We need other people. And yes, sometimes it's hard being a part of the church because being around people is a lot of work, but the result is so worth it. We are not called to do life on our own; we are called to do life together. Tomorrow morning, I'm looking forward to sitting next to the people of the church, the body of Jesus, and worshipping our God together; an extension of what we've (hopefully) been doing all throughout the week. It's so beautiful, and it gives me such hope. David, the writer of the Psalms is talkingt to God, and he says, in chapter 92, verse 1:
"What a beautiful thing, God to give thanks, to sing an anthem to you, the High God!
To announce your love each daybreak."
What a celebration it will be! A new day. What an honor to sing songs to the High God. To announce his love; a God that is most worthy of all that we have to give. And not just tomorrow, but each day. I can't wait!
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Grateful.
"To speak gratitude is courteous and pleasant, to enact gratitude is generous and noble, but to live gratitude is to touch Heaven." -- Johannes A. Gaertner
I read an article today in the Los Angeles Times that said that Google's Hot Trends (the search engine stalker for Google) was showing "Thanksgiving Quotes", etc. as an off-the-charts subject today. I'm one of the millions that had to look for a quote that embodied "Thanksgiving"...I call it research. Johannes is what I found...the internet is something for which I am thankful.
Today is technically the day that we call Thanksgiving, being that it's a little after midnight. Our house smells so good; the residual smell from the preparation for tomorrow lingering in the air. My mom does the majority of the cooking in our house, and we all kind of chip in as she needs help. It's funny because she realized that she was out of Cinnamon, Cloves, and Nutmeg at separate times, luckily retrieved in one trip though. I thought it was funny - she's cute. She has deep, southern roots & such a beautiful heart. It's so much fun just to watch her, and to watch her cook. I can remember doing it ever since I was little. I'm thankful for her, and the way that she serves our family with humility and grace. My prayer is that the rest of us in the familia can do the same; the focus being namely me.
I remember one Thanksgiving we received a meal basket from our church because my family was struggling while my dad was in seminary. It was so much fun to unload all of the groceries that were brought over to us by several people from Faith Church in Grayslake, IL; my first church. Some of the things that we got were so foreign to me; we always got to choose what we would eat in the past, but that year we ate what we were given. It seems so long ago, but it really wasn't. The years that we had very little were the years that I found myself relying the most on God. I can vividly remember watching him at work in my life & in the lives of my family members amidst the struggle and pain. I had only been a Christian for two or three years when my lifestyle was drastically changed before my eyes, and I found myself pondering this God who called me to look to him to provide - down to each morsel of food. I mean, I had never even seen generic food in our house before. To think - he could see me, and see my needs. It was weird. But there was this calm. God began to teach me humility in those years, and I'm so thankful.
To look in our kitchen tonight, and to, first of all, be alive to smell and see and appreciate is something I'm grateful for in and of itself. I like to think about thinking, and I'm thankful to be alive to think. I will never forget what has happened to me in the last few weeks, and I cannot stop thanking God that I landed on the ground the way I did: not on my back or my head, but right on my feet. I'm alive. To be able to sit around a couple of kitchen stools for a make-shift table playing a game of Clue with all three of my sisters, and to laugh at our dorky dogs, and to soak in the smells in our house...it's pretty indescribable. I mean, I'm thankful that we can afford lighting so we can see each other at 4pm. Seriously.
God, help me to remember to pray for those who can't right now.
This morning I was kind of frustrated with myself because I was really getting caught up in the romanticism of Thanksgiving. I easily forgot to stop and pray for those who don't have food for tomorrow, or ovens to cook it in, or houses to live in, or families to surround them and support them.
Father, forgive me.
I envision food and laughter and beautiful flowers and fall decorations and napping in the afternoon. These things are good things, blessings to me, but I think that the day of giving Thanks is so much more than those things; giving thanks doesn't just happen on a day. Or in a week. Or in a month. Like Johannes says, it's a lifestyle. Even then, I don't think he says enough in that quote...he makes it seem like we are to touch Heaven in our own strength. But, Paul (& Timothy?), the author of a book called Colossians says that it's more than that. Chapter 3, verse 12-17 says:
"Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, [this being people who are following Jesus] clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."
I love that imagery: clothing yourself with things like compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. What colors do you think those things would be? I love that love is above all of these virtues. Why do you think that is? I love that Paul sticks in one of my favorite verses, right in the middle of his admonishment to the church in Colossae:
"And be thankful."
It's so simple, right? I had to put this whole chunk of verses in because it's like a cookie - I couldn't just pull out the chocolate chips, man. But the simplicity of that verse is so sweet. "And be thankful." Who'da thunk?
The second paragraph appeals to me because I love love love singing to God with gratitude. I really don't like singing by myself, or singing in performances, but put me right at Jesus' feet and I can't stop. I just have so much to be thankful for!!! I can't WAIT until I get to wheel into church (hopefully this week) and "stand" alongside other people and just sing. And listen.
One of the things that I've gotten in a habit of doing in the last few years, (and especially this last year) is to write down a list of all of the things I can think of that I'm thankful for. And, there's stuff that's not even on my list because I don't even realize all of the things I should be thankful for. It's crazy ridiculous! It's amazing what sitting down for half an hour will bring to your mind though - it's a discipline that I try to maintain even when I'm frustrated or feeling sad as well. Sometimes my lists are specific, like when I'm with friends drinking soy hot chocolate at The Steaming Cup in Waukesha, WI, and the leaves are falling like confetti from the Gleditsia Triacanthos trees, and I'm sitting in the sun, soaking up it's rays. Sometimes they are more broad and encompassing, like the one below. Just depends on how the Lord leads. Writing it down though, making it tangible - it is an eye-opening and very humbling thing.
So, in an effort to continue to verbalize the many, many, many ways that God has proven himself faithful to me, I want to share my list. It's not to brag, and it's not to boast. It's not to compare lists with other lists. It's to declare God's wonder & bring him glory. Here are just a few, in order of importance.
I'm thankful that:
1) There is (I said was, but it's "is") this guy named Jesus who is showing me what love is every day. He loves me. Passionately. Fervently. Faithfully. And not just me, but us. You and I. The 6,790,062,216 people who inhabit the earth.
2) That He found me & I found him, and that the timing of my life has been under his orchestration. I'm alive.
3) That I live in a country where I'm free to talk about this man, and blog about him, and smile when I think about him. There is no fear of what might happen to me when I study Scripture or pray or do something like walk out of church.
4) That my family members closest to me have committed their lives to him as well, and want to be more like him each day.
5) That said family that is working to try to be like Jesus when we interact, and that when we fail, we have forgiven one another. It's been & will be a long process, but we are members of one body.
6) For friends that encourage me and build me up in who God is shaping me to be. They pray for me, and speak truth into my life. They wait around in hospital rooms with me. Friends that celebrate who I am becoming, and have loved me even when I wasn't becoming. Or really loud.
7) That I have clean drinking water. That comes out of a faucet. That comes to me in a cup. Sometimes with this stuff called "ice", and that (for now) there is no threat to our water supply, no war being waged over who gets what water. Yet.
8) That we have food in abundance, food I'm not allergic to, food that keeps us healthy, time to share it with one another, and the capacity to cook it and enjoy it.
9) That I am even able to communicate these things: via words & writing & reading, via English, via a computer. And that I have the ability to choose what languages to learn next.
10) That God continues to reveal to me what I need to be thankful for, and works in my heart when I don't understand or I forget exactly what I have. Right in front of me.
When I look over this list, I wonder if, 1) I should share it, 2) If I sound like I'm preaching, 3) If I sound boastful, and 4) How God could choose to bless me, of all people, with these things. I mean, these things are huge. They are so, so huge. Numbers 1, 2, 4, & 10 in that list are pretty permanent, but if all the others disappear, I still want to be living a lifestyle of gratitude. I was once someone whom you could have considered to be "lost." Like, without purpose or vision or gratitude or sustainable love/joy/peace/patience. Without an intimate connection to Jesus. There is this song... it's one I haven't heard in a while, but I thought of it when I looked at the title of our blog. The words go like this:
I'm forever grateful to you, I'm forever gratetful for the cross.
I'm forever gratetful to you, that you came to seek and save the lost.
Those two lines pretty much sum me up. And, I love it that I have the privilege of being forever grateful; the joy never has to end. I so look forward to the day where I get to stand and bask in the glory and warmth of God, and spend forever and ever with him. For that, I truly I am and will be eternally grateful.
I read an article today in the Los Angeles Times that said that Google's Hot Trends (the search engine stalker for Google) was showing "Thanksgiving Quotes", etc. as an off-the-charts subject today. I'm one of the millions that had to look for a quote that embodied "Thanksgiving"...I call it research. Johannes is what I found...the internet is something for which I am thankful.
Today is technically the day that we call Thanksgiving, being that it's a little after midnight. Our house smells so good; the residual smell from the preparation for tomorrow lingering in the air. My mom does the majority of the cooking in our house, and we all kind of chip in as she needs help. It's funny because she realized that she was out of Cinnamon, Cloves, and Nutmeg at separate times, luckily retrieved in one trip though. I thought it was funny - she's cute. She has deep, southern roots & such a beautiful heart. It's so much fun just to watch her, and to watch her cook. I can remember doing it ever since I was little. I'm thankful for her, and the way that she serves our family with humility and grace. My prayer is that the rest of us in the familia can do the same; the focus being namely me.
I remember one Thanksgiving we received a meal basket from our church because my family was struggling while my dad was in seminary. It was so much fun to unload all of the groceries that were brought over to us by several people from Faith Church in Grayslake, IL; my first church. Some of the things that we got were so foreign to me; we always got to choose what we would eat in the past, but that year we ate what we were given. It seems so long ago, but it really wasn't. The years that we had very little were the years that I found myself relying the most on God. I can vividly remember watching him at work in my life & in the lives of my family members amidst the struggle and pain. I had only been a Christian for two or three years when my lifestyle was drastically changed before my eyes, and I found myself pondering this God who called me to look to him to provide - down to each morsel of food. I mean, I had never even seen generic food in our house before. To think - he could see me, and see my needs. It was weird. But there was this calm. God began to teach me humility in those years, and I'm so thankful.
To look in our kitchen tonight, and to, first of all, be alive to smell and see and appreciate is something I'm grateful for in and of itself. I like to think about thinking, and I'm thankful to be alive to think. I will never forget what has happened to me in the last few weeks, and I cannot stop thanking God that I landed on the ground the way I did: not on my back or my head, but right on my feet. I'm alive. To be able to sit around a couple of kitchen stools for a make-shift table playing a game of Clue with all three of my sisters, and to laugh at our dorky dogs, and to soak in the smells in our house...it's pretty indescribable. I mean, I'm thankful that we can afford lighting so we can see each other at 4pm. Seriously.
God, help me to remember to pray for those who can't right now.
This morning I was kind of frustrated with myself because I was really getting caught up in the romanticism of Thanksgiving. I easily forgot to stop and pray for those who don't have food for tomorrow, or ovens to cook it in, or houses to live in, or families to surround them and support them.
Father, forgive me.
I envision food and laughter and beautiful flowers and fall decorations and napping in the afternoon. These things are good things, blessings to me, but I think that the day of giving Thanks is so much more than those things; giving thanks doesn't just happen on a day. Or in a week. Or in a month. Like Johannes says, it's a lifestyle. Even then, I don't think he says enough in that quote...he makes it seem like we are to touch Heaven in our own strength. But, Paul (& Timothy?), the author of a book called Colossians says that it's more than that. Chapter 3, verse 12-17 says:
"Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, [this being people who are following Jesus] clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."
I love that imagery: clothing yourself with things like compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. What colors do you think those things would be? I love that love is above all of these virtues. Why do you think that is? I love that Paul sticks in one of my favorite verses, right in the middle of his admonishment to the church in Colossae:
"And be thankful."
It's so simple, right? I had to put this whole chunk of verses in because it's like a cookie - I couldn't just pull out the chocolate chips, man. But the simplicity of that verse is so sweet. "And be thankful." Who'da thunk?
The second paragraph appeals to me because I love love love singing to God with gratitude. I really don't like singing by myself, or singing in performances, but put me right at Jesus' feet and I can't stop. I just have so much to be thankful for!!! I can't WAIT until I get to wheel into church (hopefully this week) and "stand" alongside other people and just sing. And listen.
One of the things that I've gotten in a habit of doing in the last few years, (and especially this last year) is to write down a list of all of the things I can think of that I'm thankful for. And, there's stuff that's not even on my list because I don't even realize all of the things I should be thankful for. It's crazy ridiculous! It's amazing what sitting down for half an hour will bring to your mind though - it's a discipline that I try to maintain even when I'm frustrated or feeling sad as well. Sometimes my lists are specific, like when I'm with friends drinking soy hot chocolate at The Steaming Cup in Waukesha, WI, and the leaves are falling like confetti from the Gleditsia Triacanthos trees, and I'm sitting in the sun, soaking up it's rays. Sometimes they are more broad and encompassing, like the one below. Just depends on how the Lord leads. Writing it down though, making it tangible - it is an eye-opening and very humbling thing.
So, in an effort to continue to verbalize the many, many, many ways that God has proven himself faithful to me, I want to share my list. It's not to brag, and it's not to boast. It's not to compare lists with other lists. It's to declare God's wonder & bring him glory. Here are just a few, in order of importance.
I'm thankful that:
1) There is (I said was, but it's "is") this guy named Jesus who is showing me what love is every day. He loves me. Passionately. Fervently. Faithfully. And not just me, but us. You and I. The 6,790,062,216 people who inhabit the earth.
2) That He found me & I found him, and that the timing of my life has been under his orchestration. I'm alive.
3) That I live in a country where I'm free to talk about this man, and blog about him, and smile when I think about him. There is no fear of what might happen to me when I study Scripture or pray or do something like walk out of church.
4) That my family members closest to me have committed their lives to him as well, and want to be more like him each day.
5) That said family that is working to try to be like Jesus when we interact, and that when we fail, we have forgiven one another. It's been & will be a long process, but we are members of one body.
6) For friends that encourage me and build me up in who God is shaping me to be. They pray for me, and speak truth into my life. They wait around in hospital rooms with me. Friends that celebrate who I am becoming, and have loved me even when I wasn't becoming. Or really loud.
7) That I have clean drinking water. That comes out of a faucet. That comes to me in a cup. Sometimes with this stuff called "ice", and that (for now) there is no threat to our water supply, no war being waged over who gets what water. Yet.
8) That we have food in abundance, food I'm not allergic to, food that keeps us healthy, time to share it with one another, and the capacity to cook it and enjoy it.
9) That I am even able to communicate these things: via words & writing & reading, via English, via a computer. And that I have the ability to choose what languages to learn next.
10) That God continues to reveal to me what I need to be thankful for, and works in my heart when I don't understand or I forget exactly what I have. Right in front of me.
When I look over this list, I wonder if, 1) I should share it, 2) If I sound like I'm preaching, 3) If I sound boastful, and 4) How God could choose to bless me, of all people, with these things. I mean, these things are huge. They are so, so huge. Numbers 1, 2, 4, & 10 in that list are pretty permanent, but if all the others disappear, I still want to be living a lifestyle of gratitude. I was once someone whom you could have considered to be "lost." Like, without purpose or vision or gratitude or sustainable love/joy/peace/patience. Without an intimate connection to Jesus. There is this song... it's one I haven't heard in a while, but I thought of it when I looked at the title of our blog. The words go like this:
I'm forever grateful to you, I'm forever gratetful for the cross.
I'm forever gratetful to you, that you came to seek and save the lost.
Those two lines pretty much sum me up. And, I love it that I have the privilege of being forever grateful; the joy never has to end. I so look forward to the day where I get to stand and bask in the glory and warmth of God, and spend forever and ever with him. For that, I truly I am and will be eternally grateful.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Sleep.
I just have one word for this evening: Percoset.
My right foot has been feeling a little off in the last couple of days, and tonight, it felt like it was on fire. Like dragon-breathed fire. After much whining and writhing I decided (with some intrvention from the ones who love me) that it was officially time to take drugs that aren't prescribed every day. I've realy worked hard at trying not to rely on the "as-needed" pain relievers because I'm petrified of becoming addicted to them. So I took my first as-needed pill tonight; they work. Really well. A little too well one might say.
Normally, I write in my blog every night because God is moving in my life throughout the day in various small, and yet oh-so-big ways, and I just have to write about it. And today he did. Oh, he SO did. I had quiet the adventure, and I can't wait to spill it all. And, normally, I only take Friday nights off of writing to spend time with friends and family, but tonight I'm making an exception - I can't write. Because, normally, I'm not incapacitated by narcotics. I'm too loopy right now. Everytime I look at something, a new song pops in my head & I can't hlep but sing it out. My family wants me to go to sleep because it's 11pm.
Story time!! Really fast. It's reminding me of the time I was in the hospital. The pian killers were making me really, really itchy. I woke up at 2 in the mornig with a very itchy backside, and I asked my mom to put lotion on me. She was sleeping at the time, and I'm pretty sure she thought I wasn't serious. She laughed. So then I asked the nurs, and she was like, "Sure!" (may the Lord bless you, nurse) As she was leaving, I stareted serenading her with, "Did I eveer tell you you're my herooooooooooooo?" I don't know any other words to that song, so I just kept singing that part and "You are the wind beneath my wingssssss"
That's kind of what's happening now. So, forgive any grammar or spelling whoopsies & pray that I don't start giggling in the near future. I love it and I hate it at the same time. Talk about surrender of control. *sigh*
Jesus, thank you that you take good care of me. Thanks that you never sleep, and that you watch over your people with care. Thanks for my doctors and nurses who served me with patience and gentle hands while I was in the Froedert. Thanks that you think my songs are good even when they're abou t my heros and my ice packs, and thanks that you watch over your chicks. (wait, is chicks the word to use for baby boy and girl chickens?) And chickos. I sure do love you.
Goodnight Jesus.
My right foot has been feeling a little off in the last couple of days, and tonight, it felt like it was on fire. Like dragon-breathed fire. After much whining and writhing I decided (with some intrvention from the ones who love me) that it was officially time to take drugs that aren't prescribed every day. I've realy worked hard at trying not to rely on the "as-needed" pain relievers because I'm petrified of becoming addicted to them. So I took my first as-needed pill tonight; they work. Really well. A little too well one might say.
Normally, I write in my blog every night because God is moving in my life throughout the day in various small, and yet oh-so-big ways, and I just have to write about it. And today he did. Oh, he SO did. I had quiet the adventure, and I can't wait to spill it all. And, normally, I only take Friday nights off of writing to spend time with friends and family, but tonight I'm making an exception - I can't write. Because, normally, I'm not incapacitated by narcotics. I'm too loopy right now. Everytime I look at something, a new song pops in my head & I can't hlep but sing it out. My family wants me to go to sleep because it's 11pm.
Story time!! Really fast. It's reminding me of the time I was in the hospital. The pian killers were making me really, really itchy. I woke up at 2 in the mornig with a very itchy backside, and I asked my mom to put lotion on me. She was sleeping at the time, and I'm pretty sure she thought I wasn't serious. She laughed. So then I asked the nurs, and she was like, "Sure!" (may the Lord bless you, nurse) As she was leaving, I stareted serenading her with, "Did I eveer tell you you're my herooooooooooooo?" I don't know any other words to that song, so I just kept singing that part and "You are the wind beneath my wingssssss"
That's kind of what's happening now. So, forgive any grammar or spelling whoopsies & pray that I don't start giggling in the near future. I love it and I hate it at the same time. Talk about surrender of control. *sigh*
Jesus, thank you that you take good care of me. Thanks that you never sleep, and that you watch over your people with care. Thanks for my doctors and nurses who served me with patience and gentle hands while I was in the Froedert. Thanks that you think my songs are good even when they're abou t my heros and my ice packs, and thanks that you watch over your chicks. (wait, is chicks the word to use for baby boy and girl chickens?) And chickos. I sure do love you.
Goodnight Jesus.
Trust.
There was a tornado that touched down this afternoon near Rockford, Illinois. My family lives an hour away from Rockford. So, I'm sitting in "my room" (which was formerly the dining room, in case you didn't know) and I hear the "Warning Noise" on the T.V. while I'm watching National Geographic's Great Migrations on my computer (which, can I just say, is fantastic. It's kind of graphic, but it totally redeemed Netflix for me. I missed it while I was in the hospital, and I was so sad.) You know the warning noise I'm talking about, the annoying bleeping that pops up in the middle of nowhere, at the most inconvenient time while you're watching T.V. I heard hard rain outside, and asked my sister, Nat, to go check it out. She was like, "Oh, there's just a tornado warning out for some counties", and then she listed them off. They sounded close to where I am currently laying.
So, I kind of started freaking out. My parents had just slipped out to go pick up the other twin, and do a little grocery shopping for Thursday. (Isn't it funny how these things happen right after the strong, able-bodied people leave? Nat can barely lift my left leg. I say this in love & admiration for the girl.) I started spazzing out, and was like, "What are we going to do if the tornado touches down here?" I'd never given it a thought. I have thought about fires, but there is a gigantic window right next to me that I could break open with the piece-o-junk-laptop I'm typing on & wiggle out, or wait for the firepeople to come save me. They would see me waving crazily from the highway.
A tornado is different - I'd have to make it to the basement. Natalie turned and looked at me very sternly, and said, "Catie, if a tornado comes, I'll drag you down to the basement by your legs." She was dead serious. I'm not kidding when I say I have the best family in the world. The fact that she acknowledged my presence last night at her concert meant a lot, and here she is figuring out a rescue plan. Can you just picture me doing the crab walk down a flight of stairs while a tornado is whirring around? It actually did touch down in Caledonia & McHenry (which is even closer to my house.) It caused a lot damage, so I have a lot to be thankful for & many people to pray for. Luckily, no one was killed, but there were quite a few people who were injured.
It's really hard to trust the people around you, isn't it? One of the hardest things for me to do is to physically let go of the door jam posts on the way to the ramp in the garage. Once I let go, my direction is no longer in my hands. Gravity, my wheelchair & my parents are officially in charge. The same goes for getting in the car. I have no control while I'm being hoisted into the air. Surrender is one of lifes greatest challenges, I think. It goes right along with humility and hope. Trusting others is something that I have often talked about in the last couple of weeks, but it's something that is really, really important. I trust that when people say they are praying for me, that they actually are. I trust that my parents don't have growing feelings of frustration that they aren't telling me about, or that they aren't going to give me the boot before I'm ready to leave the nesty nest. Again. I trust that my doctors know what they are doing, and that when they say, "things look good", that they are actually telling the truth. Trust permeates how we live our lives, and how we think about everything. And, we all have issues because those thoughts about all of those people sneak into my head, and I start to say things like, "I wonder if they really..." or "Do they really mean that?"
My other little sister texted me this morning, early in morning. She said, "Read Romans 15:13" and some other mushy stuff. (Can I just also say that God is a God of redemption because all of these things I'm saying about each of my family members are not things that I always would have been able to say. I have not always been close with my family, and I went through a very dark & selfish time. But God is so faithful, he has & is redeeming my family in ways I never would have imagined. Just as a side note. Thought I'd put that out there because I'm braggin' on the fam. so much. I take no credit for their awesomeness. I do not deserve any of it, but they give me grace anyway.) Here's the verse:
"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."
God is a God of hope. And this God fills people with all joy and peace, not just some, but all. Only as we trust in him. And this is one of the biggest things I have been learning over the last year. From student teaching all the way to this very moment: trust. Here's the definition of the word from dictionary.com: "reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; confidence." Well, God has proven his integrity, strength, ability and surety to me over and over and over and over and over again. I'm not sure how well I rely on it consistently. And, the other things is that the last word is something of stumper for me. I'm going to tell you another secret, something you can't tell anyone else, okay? I. Lack. Confidence. I may have a lot of people fooled, and I can't believe I'm admitting it, but I don't feel confident in a lot of the things I do. Hence the trusty issues.
Then we get to the second part of the verse. (Sorry this is getting so long...I'll hurry it up...) Know what I think of? Waterfalls in Hawaii that I saw on "Atlas" yesterday on Netflix. (I love the Discovery Channel.) Huge, roaring waterfalls that flow in to crystalline bodies of pure, unadulterated water. The kind you can drink without a filter and not get weird parasites that eat your liver and your brain. That's what I think of when I think of overflowing with hope. And, not by my power, but by the Holy Spirit.
The Holy Spirit is something that freaks some people out...I know I used to be weirded out by it myself. I have been learning about what it is more and more over the last few years, and it has made me fall more in love with God. The Holy Spirit is what was at work when I hit the ground at 32 feet per second, but still had this amazing sense of peace that penetrated my bones. It was what was at work when the person I was climbing with that night & someone else we had just met bent down to pray with me in the middle of gym, and stuck by my side through the night & into my journey. It was what was at work when the orthopedic surgeon was magically able to operate the very next morning, and feel hopeful after he was done performing the surgeries that were supposed to keep me in the hospital for two weeks & not five days. It's what enabled me to have joy and peace in the midst of an immense amount of pain and suffering. It's what spurred the thought of a sister to send such a verse to someone like me who needed to hear it. It's what a lot of people would call "coincidence".
The Holy Spirit is a role model for perseverance, working hard, and giving grace. It's not some mysterious flame over a candle floating in the sky. It's not something that can be tamed by people - in fact, just the opposite. It's undefinable, in a way. Always on the move. The Bible talks about how it intercedes for us "with groans that words cannot express." But it's something that Jesus gave to his followers as a gift, a deposit as he was leaving for heaven. And, it's something that we are called to depend on as we learn more and more about it. I look at it as God's way of not abandoning us, leaving us like orphans in a dark & sometimes dismal world. (Do you know what dismal means? Dismal: causing gloom or dejection; gloomy; dreary; cheerless; melancholy) Passive.
So, through the power of the Holy Spirit, (not that weird of a thing, and yet, kind of at the same time) I pray this for you, just as Paul did to the church in Rome (a very dark and dismal place): May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Read it again.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Trust. In Him.
So, I kind of started freaking out. My parents had just slipped out to go pick up the other twin, and do a little grocery shopping for Thursday. (Isn't it funny how these things happen right after the strong, able-bodied people leave? Nat can barely lift my left leg. I say this in love & admiration for the girl.) I started spazzing out, and was like, "What are we going to do if the tornado touches down here?" I'd never given it a thought. I have thought about fires, but there is a gigantic window right next to me that I could break open with the piece-o-junk-laptop I'm typing on & wiggle out, or wait for the firepeople to come save me. They would see me waving crazily from the highway.
A tornado is different - I'd have to make it to the basement. Natalie turned and looked at me very sternly, and said, "Catie, if a tornado comes, I'll drag you down to the basement by your legs." She was dead serious. I'm not kidding when I say I have the best family in the world. The fact that she acknowledged my presence last night at her concert meant a lot, and here she is figuring out a rescue plan. Can you just picture me doing the crab walk down a flight of stairs while a tornado is whirring around? It actually did touch down in Caledonia & McHenry (which is even closer to my house.) It caused a lot damage, so I have a lot to be thankful for & many people to pray for. Luckily, no one was killed, but there were quite a few people who were injured.
It's really hard to trust the people around you, isn't it? One of the hardest things for me to do is to physically let go of the door jam posts on the way to the ramp in the garage. Once I let go, my direction is no longer in my hands. Gravity, my wheelchair & my parents are officially in charge. The same goes for getting in the car. I have no control while I'm being hoisted into the air. Surrender is one of lifes greatest challenges, I think. It goes right along with humility and hope. Trusting others is something that I have often talked about in the last couple of weeks, but it's something that is really, really important. I trust that when people say they are praying for me, that they actually are. I trust that my parents don't have growing feelings of frustration that they aren't telling me about, or that they aren't going to give me the boot before I'm ready to leave the nesty nest. Again. I trust that my doctors know what they are doing, and that when they say, "things look good", that they are actually telling the truth. Trust permeates how we live our lives, and how we think about everything. And, we all have issues because those thoughts about all of those people sneak into my head, and I start to say things like, "I wonder if they really..." or "Do they really mean that?"
My other little sister texted me this morning, early in morning. She said, "Read Romans 15:13" and some other mushy stuff. (Can I just also say that God is a God of redemption because all of these things I'm saying about each of my family members are not things that I always would have been able to say. I have not always been close with my family, and I went through a very dark & selfish time. But God is so faithful, he has & is redeeming my family in ways I never would have imagined. Just as a side note. Thought I'd put that out there because I'm braggin' on the fam. so much. I take no credit for their awesomeness. I do not deserve any of it, but they give me grace anyway.) Here's the verse:
"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."
God is a God of hope. And this God fills people with all joy and peace, not just some, but all. Only as we trust in him. And this is one of the biggest things I have been learning over the last year. From student teaching all the way to this very moment: trust. Here's the definition of the word from dictionary.com: "reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; confidence." Well, God has proven his integrity, strength, ability and surety to me over and over and over and over and over again. I'm not sure how well I rely on it consistently. And, the other things is that the last word is something of stumper for me. I'm going to tell you another secret, something you can't tell anyone else, okay? I. Lack. Confidence. I may have a lot of people fooled, and I can't believe I'm admitting it, but I don't feel confident in a lot of the things I do. Hence the trusty issues.
Then we get to the second part of the verse. (Sorry this is getting so long...I'll hurry it up...) Know what I think of? Waterfalls in Hawaii that I saw on "Atlas" yesterday on Netflix. (I love the Discovery Channel.) Huge, roaring waterfalls that flow in to crystalline bodies of pure, unadulterated water. The kind you can drink without a filter and not get weird parasites that eat your liver and your brain. That's what I think of when I think of overflowing with hope. And, not by my power, but by the Holy Spirit.
The Holy Spirit is something that freaks some people out...I know I used to be weirded out by it myself. I have been learning about what it is more and more over the last few years, and it has made me fall more in love with God. The Holy Spirit is what was at work when I hit the ground at 32 feet per second, but still had this amazing sense of peace that penetrated my bones. It was what was at work when the person I was climbing with that night & someone else we had just met bent down to pray with me in the middle of gym, and stuck by my side through the night & into my journey. It was what was at work when the orthopedic surgeon was magically able to operate the very next morning, and feel hopeful after he was done performing the surgeries that were supposed to keep me in the hospital for two weeks & not five days. It's what enabled me to have joy and peace in the midst of an immense amount of pain and suffering. It's what spurred the thought of a sister to send such a verse to someone like me who needed to hear it. It's what a lot of people would call "coincidence".
The Holy Spirit is a role model for perseverance, working hard, and giving grace. It's not some mysterious flame over a candle floating in the sky. It's not something that can be tamed by people - in fact, just the opposite. It's undefinable, in a way. Always on the move. The Bible talks about how it intercedes for us "with groans that words cannot express." But it's something that Jesus gave to his followers as a gift, a deposit as he was leaving for heaven. And, it's something that we are called to depend on as we learn more and more about it. I look at it as God's way of not abandoning us, leaving us like orphans in a dark & sometimes dismal world. (Do you know what dismal means? Dismal: causing gloom or dejection; gloomy; dreary; cheerless; melancholy) Passive.
So, through the power of the Holy Spirit, (not that weird of a thing, and yet, kind of at the same time) I pray this for you, just as Paul did to the church in Rome (a very dark and dismal place): May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Read it again.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Trust. In Him.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Compassion.
Ellis Hobbs. He's the defensive back for the Philidelphia Eagles. The Eagles are a pretty obscure team in my mind, but I was watching it tonight because I've taken a growing interest in football ever since I watched the Bears beat the Packers in September. Tonight, Mr. Hobbs sustained a neck injury, and I watched it all go down. As I was watching him I felt so bad because I could really relate!
When I fell, (nearly three weeks ago), a lot of people were watching me. I spent about 15 or 20 seconds trying to figure out how to get down, when the sweat on my palms caused me to lose grip. By that time, a small crowd had gathered around where I was climbing & I was drawing the attention of quite a few people around me. So, when I fell, some people screamed & such - it's scarily vivid in my brain. Could you imagine having an entire stadium, and a whole state watching you while you get hurt?! Ugh. No thank you. I also felt bad for him because he wanted to get back up, but those paramedics, man, they mean business. No can do. It's hard for me to sit still, and I was wiggling my head around; I kept getting yelled at by the guys who were taking me in. I knew at the time that I hadn't hurt anything above my kneecaps, but they had to make sure. I actually got strapped to one of those board-things. And ride in an ambulance. A life dream. I'm so thankful not to have any neck or back injuries. None, whatsoever - it's amazing, isn't it.
Tonight, I was able to attend my little sister's orchestra concert. She plays the violin, and it always fabulous to hear her play. We went to this teeny tiny place called the "Raue". We went with my grandma, who is able to walk in large crowds with the assistance of a walker. My dad said, "We've got one who can't stand up, and one who can't sit down"...it's true. It was comical. My parents were like ringleaders in a circus. It was a big deal. So, I get wheeled into the lobby of the Raue, and everybody is dressed up for this performance. It's amazing how quickly people notice the wheelchair, and the loopy looking chick in pajama pants. I get so embarassed when people stare at me. I don't know why I'm so self-concious, I always have been. And now my legs are up in the air all of the time. People can see my toes, and they are orange.
And they stared. One usher followed us around everywhere. He really, really wanted to help. He actually was giving my dad advice on how to push the chair, and to "not go to fast", and "oh, we're okay". As we passed each person, I just couldn't help but laugh. Now I'm the loopy chick in a wheelchair, in pajama pants that's laughing to herself. I want people to know that I'm happy to be where I am, and a smile is the quickest way to communicate that. I like smiling. A lot of old people are particularly interested in why I'm "chaired", and I like old people too. I just mouth, "Rock climbing", and everyone nods in understanding. I feel like people are nicer to me, and more patient when I'm in it. It's so bizzare. And, I'm pretty sure I'm not just making all of this up. I have witnesses. But, what I really want to communicate is that I trust in a God who is in control, and that I have joy, even when it feels like an elephant is standing on my feet. And, unfortunately, tonight it did because I forgot to take my nerve pill this afternoon. (It's those stinkin' naps!)
Sometimes I wonder what Jesus did to attract so much attention. Like, do you think he had an angelic glow everywhere he went? I don't think his beard was exceptionally long, or that he had huge feet. His clothes were run-of-the-mill carpenter's clothes. Maybe he smelled like wood? (A good mosquito repellant...) The cross necklace hadn't been invented yet, so he wasn't dangling some Flavor Flav bling. He did travel with a large group of men; maybe they were noisy? I seriously think people were drawn to Jesus because of his posture in life. He was humble, but he was confident in who he was created to be. He was full of compassion, but he carried the truth. He was welcoming, and gentle, especially to little kids.
Matthew talks about the "crowd" in chapter 14. "When Jesus heard what had happened [his cousin John had been killed], he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick."
I can't imagine needing to get away to be alone with God, and not being able to. I would get so frustrated with the people that were following me around. I'd freak out at people staring at me; "What are you lookin' at?" Instead Jesus looks at the crowd of scared, lonely, angry, and unsensitive people (who might be looking at him in criticism and curiosity, waiting to see his next miracle), and he has compassion on them.
I'm not saying that I need to walk around piously next time I go out in public. I use walk loosely. Usually the compassionate stare is directed at me. And, I am blessed with the time and ability to be able to withdraw to solitary places for chunks of time, and I'm thankful for that. The pressure isn't as great for me...I can still hide in my mini-van drinking a soy hot chocolate with no whip from the Bucks. But, the connection that I made was that instead of shrinking back because people stare at me, I want to be like Jesus. I want to communicate him to the people around me, even though they might be staring in judgement. Instead of getting frustrated or freaking out, I want to see people the way that Jesus sees people: with compassion.
When I fell, (nearly three weeks ago), a lot of people were watching me. I spent about 15 or 20 seconds trying to figure out how to get down, when the sweat on my palms caused me to lose grip. By that time, a small crowd had gathered around where I was climbing & I was drawing the attention of quite a few people around me. So, when I fell, some people screamed & such - it's scarily vivid in my brain. Could you imagine having an entire stadium, and a whole state watching you while you get hurt?! Ugh. No thank you. I also felt bad for him because he wanted to get back up, but those paramedics, man, they mean business. No can do. It's hard for me to sit still, and I was wiggling my head around; I kept getting yelled at by the guys who were taking me in. I knew at the time that I hadn't hurt anything above my kneecaps, but they had to make sure. I actually got strapped to one of those board-things. And ride in an ambulance. A life dream. I'm so thankful not to have any neck or back injuries. None, whatsoever - it's amazing, isn't it.
Tonight, I was able to attend my little sister's orchestra concert. She plays the violin, and it always fabulous to hear her play. We went to this teeny tiny place called the "Raue". We went with my grandma, who is able to walk in large crowds with the assistance of a walker. My dad said, "We've got one who can't stand up, and one who can't sit down"...it's true. It was comical. My parents were like ringleaders in a circus. It was a big deal. So, I get wheeled into the lobby of the Raue, and everybody is dressed up for this performance. It's amazing how quickly people notice the wheelchair, and the loopy looking chick in pajama pants. I get so embarassed when people stare at me. I don't know why I'm so self-concious, I always have been. And now my legs are up in the air all of the time. People can see my toes, and they are orange.
And they stared. One usher followed us around everywhere. He really, really wanted to help. He actually was giving my dad advice on how to push the chair, and to "not go to fast", and "oh, we're okay". As we passed each person, I just couldn't help but laugh. Now I'm the loopy chick in a wheelchair, in pajama pants that's laughing to herself. I want people to know that I'm happy to be where I am, and a smile is the quickest way to communicate that. I like smiling. A lot of old people are particularly interested in why I'm "chaired", and I like old people too. I just mouth, "Rock climbing", and everyone nods in understanding. I feel like people are nicer to me, and more patient when I'm in it. It's so bizzare. And, I'm pretty sure I'm not just making all of this up. I have witnesses. But, what I really want to communicate is that I trust in a God who is in control, and that I have joy, even when it feels like an elephant is standing on my feet. And, unfortunately, tonight it did because I forgot to take my nerve pill this afternoon. (It's those stinkin' naps!)
Sometimes I wonder what Jesus did to attract so much attention. Like, do you think he had an angelic glow everywhere he went? I don't think his beard was exceptionally long, or that he had huge feet. His clothes were run-of-the-mill carpenter's clothes. Maybe he smelled like wood? (A good mosquito repellant...) The cross necklace hadn't been invented yet, so he wasn't dangling some Flavor Flav bling. He did travel with a large group of men; maybe they were noisy? I seriously think people were drawn to Jesus because of his posture in life. He was humble, but he was confident in who he was created to be. He was full of compassion, but he carried the truth. He was welcoming, and gentle, especially to little kids.
Matthew talks about the "crowd" in chapter 14. "When Jesus heard what had happened [his cousin John had been killed], he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick."
I can't imagine needing to get away to be alone with God, and not being able to. I would get so frustrated with the people that were following me around. I'd freak out at people staring at me; "What are you lookin' at?" Instead Jesus looks at the crowd of scared, lonely, angry, and unsensitive people (who might be looking at him in criticism and curiosity, waiting to see his next miracle), and he has compassion on them.
I'm not saying that I need to walk around piously next time I go out in public. I use walk loosely. Usually the compassionate stare is directed at me. And, I am blessed with the time and ability to be able to withdraw to solitary places for chunks of time, and I'm thankful for that. The pressure isn't as great for me...I can still hide in my mini-van drinking a soy hot chocolate with no whip from the Bucks. But, the connection that I made was that instead of shrinking back because people stare at me, I want to be like Jesus. I want to communicate him to the people around me, even though they might be staring in judgement. Instead of getting frustrated or freaking out, I want to see people the way that Jesus sees people: with compassion.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Plan.
Today is Saturday. Saturday is a good day, isn't it? Every day is a good day, I hope that you know I'm just kidding around, but Saturday is the cushiony day where you can sometimes sleep in or be as busy as you want. It's your call. When I was a youngun I looked forward to Disney's One Saturday Morning. PepperAnn was some cool stuff. And Recess. Oh Recess. My family has this tradition where we always make a big breakfast. And by "we" I mean my parents. Ha ha. This morning I had the honor of test-driving some pretty radical gluten-free pancakes. Be jealous. Then, the day is usually jam-packed...time with friends, ultimate frisbee, kids at games & concerts & IMEA & practices & at friends houses & babysitting, yardwork, or maybe work work. I love going to the farmer's market on Saturdays, and taking long walks, even if it's in the snow. The dogs I live with like Saturdays because it means a guaranteed trip to "Bark Park", a six (or so) acre strech of grassy goodness to frollick and spring upon. They're Springers, in case you didn't know. They like to spring. Today was kind of nippy, or so the cool coming from my window tells me, so I really have no idea what might have happened on this day because I still think that it's fall outside, when I really hear that winter is fast approaching. No ultimate frisbee, I assume.
To make the variable even greater, the night falls now at like, 4:00pm. It seriously starts getting dark then, if you didn't know. I contemplate every evening why we still practice Daylight Savings Time. Why? Once it gets dark, I always think about what people around the world are doing right now. It's this funny thing I do all the time. I started doing it when my dad came home from Malaysia some fifteen years ago, and talked about how people half-way around the world are "sleeping right now." Technically, half of the world is asleep at any given moment. Some people are resting this evening in Illinois. And Wiscosin. Most members of my household are already asleep! It's ten Post Meridien people! Others in my household are watching movies. (Personally, I think Netflix stinks.) Still others are out and about, hopping from place to place. Flights back to Dallas, babysitting, Irish Dancing, finishing up presentations, or dumping my pee in the "real toilet" (for you, Dad.)
Saturdays are good days, but they sometimes hold unexpected things. There isn't always a routine for Saturdays, like there might be during the week. For some people, they like routine, and Saturdays might hold one for them. Me, I'm pretty flexible. Let me just say that I've cried and cried in my lifetime about not being enough of a planner, but flexibility really comes in handy when both of your crurals are out of order. (Look crural up. It's good word.) Plans are always changing and evolving, especially in my family. I think it's just the nature of a family of six. Seven or eight depending on the day. Six peoples schedules are all trying to smush together at one time, and it just gets nuts. Luckily, one persons schedule is out of order, but the other five are still INSANE. Only one uses Google Calendar. And this one is convinced that it will solve all of our scheduley problems. But no one else believes this person. Poor person. They are so singled out.
The plans for today went differently than I had imagined in my head. I pictured: wake up early, have breakfast, visit with friends, have lunch with aunt from Dallas and my peeps, aka chill with family, go to cool performance with sibling and woman who gave birth to me, come home, go to church, read, watch a movie, blog, go to bed. It didn't quite happen that way though. The morning ran a little later than I had anticipated which made me nervous, and I ended up having to stay home for the evening because of timing and traffic and the inability to get into a car. I can't read these days because I'm so tired all the time, and I fell asleep, which I hate because I wake up, and I'm like Oscar the puffy-faced Grouch for the rest of the night and no one wants to be by me. And, I always go to bed way later than I want to.
I have a secret: I'm really a planner. Yikes. I don't like it when accidents happen. I don't like falling asleep when I don't want to, or missing out on time with people or God. As much as I don't want to admit it, I don't think I am as flexible as I think I am. I'm not as against-the-current as I imagine myself being. Weird, huh. I want to be different; this is a desire that many, many people have, but when you look at "people" in general, it's hard to be different. We're all people. And we all want to be different.
To continue with my "lessons from a movie" streak, I have a hybrid tonight. I watched "October Sky" this evening, and I watched "Elizabethtown" this afternoon. If you haven't seen either of them, I think they're really, really great movies. I'm trying to only watch one movie a day, but I had extra time by myself this evening, and it was either watch a movie or fall asleep again. Poop on that. No way I'm falling asleep again.
Anyway, we have had October sky for forever, I remember when it first came out. I was probably 12 or 13, and it made a huge impression on me. It's actually one of the reasons I wanted to become a teacher. Laura Dern is so inspring in the movie, and so beautiful, and Jake Gyllenhaal is a hunk. In the movie, Jake's character, Homer, doesn't want to be a coal miner like the rest of the townspeople. He and his friends "know" that it's their "destiny" to one day mine coal, but they put it off as long as they can. One day, Homer sees Sputnik shooting through the evening sky, and he catches this vision. A vision for building a rocket, and sending it into space. He knows nothing about how to do it, but just jumps in and starts building. The boys make major headway (after many, many failures) until his dad gets hurt. Homer has to start working in the coal mine to help his family. He starts to settle; he finally wins his father's approval, but his teacher is furious, his friends are leary, and he starts to let go of his vision. His destiny seems to come to fruition. (I won't spoil the ending, but he isn't stuck in the mine for long & he ends up work for something that starts with an "N" and ends with ASA. Do you think he planned on that?)
In Elizabethtown, the main character (also a hunk), fails miserably on a shoe design, costing his company close to a billion dollars. He contemplates suicide, but ends up finding out that his dad, from Kentucky, has died. In his travels, he meets this girl, and she helps him to find the positive side of things. My favorite line in the movie is where she tells him, "You failed" about twenty times in a row, but she does it with such honesty and grace and love. He decides to admit and the discard the failure, rather than dwelling on it forever. Do you think he planned on that?
You see, I can connect to both stories. I want to be someone who makes a difference in the lives of others. I'm just coming out and saying it - straight up. That is my desire. I think it causes me to wrestle though with my failure and with my pride and with my future, and with my insecurities and with the plans I've made. These things have been heavy on my heart for several days now. Dreams. Vision. Grace. Journey. Fear. Humility. Jobs. Plans. Over and over again, I keep thinking about the future, and sometimes I worry.
Both of these movies brought to mind this verse: "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you." Jeremiah 29:11-12
The first verse is highly quoted, and sometimes a little redundant (for people like me anyway who hear something many times, and forget what it means), but I wanted to share it anyway. It's one I've been seeing a lot in the cards I've received, and it has new meaning tonight. God has plans for our lives. Every single person on the earth, he has a plan for. The hard part is that we have to work at understanding what that plan is, and accept the challenges and blessings that come with it. The second part of the verse is much less familiar...I didn't know that part by heart.
Over and over again in Scripture, we see where Jesus calls out to his Father, sometimes in the middle of a fierce discussion with the religious leaders or others around him. He's constantly tuning his heart to that of the Father, and so, in turn, his plans are in tune as well. He listens to his Father. I mean, think about it. Jesus was a wanderer, but he was never lost. He always always always had direction in his life. He always knew what he needed to do. He knew where he needed to go. Why? The Father had a plan. The best part is that Jesus went. Without any hesitation. He listened to his Father.
Part of the reason that all of those "things" weigh so heavy on my heart and mind is because I'm not doing a very good job of listening. It's so hard. Sometimes I think I just don't know how. I mean, I can barely keep my thoughts in one place at any given time. It's fairly ridiculous actually. Please pray for me, that I would tune my heart to the Father's voice & that I can focus on hearing him in the coming weeks. I don't know that I believe in destiny, or predestination - I don't know enough about them to say. I don't like failure, and trying over and over again is hard. I can be pretty faint-hearted. What I do know is that I need to be a better listener & to continue being honest with God. I want to know his plan. Trusting that the Lord knows what he's doing at all times is very difficult because we have to surrender control, being still & knowing that He is God.
Jesus said, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” when he was about to give up his life. I struggle with how to cast vision for my life, and still stay in tune with God. This demeanor is one that I long for - complete and utter surrender. Jesus followed God's plan. Ultmately, he had to surrender his life in an extremely humble way, knowing that in the end he would die. That was God's plan. And yet, Jesus submitted to it. Just like always. But God's plan was to use that to redeem an entire race: humans. I'm so thankful that Jesus followed God's plan, even in the pain and hurt because I am blessed by that decision. Watching the process helps me to trust in God's plan, remember to call on him, go and pray to him, and give everything, every plan...and he will listen. My job is to listen right back.
To make the variable even greater, the night falls now at like, 4:00pm. It seriously starts getting dark then, if you didn't know. I contemplate every evening why we still practice Daylight Savings Time. Why? Once it gets dark, I always think about what people around the world are doing right now. It's this funny thing I do all the time. I started doing it when my dad came home from Malaysia some fifteen years ago, and talked about how people half-way around the world are "sleeping right now." Technically, half of the world is asleep at any given moment. Some people are resting this evening in Illinois. And Wiscosin. Most members of my household are already asleep! It's ten Post Meridien people! Others in my household are watching movies. (Personally, I think Netflix stinks.) Still others are out and about, hopping from place to place. Flights back to Dallas, babysitting, Irish Dancing, finishing up presentations, or dumping my pee in the "real toilet" (for you, Dad.)
Saturdays are good days, but they sometimes hold unexpected things. There isn't always a routine for Saturdays, like there might be during the week. For some people, they like routine, and Saturdays might hold one for them. Me, I'm pretty flexible. Let me just say that I've cried and cried in my lifetime about not being enough of a planner, but flexibility really comes in handy when both of your crurals are out of order. (Look crural up. It's good word.) Plans are always changing and evolving, especially in my family. I think it's just the nature of a family of six. Seven or eight depending on the day. Six peoples schedules are all trying to smush together at one time, and it just gets nuts. Luckily, one persons schedule is out of order, but the other five are still INSANE. Only one uses Google Calendar. And this one is convinced that it will solve all of our scheduley problems. But no one else believes this person. Poor person. They are so singled out.
The plans for today went differently than I had imagined in my head. I pictured: wake up early, have breakfast, visit with friends, have lunch with aunt from Dallas and my peeps, aka chill with family, go to cool performance with sibling and woman who gave birth to me, come home, go to church, read, watch a movie, blog, go to bed. It didn't quite happen that way though. The morning ran a little later than I had anticipated which made me nervous, and I ended up having to stay home for the evening because of timing and traffic and the inability to get into a car. I can't read these days because I'm so tired all the time, and I fell asleep, which I hate because I wake up, and I'm like Oscar the puffy-faced Grouch for the rest of the night and no one wants to be by me. And, I always go to bed way later than I want to.
I have a secret: I'm really a planner. Yikes. I don't like it when accidents happen. I don't like falling asleep when I don't want to, or missing out on time with people or God. As much as I don't want to admit it, I don't think I am as flexible as I think I am. I'm not as against-the-current as I imagine myself being. Weird, huh. I want to be different; this is a desire that many, many people have, but when you look at "people" in general, it's hard to be different. We're all people. And we all want to be different.
To continue with my "lessons from a movie" streak, I have a hybrid tonight. I watched "October Sky" this evening, and I watched "Elizabethtown" this afternoon. If you haven't seen either of them, I think they're really, really great movies. I'm trying to only watch one movie a day, but I had extra time by myself this evening, and it was either watch a movie or fall asleep again. Poop on that. No way I'm falling asleep again.
Anyway, we have had October sky for forever, I remember when it first came out. I was probably 12 or 13, and it made a huge impression on me. It's actually one of the reasons I wanted to become a teacher. Laura Dern is so inspring in the movie, and so beautiful, and Jake Gyllenhaal is a hunk. In the movie, Jake's character, Homer, doesn't want to be a coal miner like the rest of the townspeople. He and his friends "know" that it's their "destiny" to one day mine coal, but they put it off as long as they can. One day, Homer sees Sputnik shooting through the evening sky, and he catches this vision. A vision for building a rocket, and sending it into space. He knows nothing about how to do it, but just jumps in and starts building. The boys make major headway (after many, many failures) until his dad gets hurt. Homer has to start working in the coal mine to help his family. He starts to settle; he finally wins his father's approval, but his teacher is furious, his friends are leary, and he starts to let go of his vision. His destiny seems to come to fruition. (I won't spoil the ending, but he isn't stuck in the mine for long & he ends up work for something that starts with an "N" and ends with ASA. Do you think he planned on that?)
In Elizabethtown, the main character (also a hunk), fails miserably on a shoe design, costing his company close to a billion dollars. He contemplates suicide, but ends up finding out that his dad, from Kentucky, has died. In his travels, he meets this girl, and she helps him to find the positive side of things. My favorite line in the movie is where she tells him, "You failed" about twenty times in a row, but she does it with such honesty and grace and love. He decides to admit and the discard the failure, rather than dwelling on it forever. Do you think he planned on that?
You see, I can connect to both stories. I want to be someone who makes a difference in the lives of others. I'm just coming out and saying it - straight up. That is my desire. I think it causes me to wrestle though with my failure and with my pride and with my future, and with my insecurities and with the plans I've made. These things have been heavy on my heart for several days now. Dreams. Vision. Grace. Journey. Fear. Humility. Jobs. Plans. Over and over again, I keep thinking about the future, and sometimes I worry.
Both of these movies brought to mind this verse: "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you." Jeremiah 29:11-12
The first verse is highly quoted, and sometimes a little redundant (for people like me anyway who hear something many times, and forget what it means), but I wanted to share it anyway. It's one I've been seeing a lot in the cards I've received, and it has new meaning tonight. God has plans for our lives. Every single person on the earth, he has a plan for. The hard part is that we have to work at understanding what that plan is, and accept the challenges and blessings that come with it. The second part of the verse is much less familiar...I didn't know that part by heart.
Over and over again in Scripture, we see where Jesus calls out to his Father, sometimes in the middle of a fierce discussion with the religious leaders or others around him. He's constantly tuning his heart to that of the Father, and so, in turn, his plans are in tune as well. He listens to his Father. I mean, think about it. Jesus was a wanderer, but he was never lost. He always always always had direction in his life. He always knew what he needed to do. He knew where he needed to go. Why? The Father had a plan. The best part is that Jesus went. Without any hesitation. He listened to his Father.
Part of the reason that all of those "things" weigh so heavy on my heart and mind is because I'm not doing a very good job of listening. It's so hard. Sometimes I think I just don't know how. I mean, I can barely keep my thoughts in one place at any given time. It's fairly ridiculous actually. Please pray for me, that I would tune my heart to the Father's voice & that I can focus on hearing him in the coming weeks. I don't know that I believe in destiny, or predestination - I don't know enough about them to say. I don't like failure, and trying over and over again is hard. I can be pretty faint-hearted. What I do know is that I need to be a better listener & to continue being honest with God. I want to know his plan. Trusting that the Lord knows what he's doing at all times is very difficult because we have to surrender control, being still & knowing that He is God.
Jesus said, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” when he was about to give up his life. I struggle with how to cast vision for my life, and still stay in tune with God. This demeanor is one that I long for - complete and utter surrender. Jesus followed God's plan. Ultmately, he had to surrender his life in an extremely humble way, knowing that in the end he would die. That was God's plan. And yet, Jesus submitted to it. Just like always. But God's plan was to use that to redeem an entire race: humans. I'm so thankful that Jesus followed God's plan, even in the pain and hurt because I am blessed by that decision. Watching the process helps me to trust in God's plan, remember to call on him, go and pray to him, and give everything, every plan...and he will listen. My job is to listen right back.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Reveal.
So, last night I was whomped, and went to bed semi-early. Today, I woke up at 11am. I have no idea what is going on, but I have been so tired lately. I tried to read this afternoon, but I kept dozing off. So, I decided to watch a movie. One movie turned into three. Yup. I'm ashamed to even admit it, but I wasted nearly six hours of my life today. Fortunately, one of the movies sort of redeems the day because it was semi-educational. It was a movie about a young woman named Esther. Anyway, this was my cheesy-Christian-movie-of-the-year numero dos (number two). It's funny how I'm actually being challenged in watching these movies. I think I may be a little judgemental when it comes to faith-based movies. I should probably lay off a little bit, huh. In this big, dramatic scene Esther, (who I'm not sure if she's supposed to be British in the movie) says this to her (best actor in the movie) bodyguard,
"It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings." (Proverbs 25:2)
Yesterday I had blogged about not knowing what my dreams are in life. I think that God gives us passions and a vision for who we are, and what we are to do, but an answer came within this very movie: I have to spend time seeking it out. Often times I think that the clouds will open up, and God will just say, "Catie, I want you to work for the DNR (Department of Natural Resources); you can spend the rest of your life frollicking around in Montana being a moutain woman. Enjoy. Sincerely, God."
Yes. This is one of my life dreams, and I've never told anybody, so don't laugh at me. I would love to be a mountain woman. I seriously thought at one point that I could just go and work for some governmental program, possibly teaching kids about the wilderness, and get to spend most of my life hiding away in some cabin in the middle of the woods. As a hermit and spinster. Yup. Then I realized that I only wanted this dream because I really wanted to escape from everything that was going on around me, and I would go stir-crazy within the first year. I probably wouldn't even make it that long. I'd be talking to bunnies and chipmunks with a month. The first time I saw a grizzly, I'd pee myself & it would view that as a territorial threat display, and I'd die. So. That's out. (For now...unless I meet someone or some people that will move out there with me. Any takers?)
But seriously, since I was little, I've been fed this lie - that I can wish upon a star & my dreams will come true. I mean, come on Disney, what are you THINKING?! Billions of dollars is not worth brainwashing young kids the way you do. Ugh. I keep waiting for my dreams to come to me while I'm sleeping, or while I'm laying in bed thinking, or while I'm talking to someone, or when my fairy-godmother shows up and gives them to me, and I ride away into the sunset with a drop-dead gorgeous man beside me. To be quite honest, as a twenty-three, almost twenty-four year old woman, I have to fight of these misconceptions. They're quite tempting, you know.
The thing is that my dreams can't come from other people, or from the middle of nowhere (although, it would be nice.) My dreams have to be searched out, like I'm searching for hidden treasure. And, although it sometimes feels like that treasure is in the bottom of a body of water...the ocean. Atlantis, actually. And I have no boat. Oh, and I get seasick. And I'm deathly afraid of sharks...I know that I have to keep searching. The best part is that God gets so excited when I look that hard; when I care enough about our relationship, my life, and our future together, that I actually venture out in pursuit. Thank goodness he's with me, all the way. I don't think he's going to run ahead of me, and start jumping up and down on top of the treasure chest, but he will be my guide, and he's faithful. To the very, very end.
So, thanks "One Night With the King", for teaching me that.
Wow.
I can't even believe those words are coming out of my mouth. Blech! No more crazy-cheesy, bad-acting, Christiany movies for me. But I promise not to judge? Heh. Heh heh. : )
"It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings." (Proverbs 25:2)
Yesterday I had blogged about not knowing what my dreams are in life. I think that God gives us passions and a vision for who we are, and what we are to do, but an answer came within this very movie: I have to spend time seeking it out. Often times I think that the clouds will open up, and God will just say, "Catie, I want you to work for the DNR (Department of Natural Resources); you can spend the rest of your life frollicking around in Montana being a moutain woman. Enjoy. Sincerely, God."
Yes. This is one of my life dreams, and I've never told anybody, so don't laugh at me. I would love to be a mountain woman. I seriously thought at one point that I could just go and work for some governmental program, possibly teaching kids about the wilderness, and get to spend most of my life hiding away in some cabin in the middle of the woods. As a hermit and spinster. Yup. Then I realized that I only wanted this dream because I really wanted to escape from everything that was going on around me, and I would go stir-crazy within the first year. I probably wouldn't even make it that long. I'd be talking to bunnies and chipmunks with a month. The first time I saw a grizzly, I'd pee myself & it would view that as a territorial threat display, and I'd die. So. That's out. (For now...unless I meet someone or some people that will move out there with me. Any takers?)
But seriously, since I was little, I've been fed this lie - that I can wish upon a star & my dreams will come true. I mean, come on Disney, what are you THINKING?! Billions of dollars is not worth brainwashing young kids the way you do. Ugh. I keep waiting for my dreams to come to me while I'm sleeping, or while I'm laying in bed thinking, or while I'm talking to someone, or when my fairy-godmother shows up and gives them to me, and I ride away into the sunset with a drop-dead gorgeous man beside me. To be quite honest, as a twenty-three, almost twenty-four year old woman, I have to fight of these misconceptions. They're quite tempting, you know.
The thing is that my dreams can't come from other people, or from the middle of nowhere (although, it would be nice.) My dreams have to be searched out, like I'm searching for hidden treasure. And, although it sometimes feels like that treasure is in the bottom of a body of water...the ocean. Atlantis, actually. And I have no boat. Oh, and I get seasick. And I'm deathly afraid of sharks...I know that I have to keep searching. The best part is that God gets so excited when I look that hard; when I care enough about our relationship, my life, and our future together, that I actually venture out in pursuit. Thank goodness he's with me, all the way. I don't think he's going to run ahead of me, and start jumping up and down on top of the treasure chest, but he will be my guide, and he's faithful. To the very, very end.
So, thanks "One Night With the King", for teaching me that.
Wow.
I can't even believe those words are coming out of my mouth. Blech! No more crazy-cheesy, bad-acting, Christiany movies for me. But I promise not to judge? Heh. Heh heh. : )
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Dreams.
I am so tired right now. I'm about to fall asleep on top of my computer. I can't wait to dream tonight, and to enjoy the gift of sleep. Throughout my journey, I've been so thankful that I have been able to sleep through the night. I love sleeping. Sleeping is so good, and it's definitely something that I do not take for granted.
The dreams that I thought about today were not the kind that you have at night. I watched "The Ultimate Gift" today, which really should be called, "The Ultimate Cheesy Christian Movie of the Year". But, you know, the cheesy movie won out in the end. I cried like a baby. There's this part where a little girl with cancer turns and asks the main character of the movie what his dreams are. And do you know what he says? "I don't know. I don't have any." That's the part that made me cry. I'm so insensitive and hard...I didn't cry at the part where the little girl dies, or the two main characters fall in love and make out at the end. No, no. I cry at the parts that I connect to. That's how I feel right now. I feel like I have goals in life - namely, to heal from where I'm at, and to be able to walk. To serve God well, in obedience & love. To follow the example of Christ, crossing social barriers and meeting the needs of those around me. To find my gifts and strengths & use them with joy and selflessness.
You know. Goals. But I have no dreams.
I used to be such a dreamer, but I became discouraged, and I gave up. I read Mark 9 today, and there is this verse that talks about belief. Jesus is coming down from a sort of "Holy Hike" with a few of his disciples (see Mark 9:1-10), and he sees some other disciples surrounded by a crowd. One man in the crowd turns to Jesus, and begs him to heal his son. He says [about his son],
"It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him. But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”
“‘If you can?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes.”
Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”
I really resonate with these verses. I find myself sometimes coming to God with partial belief. Why is that I believe he can do some things and not others? Why is it easier to surrender certain areas of my life than others? I come to God with so many "If you can"s. Truly believing that "everything is possible for one who believes" scares me. And so, I'm afraid to dream. I love it that the father in the story is immediately vulnerable with Jesus - "help me overcome my unbelief!"
Oh Father. How many times I've been scared to believe. That you are real, that you see me and you get me, and you know me, that you love me anyway, that you have plans for my life, that you want me to do well, and by your standards, that you are in control. Help me overcome my unbelief. Help me to dream again. I no longer want the "right answer" or to "get there" in life. In fact, I'm okay with letting go of the dreams that I used to dream. The things I've held on to that maybe you didn't want me to have. I want to know what makes you heart beat quicken, Father, and I want to go there. Not by the dreams of this world, this country, or this generation, but by what you say and think and dream. I want those dreams. Thank you for the time you've given me to heal and dream again.
The dreams that I thought about today were not the kind that you have at night. I watched "The Ultimate Gift" today, which really should be called, "The Ultimate Cheesy Christian Movie of the Year". But, you know, the cheesy movie won out in the end. I cried like a baby. There's this part where a little girl with cancer turns and asks the main character of the movie what his dreams are. And do you know what he says? "I don't know. I don't have any." That's the part that made me cry. I'm so insensitive and hard...I didn't cry at the part where the little girl dies, or the two main characters fall in love and make out at the end. No, no. I cry at the parts that I connect to. That's how I feel right now. I feel like I have goals in life - namely, to heal from where I'm at, and to be able to walk. To serve God well, in obedience & love. To follow the example of Christ, crossing social barriers and meeting the needs of those around me. To find my gifts and strengths & use them with joy and selflessness.
You know. Goals. But I have no dreams.
I used to be such a dreamer, but I became discouraged, and I gave up. I read Mark 9 today, and there is this verse that talks about belief. Jesus is coming down from a sort of "Holy Hike" with a few of his disciples (see Mark 9:1-10), and he sees some other disciples surrounded by a crowd. One man in the crowd turns to Jesus, and begs him to heal his son. He says [about his son],
"It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him. But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”
“‘If you can?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes.”
Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”
I really resonate with these verses. I find myself sometimes coming to God with partial belief. Why is that I believe he can do some things and not others? Why is it easier to surrender certain areas of my life than others? I come to God with so many "If you can"s. Truly believing that "everything is possible for one who believes" scares me. And so, I'm afraid to dream. I love it that the father in the story is immediately vulnerable with Jesus - "help me overcome my unbelief!"
Oh Father. How many times I've been scared to believe. That you are real, that you see me and you get me, and you know me, that you love me anyway, that you have plans for my life, that you want me to do well, and by your standards, that you are in control. Help me overcome my unbelief. Help me to dream again. I no longer want the "right answer" or to "get there" in life. In fact, I'm okay with letting go of the dreams that I used to dream. The things I've held on to that maybe you didn't want me to have. I want to know what makes you heart beat quicken, Father, and I want to go there. Not by the dreams of this world, this country, or this generation, but by what you say and think and dream. I want those dreams. Thank you for the time you've given me to heal and dream again.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Breathe.
Today was a beautiful day. There is no snow on the ground in IL. Yet. (Sorry Minnesota friends.) And so, my lovely wheelchair can cart me pretty much anywhere. My dad works, literally, across the street from my house, and (as he is the designated ramp engineer & operator) he was able to take me for a walk. It's funny because I'm really getting to know my dogs in a more intimate way. I'm, like, right at their level. I felt kind of like a pet, but in a good way. The sun shone down so brightly this afternoon - I felt my Vitamin D levels bouncin' back. My friend, who came over tonight, said I even got a tan. ; ) In my dreams. She just came back from Florida. Too bad being tan isn't contagious.
I was thinking this afternoon about how blessed I am to be able to go out and enjoy the sun, and the fresh air. To be able to see everything around me, and to hear what's going on. All of my senses are intact, and to me, it's a miracle. Breathing is something that I highly value as an asthmatic, and because I haven't had any wheat or milk for two and half weeks (a personal record), I can breathe very well! The air smelled so sweet, I couldn't even believe it. It felt like I was drinking in invisible Dr. Pepper.
I once heard that the average person breathes in and out 12 times per minute. And that's when they are relaxed. Crazy-loopy-awesome breathing specialists say that you should be breathing about 6 times per minute. And, if you watch babies, they instinctively know how to breathe - from the diaphram. You'll see their stomachs rise up and down, up and down. Adults usually breathe using the upper parts of their chest. We don't naturally breathe from the gut anymore; we actually forget how to breathe. If you breathe 6 times per minute instead of the average 12, some people say that you can decrease your stress level & blood pressure, focus the mind, and release endorphins. Everyone likes endorphins.
There is this guy named Rob Bell (some people are on board with the things he believes, and some aren't, but just stick with me.) He has this video series called, "Nooma" (another word for the Holy Spirit, I believe, but spelled incorrectly.) Anyway, the only video in the entire series that I can remember (and I've seen a lot of them, mostly in college) is the one called "Breathe" or "Air" or something like that. It had to do with oxygen. You get the idea.
I remember Rob talking about the idea that we worship God with every single breath that we take. Apparently, the origin of the word "Yahweh" is a vocalization of a breath-like sound. Yahweh is what God's people would say when they wanted to refer to God without saying...well...God. It was an extremely sacred and intimate sound for him...so close to his people that it was in their very breath. This video made such an impression on me because there truly are so many different ways to worship God. Breathing. Breathing deep. Stepping outside and seeing something beautiful no matter the circumstances. Holding the hand of someone who needs to feel held. Having compassion on others around you. Studying scripture together, and applying it to our lives. Dancing in the rain, or going for long walks on the beach & smiling because you know and trust that it was He who orchestrated it all. Worshipping God is bringing honor and glory to him. Giving him the credit.
Every single breath; I give you credit.
Job 32:8 says, "But it is the spirit in a person, the breath of the Almighty, that gives them understanding." It actually isn't Job speaking, but Elihu, a young man who is frustrated with some friends of Job. The story of Job is incredibly long and painful, but Elihu speaks truth and hope into the life of this man. He says that the breath of the Almighty is in a person, and it's what gives them understanding. The fact that something in your mind can come from something in your lungs is pretty crazy. And it's even crazier that the breath of GOD is entering your body as you read these words. At first, it actually kind of makes me uncomfortable. There haven't been many instances in my life where someone elses breath has entered my lungs. I can remember playing a game where you had to pass Lifesavers down a line using toothpicks in your mouths - I hated it. I could feel someone elses breath, and I breathed it in! It's kind of a big deal that the breath of the Creator of the Universe is entering my lungs right now. And now. And now.
Pretty crazy.
God, I ask that you would continue to breathe life into these lungs of mine. I long to worship you with every breath that I have; help me not to take them for granted. I acknowledge that you breathed life into my lungs when I took my very first breath, and I thank you that I can still breathe deep, resting in the knowledge of the fact that you see me. You understand me, and you give me understanding. You know me, more intimately than anyone can know me. Even myself. Even though my lungs are weak, I thank you that they are filled with your grace, your love, your patience, your freedom, and your hope. I find these things only in you, and they taste so sweet. You are so good to me. Yahweh.
I was thinking this afternoon about how blessed I am to be able to go out and enjoy the sun, and the fresh air. To be able to see everything around me, and to hear what's going on. All of my senses are intact, and to me, it's a miracle. Breathing is something that I highly value as an asthmatic, and because I haven't had any wheat or milk for two and half weeks (a personal record), I can breathe very well! The air smelled so sweet, I couldn't even believe it. It felt like I was drinking in invisible Dr. Pepper.
I once heard that the average person breathes in and out 12 times per minute. And that's when they are relaxed. Crazy-loopy-awesome breathing specialists say that you should be breathing about 6 times per minute. And, if you watch babies, they instinctively know how to breathe - from the diaphram. You'll see their stomachs rise up and down, up and down. Adults usually breathe using the upper parts of their chest. We don't naturally breathe from the gut anymore; we actually forget how to breathe. If you breathe 6 times per minute instead of the average 12, some people say that you can decrease your stress level & blood pressure, focus the mind, and release endorphins. Everyone likes endorphins.
There is this guy named Rob Bell (some people are on board with the things he believes, and some aren't, but just stick with me.) He has this video series called, "Nooma" (another word for the Holy Spirit, I believe, but spelled incorrectly.) Anyway, the only video in the entire series that I can remember (and I've seen a lot of them, mostly in college) is the one called "Breathe" or "Air" or something like that. It had to do with oxygen. You get the idea.
I remember Rob talking about the idea that we worship God with every single breath that we take. Apparently, the origin of the word "Yahweh" is a vocalization of a breath-like sound. Yahweh is what God's people would say when they wanted to refer to God without saying...well...God. It was an extremely sacred and intimate sound for him...so close to his people that it was in their very breath. This video made such an impression on me because there truly are so many different ways to worship God. Breathing. Breathing deep. Stepping outside and seeing something beautiful no matter the circumstances. Holding the hand of someone who needs to feel held. Having compassion on others around you. Studying scripture together, and applying it to our lives. Dancing in the rain, or going for long walks on the beach & smiling because you know and trust that it was He who orchestrated it all. Worshipping God is bringing honor and glory to him. Giving him the credit.
Every single breath; I give you credit.
Job 32:8 says, "But it is the spirit in a person, the breath of the Almighty, that gives them understanding." It actually isn't Job speaking, but Elihu, a young man who is frustrated with some friends of Job. The story of Job is incredibly long and painful, but Elihu speaks truth and hope into the life of this man. He says that the breath of the Almighty is in a person, and it's what gives them understanding. The fact that something in your mind can come from something in your lungs is pretty crazy. And it's even crazier that the breath of GOD is entering your body as you read these words. At first, it actually kind of makes me uncomfortable. There haven't been many instances in my life where someone elses breath has entered my lungs. I can remember playing a game where you had to pass Lifesavers down a line using toothpicks in your mouths - I hated it. I could feel someone elses breath, and I breathed it in! It's kind of a big deal that the breath of the Creator of the Universe is entering my lungs right now. And now. And now.
Pretty crazy.
God, I ask that you would continue to breathe life into these lungs of mine. I long to worship you with every breath that I have; help me not to take them for granted. I acknowledge that you breathed life into my lungs when I took my very first breath, and I thank you that I can still breathe deep, resting in the knowledge of the fact that you see me. You understand me, and you give me understanding. You know me, more intimately than anyone can know me. Even myself. Even though my lungs are weak, I thank you that they are filled with your grace, your love, your patience, your freedom, and your hope. I find these things only in you, and they taste so sweet. You are so good to me. Yahweh.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Rest.
Today was a restful day.
I'm pooped though! Ha ha. Contridiction, eh? Seriously though. Laying in bed all day is exhausting. I feel so ridiculous saying that, but it's true. Although, in my defense, I think I can feel my white bloodcells in action. No, really. They're wiggling around ferociously in my legs. And it's not the extremely bizarre case of bedbugs that seem to be going around Illinois, I promise (although, the first night I was off of my morphine, I felt a bug in my cast. It was one of the scariest things I've experienced on this journey so far. And then I hear about bed bugs. Oi. I don't think it was real, but I was freaked.) My body is in over-drive, and I'm so thankful. Like, when I touch my legs, they are warm. I'm alive. And, I can wiggle my toes more and more each day! People keep praying for a quick recovery, and my body is literally responding, by the grace of God.
This morning I woke up at 6am ( I love it when that happens), and I could not go back to bed (no really, I love it when that happens). So, I watched the three episodes of Community that I missed in the last few weeks (love that show), and started writing thank you notes to all of the wonderful people that have brought us dinner over the last two weeks (love those people). 10am rolls around, and I'm tired, but instead of just falling asleep, I had the privilege of singing and worshipping for a few minutes alongside of my good friends Brooke, Chris, and Hillsong peeps whose names I can't remember (love them too). It always amazes me how singing and listening to music can just usher me into the presence of my Creator. I fell asleep feeling curled up in his arms - warm, safe, invited; I wouldn't trade that moment for anything.
Even though I hate napping, I love the feeling of being so close to God. Rest is found in his presence. I'm so thankful that Jesus paved the way for us, and that He allows us to come and lay before his throne. One song I haven't heard in a while goes like this, "Here I am to worship, here I am to bow down, here I am to say that you're my God. You're altogether lovely, altogether worthy, altogether wonderful to me." It so encapsulated what I wanted to express to God, and when that happens, I feel so excited and so connected. (And, on a more musical note (ha ha), the emphasis is on the italicized words. Literally, when you sing the song, you hang onto the italicized words for a longer period of time. Cool, huh?!)
Anyway, speaking of a wonderful God, I got to reading Matthew 11 today. It is an interesting and emotional chapter in the Bible. Not all of it is restful; in the beginning, Jesus' cousin, John the Baptist, is in jail (because he was considered a crazy head), and he asks Jesus if he's the Messiah via some of his followers. Because he's in jail. You can't get out of jail to talk to people. Jesus responds and says, "The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.” Jesus was a really wise dude. Sometimes I do stumble on what he says, but I love him for it, and deeply admire this trait of being able to give a completely truthful answer no matter who's around.
I can literally connect to these verses: Jesus is like the glasses I have to wear so I can see three feet in front of me; I have been cleansed of so many illnesses (thank goodness they weren't leprosy, and thank goodness I didn't live in Jesus' time because I would have hated to be alone & outside of the city); I have been deaf for much of my life & I can now hear; I have felt very poor (even though "poor" is an extremely relative term - ask me about it sometime) & I have seen God's provision. And...I'm really looking forward to walking again. Call me lame if you want, but I can't wait to get my butt back. Ha ha. Get it? Luckily I've never been raised from the dead. It would stinky.
: D Lighten UP people!
I also love love love those verses because I have been redeemed by this Messiah; there is such good news in Jesus. "Good news" seems like such a Christiany thing to say or hear, doesn't it? But when is the last time that you heard good news? For me, it was when I found out my little sister had bought her plane ticket home for Thanksgiving, and that she wasn't going to try to fly standby. So I'll actually get to see her. It was good news. Jesus' life, and his death are good news. Like hearing that your daughter broke her legs, but she isn't dead. Or maybe it's that your granddaughter has been born, or that your friend has been proposed to (or maybe you know when the proposing is going to happen). Maybe it's that you got that A you worked really hard for. Or...didn't work hard for. Maybe it's the job that you got, or the one that you can quit. Maybe it's that the cancer is in remission, or maybe it's that when the cancer patient dies, you know they are in heaven because they were in love with Jesus. For the guy that I met in the hospital the other day, it was that he and his wife were going to be able to live out their lives normally even though their motorcycle had flipped three times in the middle of a New York freeway.
Good news can be found throughout our lives. Jesus. Is good news.
So, all of the people who were all up in Jesus' grill overheard what he had said to John, and he starts asking them what they want. Not in a defensive or snarky way, but he's still trying to get them to see who he is. Trying to get them to see what their motives are. There is good news, right? They couldn't see it. Or hear it. Or smell it. Can you imagine?! The Messiah is standing inches away from them, and they just don't get it. (Sometimes I wonder if I would have been one of them. Too busy to change my lifestyle because it took me an hour everyday just to get water for my whole family, or too hot to really care & think about what Jesus was saying. I may have just left the posse because I had to pee.) You can see Jesus get frustrated with the very people that he has performed miracles in front of (their eyes had seen, their ears had heard, their noses could smell, but their hearts were hard); there is this major progression of emotions. Then, he says this:
At that time Jesus said, [see, told you.] “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this is what you were pleased to do. All things have been committed to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Can you believe he ends with this? In music terms, we call it a crescendo. Build, build, bui...wait, what? Jesus stops. Everything he's doing & saying. He just starts talking to his Father. He starts praising him unabashedly in front of everyone. He acknowledges the Sovereignty of his dad. This HUGE crescendo that doesn't make "sense": He invites the people in front of him in. He so longs to give them rest; he can see the sunken eyes (in my case, with the bags underneath), he can see into the hearts of the ones who are so busy or so fearful or so worried or so sad or so angry or so confused or so caught up in everything around them. And he says, "Come." "Rest." "Learn from me." "Be like me." "Come, see who I really am."
I trust God. Better in some moments than in others. It's hard. It's really, really hard. Mostly because I have trust issues. We all do. But, when I think about what has happened over the past two weeks (I can't believe it's been that long), I keep going back to trust. When I can trust, I can rest. When I can hand my baggage over to Jesus, I can rest. When I actually let go, I can rest. When I allow Jesus to lead, I can rest. Jesus truly is gentle and humble - it was engraved into his very nature, in his posture, and in the way that he lived & moved & breathed. Even when I think about hitting the ground of an indoor rock climbing gym, I think of a gentle Jesus. Truly, it was a gentle way of showing me that I need to rest well. (Among other things...but we'll come to those later, right? : ) My housemate used to say to me every night before I would go to bed, "Rest well, Catie."
Rest isn't just found in a nap. Rest is found deep down in our very being, in our souls, because we are or have been weary and burdened. But we can come to Him, even when it is humbling. I am trying to learn to be like this Jesus, caring about the things he cared about. Passionate about the things he was passionate about. Sad about the things he was sad about. Gentle with the things he was gentle with. Resting in his truth because he rested in His Father. The Truth.
Rest well, my friends. May you rest in Him.
I'm pooped though! Ha ha. Contridiction, eh? Seriously though. Laying in bed all day is exhausting. I feel so ridiculous saying that, but it's true. Although, in my defense, I think I can feel my white bloodcells in action. No, really. They're wiggling around ferociously in my legs. And it's not the extremely bizarre case of bedbugs that seem to be going around Illinois, I promise (although, the first night I was off of my morphine, I felt a bug in my cast. It was one of the scariest things I've experienced on this journey so far. And then I hear about bed bugs. Oi. I don't think it was real, but I was freaked.) My body is in over-drive, and I'm so thankful. Like, when I touch my legs, they are warm. I'm alive. And, I can wiggle my toes more and more each day! People keep praying for a quick recovery, and my body is literally responding, by the grace of God.
This morning I woke up at 6am ( I love it when that happens), and I could not go back to bed (no really, I love it when that happens). So, I watched the three episodes of Community that I missed in the last few weeks (love that show), and started writing thank you notes to all of the wonderful people that have brought us dinner over the last two weeks (love those people). 10am rolls around, and I'm tired, but instead of just falling asleep, I had the privilege of singing and worshipping for a few minutes alongside of my good friends Brooke, Chris, and Hillsong peeps whose names I can't remember (love them too). It always amazes me how singing and listening to music can just usher me into the presence of my Creator. I fell asleep feeling curled up in his arms - warm, safe, invited; I wouldn't trade that moment for anything.
Even though I hate napping, I love the feeling of being so close to God. Rest is found in his presence. I'm so thankful that Jesus paved the way for us, and that He allows us to come and lay before his throne. One song I haven't heard in a while goes like this, "Here I am to worship, here I am to bow down, here I am to say that you're my God. You're altogether lovely, altogether worthy, altogether wonderful to me." It so encapsulated what I wanted to express to God, and when that happens, I feel so excited and so connected. (And, on a more musical note (ha ha), the emphasis is on the italicized words. Literally, when you sing the song, you hang onto the italicized words for a longer period of time. Cool, huh?!)
Anyway, speaking of a wonderful God, I got to reading Matthew 11 today. It is an interesting and emotional chapter in the Bible. Not all of it is restful; in the beginning, Jesus' cousin, John the Baptist, is in jail (because he was considered a crazy head), and he asks Jesus if he's the Messiah via some of his followers. Because he's in jail. You can't get out of jail to talk to people. Jesus responds and says, "The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.” Jesus was a really wise dude. Sometimes I do stumble on what he says, but I love him for it, and deeply admire this trait of being able to give a completely truthful answer no matter who's around.
I can literally connect to these verses: Jesus is like the glasses I have to wear so I can see three feet in front of me; I have been cleansed of so many illnesses (thank goodness they weren't leprosy, and thank goodness I didn't live in Jesus' time because I would have hated to be alone & outside of the city); I have been deaf for much of my life & I can now hear; I have felt very poor (even though "poor" is an extremely relative term - ask me about it sometime) & I have seen God's provision. And...I'm really looking forward to walking again. Call me lame if you want, but I can't wait to get my butt back. Ha ha. Get it? Luckily I've never been raised from the dead. It would stinky.
: D Lighten UP people!
I also love love love those verses because I have been redeemed by this Messiah; there is such good news in Jesus. "Good news" seems like such a Christiany thing to say or hear, doesn't it? But when is the last time that you heard good news? For me, it was when I found out my little sister had bought her plane ticket home for Thanksgiving, and that she wasn't going to try to fly standby. So I'll actually get to see her. It was good news. Jesus' life, and his death are good news. Like hearing that your daughter broke her legs, but she isn't dead. Or maybe it's that your granddaughter has been born, or that your friend has been proposed to (or maybe you know when the proposing is going to happen). Maybe it's that you got that A you worked really hard for. Or...didn't work hard for. Maybe it's the job that you got, or the one that you can quit. Maybe it's that the cancer is in remission, or maybe it's that when the cancer patient dies, you know they are in heaven because they were in love with Jesus. For the guy that I met in the hospital the other day, it was that he and his wife were going to be able to live out their lives normally even though their motorcycle had flipped three times in the middle of a New York freeway.
Good news can be found throughout our lives. Jesus. Is good news.
So, all of the people who were all up in Jesus' grill overheard what he had said to John, and he starts asking them what they want. Not in a defensive or snarky way, but he's still trying to get them to see who he is. Trying to get them to see what their motives are. There is good news, right? They couldn't see it. Or hear it. Or smell it. Can you imagine?! The Messiah is standing inches away from them, and they just don't get it. (Sometimes I wonder if I would have been one of them. Too busy to change my lifestyle because it took me an hour everyday just to get water for my whole family, or too hot to really care & think about what Jesus was saying. I may have just left the posse because I had to pee.) You can see Jesus get frustrated with the very people that he has performed miracles in front of (their eyes had seen, their ears had heard, their noses could smell, but their hearts were hard); there is this major progression of emotions. Then, he says this:
At that time Jesus said, [see, told you.] “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this is what you were pleased to do. All things have been committed to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Can you believe he ends with this? In music terms, we call it a crescendo. Build, build, bui...wait, what? Jesus stops. Everything he's doing & saying. He just starts talking to his Father. He starts praising him unabashedly in front of everyone. He acknowledges the Sovereignty of his dad. This HUGE crescendo that doesn't make "sense": He invites the people in front of him in. He so longs to give them rest; he can see the sunken eyes (in my case, with the bags underneath), he can see into the hearts of the ones who are so busy or so fearful or so worried or so sad or so angry or so confused or so caught up in everything around them. And he says, "Come." "Rest." "Learn from me." "Be like me." "Come, see who I really am."
I trust God. Better in some moments than in others. It's hard. It's really, really hard. Mostly because I have trust issues. We all do. But, when I think about what has happened over the past two weeks (I can't believe it's been that long), I keep going back to trust. When I can trust, I can rest. When I can hand my baggage over to Jesus, I can rest. When I actually let go, I can rest. When I allow Jesus to lead, I can rest. Jesus truly is gentle and humble - it was engraved into his very nature, in his posture, and in the way that he lived & moved & breathed. Even when I think about hitting the ground of an indoor rock climbing gym, I think of a gentle Jesus. Truly, it was a gentle way of showing me that I need to rest well. (Among other things...but we'll come to those later, right? : ) My housemate used to say to me every night before I would go to bed, "Rest well, Catie."
Rest isn't just found in a nap. Rest is found deep down in our very being, in our souls, because we are or have been weary and burdened. But we can come to Him, even when it is humbling. I am trying to learn to be like this Jesus, caring about the things he cared about. Passionate about the things he was passionate about. Sad about the things he was sad about. Gentle with the things he was gentle with. Resting in his truth because he rested in His Father. The Truth.
Rest well, my friends. May you rest in Him.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Church.
Today is Sunday. Sunday is one of my favorite days (along with Friday, Saturday, and Wednesday) because you get to go to church to be encouraged by other people around you, serve others, learn more about the character of Jesus, and sing alongside of others. I love to sing. In case you didn't know.
Not going to church on Sunday morning is going to be a weird transition for me. Not being able to stand when invited is going to be weird for me. My mom came downstairs this morning, and I asked her what time she was going to be leaving (so I can time my potty breaks appropriately...), and she said, "You know, I thought we'd stay home this morning and have church with you." I seriously almost cried. I'm learning just how much of a people person I am. I am so relational, it's not even funny. Wanna make my day? Give me a hug, and hang out with me for a little while. I'm not that hard to win over. Hopefully, that's not pathetic. So we had church at home. I picked out a few songs on Grooveshark, and thought about what verses we could discuss. Church was supposed to start at 12, but some people weren't dressed yet & they take a long time. They were late. And the dogs in our service were being silly. We started at 12:30 instead.
My mom decided that I should pick a verse from my blog, and we would read it all together. She hasn't been reading it because (I think) it would probably be too emotional for her. (I can't imagine getting a call that your child has fallen from a wall; my dad tells his side of the story here: http://richardwollard.com/) I read 1 Peter 1:3-9 because it has been such an encouraging verse to me this week. Then she read Romans 5:3-5, which says, "Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us."
I talked about how I get stuck at the perseverance part, and even though I want the character of Christ, I don't often want to do the work or experience the things it takes to get there. Because I can be pretty stinkin' selfish. Sometimes I wonder if I'm skipping from suffering to hope. It's tempting right? Who wants to endure the suffering part? And who wants to persevere? And do you know what the character of Christ is based on? Humility. Look at Philippians 2:3-8:
"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:
Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross"
Death on a cross was a big deal, then and now. He made himself nothing, and even though he was God, he didn't consider himself God's equal! I just think that's amazing; that's what we are called to. Humilty. Anyway, mom kept talking about the hope part, so I decided I was going to read the whole "Hope" entry from a couple of days ago.
It was hard to read.
There is something about reading something outloud to people that really brings an element of vulnerability and truth. It really rang true. Every single day I feel so much hope, and I can't get over it! What better thing to celebrate at church? We have so much hope in Jesus. Then we sang one of my favorite songs, "Hosanna" by Brooke Fraser (search her name on Grooveshark if you've never heard it) and ended our service.
It was a great way to focus the day, and I felt so encouraged. It's cool to be able to worship God anywhere and anytime. We worship God in so many ways too: taking a breath is an act of worship in itself. Giving God credit for it is music to his ears. I'm also so thankful to still be able to serve God by sharing what he's teaching me. He totally knows what he's doing, and I'm thankful for that too.
Afterward, we left the house for an excursion to the store. I got to wheel around the entire place - it was so much fun! I had my legs propped up with two blankets and a pillow, was covered with a bright red blanket, had my wheelchair gloves on, and a huge smile on my face. People stared at me like I was from outer-space.
This was both humbling and funny to me. It was humbling because I think that I stare at people who are in wheelchairs too (much less someone who looked as dorky as I did), but I've never received the other end of the staring. It was funny because I just started waving at people, and they started to wave back and smile. I like to make people smile.
One guy just had to ask me what I had done. So I told him. I fell off a rock climbing wall. And do you know what he said to me? "And the moral of the story iiiiis?" I just wanted to be like, "Don't talk to mean strangers in the store when you're riding in a wheelchair because you have two broken legs, you punk." Instead I just smiled and tried to laugh. I can't even tell you how tempting it is to say something like, "I ran into a burning building and saved three children. On my way out the building collapsed and I broke both of my legs", or "I work for CIA, if I tell you, I'll have to kill you." Those explanations sound so much cooler.
But I had to go and fall off of a stupid wall. It's humbling, I tell you, very, very humbling. But that's what we're called to, right? Humility. I'm glad I didn't say anything snarky to that guy, and I won't lie about what actually happened, but it's hard. I mean, what if I did work for the CIA? ; )
Not going to church on Sunday morning is going to be a weird transition for me. Not being able to stand when invited is going to be weird for me. My mom came downstairs this morning, and I asked her what time she was going to be leaving (so I can time my potty breaks appropriately...), and she said, "You know, I thought we'd stay home this morning and have church with you." I seriously almost cried. I'm learning just how much of a people person I am. I am so relational, it's not even funny. Wanna make my day? Give me a hug, and hang out with me for a little while. I'm not that hard to win over. Hopefully, that's not pathetic. So we had church at home. I picked out a few songs on Grooveshark, and thought about what verses we could discuss. Church was supposed to start at 12, but some people weren't dressed yet & they take a long time. They were late. And the dogs in our service were being silly. We started at 12:30 instead.
My mom decided that I should pick a verse from my blog, and we would read it all together. She hasn't been reading it because (I think) it would probably be too emotional for her. (I can't imagine getting a call that your child has fallen from a wall; my dad tells his side of the story here: http://richardwollard.com/) I read 1 Peter 1:3-9 because it has been such an encouraging verse to me this week. Then she read Romans 5:3-5, which says, "Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us."
I talked about how I get stuck at the perseverance part, and even though I want the character of Christ, I don't often want to do the work or experience the things it takes to get there. Because I can be pretty stinkin' selfish. Sometimes I wonder if I'm skipping from suffering to hope. It's tempting right? Who wants to endure the suffering part? And who wants to persevere? And do you know what the character of Christ is based on? Humility. Look at Philippians 2:3-8:
"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:
Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross"
Death on a cross was a big deal, then and now. He made himself nothing, and even though he was God, he didn't consider himself God's equal! I just think that's amazing; that's what we are called to. Humilty. Anyway, mom kept talking about the hope part, so I decided I was going to read the whole "Hope" entry from a couple of days ago.
It was hard to read.
There is something about reading something outloud to people that really brings an element of vulnerability and truth. It really rang true. Every single day I feel so much hope, and I can't get over it! What better thing to celebrate at church? We have so much hope in Jesus. Then we sang one of my favorite songs, "Hosanna" by Brooke Fraser (search her name on Grooveshark if you've never heard it) and ended our service.
It was a great way to focus the day, and I felt so encouraged. It's cool to be able to worship God anywhere and anytime. We worship God in so many ways too: taking a breath is an act of worship in itself. Giving God credit for it is music to his ears. I'm also so thankful to still be able to serve God by sharing what he's teaching me. He totally knows what he's doing, and I'm thankful for that too.
Afterward, we left the house for an excursion to the store. I got to wheel around the entire place - it was so much fun! I had my legs propped up with two blankets and a pillow, was covered with a bright red blanket, had my wheelchair gloves on, and a huge smile on my face. People stared at me like I was from outer-space.
This was both humbling and funny to me. It was humbling because I think that I stare at people who are in wheelchairs too (much less someone who looked as dorky as I did), but I've never received the other end of the staring. It was funny because I just started waving at people, and they started to wave back and smile. I like to make people smile.
One guy just had to ask me what I had done. So I told him. I fell off a rock climbing wall. And do you know what he said to me? "And the moral of the story iiiiis?" I just wanted to be like, "Don't talk to mean strangers in the store when you're riding in a wheelchair because you have two broken legs, you punk." Instead I just smiled and tried to laugh. I can't even tell you how tempting it is to say something like, "I ran into a burning building and saved three children. On my way out the building collapsed and I broke both of my legs", or "I work for CIA, if I tell you, I'll have to kill you." Those explanations sound so much cooler.
But I had to go and fall off of a stupid wall. It's humbling, I tell you, very, very humbling. But that's what we're called to, right? Humility. I'm glad I didn't say anything snarky to that guy, and I won't lie about what actually happened, but it's hard. I mean, what if I did work for the CIA? ; )
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