spilled.

i made don's blog! great photography. check it out.

http://spilled.tumblr.com/

coffee at 70. yes please.

read this post. i like it a lot.

http://dwelldeep.net/?p=44

i also like roadtripping to denver with my brother. we're having a blast.

blah and beautiful.

i feel like there's a whole lot i could write about right now. so much has happened in the week or so that i've been home. 

my oldest brother, luke, got married last weekend. honestly, i thought it was going to be one of the hardest days of my life. there were just so many emotions involved. good news: the wedding day was perfect. it really could not have been better. it was one of the most intimate and worshipful ceremonies i've ever seen. as has been true throughout this entire season of grief, the anticipation was much worse than the actual event. in the anticipation, there was so much anxiety and fear and sorrow, but on the actual day there was a peace that "surpasses all understanding" (phil. 4.7). like my brother wrote in his blog, it's funny that we let ourselves freak out over and over again, when in reality, God has been nothing but faithful to us. 

so now, in the post-wedding days, our focus has turned to christmas. since the christmas season and nostalgia are somewhat of a package deal, and since i tend to be somewhat nostalgic, i'm usually all about the traditions, carols, and decorations, but for some reason, i just haven't been into it this year. our decorations are minimal because none of us were in the mood to decorate. mom wants to deviate from all traditions this year. (exhibit a: she's making mexican food for our christmas dinner.) and as far as carols go (not like rudolph, but like o holy night), i sat in our carols and candles service sunday night (usually the highlight of my year) and couldn't get excited about singing those songs. i'm not trying to sound like scrooge, i'm just trying to be honest about this funk i've been in.

i guess the bottom-line is that christmas #2 without dad has been tougher for me than the first. those of you that know me know that this doesn't mean i've been weeping and screaming, in fact, i haven't shed a tear (surprise). instead, it's just been this weird, underlying sadness that i can't seem to shake. and it's not the anxious anticipation i mentioned with the wedding, because it's not like a fear of christmas day...it's just...kinda blah. 

but good news: tonight was beautiful. our family adopted a family through buckner and delivered gifts and clothes to them tonight. this sweet hispanic family consisted of three little boys, a baby girl, and a single mom. they were so thankful and so joyful. tonight i understood the joy of christmas. it was good for us as a family to join together in serving other people. it was good to hug those kids. it was good to pray with them in their home. it was good to share hope and experience love. 

after tonight, my situation hasn't changed, but hopefully my focus has. it bothers me that the christmas carols don't excite me and that my heart just seems kinda removed from the christmas story, but when the feelings aren't there, i have to believe what i know to be true about the character of God. i have to believe he is my source of love, hope, joy and peace. and let's be honest, i have to think that he was probably more excited about us loving on a family in need than he was about us wearing christmas sweaters, holding candles, and singing "silent night." 

more later.

i'll write more later, but for now, read my brother's blog for thoughts from this weekend. he's a great writer. 

http://searchingbutnotlost.tumblr.com/post/64832826/weddings-and-stress

more thoughts on hope.

i'm still stuck on the concept of hope.

i'm reading a philip yancey book right now entitled "disappointment with god." i recommend it. in chapter 12 he talks about how hope is the deepest of human emotions--not just among believers, but throughout humanity. countless fairy tales and cartoons give us the message that there will be a happy ending. when faced with unimaginable tragedy or the common cold, most people have the mindset that it'll all work out, everything will be okay. 

yancey quotes tolkien's thoughts on the message of fairy tales: "[Fairy tale] does not deny the existence of...sorrow and failure: the possibility of theses is necessary to the joy of the deliverance; it denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat...giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief."

interesting. isn't that the hope given by the old testament prophets and believed by christians today--that the world will not end in "universal final defeat," but in Joy? but what about right now? sometimes the end of the world seems a little too far off. must i wait until the end of the world for answers to my questions about god or a solution to my being disappointed with him?

isaiah 63.9 tells of god's relationship with his people: "in all their distress he too was distressed, and the angel of his presence saved them. in his love and mercy he redeemed them; he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old."

i have a hard time believing that god is distressed when i'm distressed or that he carries me with love and mercy--not in the future, but right now. recently, a professor asked me what about me pleases jesus. i had a hard time answering her and honestly, i'm still thinking about her question. i have a hard time believing that jesus loves me and is pleased with me right now. i find myself thinking that he'll really love me when i quit wrestling with all these questions or when i quit being a crazy or when i figure out how to have faith or how to pray. 

but isn't the message of christmas, the hope of emmanuel, that god came to be with us in our everyday lives right now? like isaiah proclaims in isaiah 40.1, "comfort, comfort my people, says your god." MY people. YOUR god. there's a covenant relationship there. comfort, hope, peace available right now through the coming of jesus. do i believe that? rather, do i live like i believe that? 

the only hope.

in celebrating advent, this week is all about hope. i'm reading through an advent guide produced by buckner international. get it here: http://www.buckner.org/advent-daily.shtml

one of the readings in the advent guide this week was about the difference between hope and wishful thinking. i think too often my hope is less like unwavering assurance and more like wishful thinking. i guess it's a lack of faith or confidence, a struggle to believe, perhaps. 

hebrews 11.1 (esv): "now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."

i don't really know how to make the transition from wishful thinking to blessed assurance. any suggestions?

maybe bebo can help me out. he usually does. this song is on his newest cd. you should get it.

"the only hope"

i want to run, it's my nature to run

and i want to fight, it's my nature to fight

and i want to live, but you tell me to die

i have resolved that i'm much better off in your hands than mine

i'm begging you to hold on tight

begging you to hold on tight

begging you take my life from me

i want a crumb, but you are a feast

i want a song, but you are a symphony

i want a star, but you are a galaxy

and i have resolved that i'm much better off in what you have for me

i'm begging you to hold on tight

begging you to hold on tight

begging you to take my life from me

so tell me you won't let go

tell me you won't let go

cause you are the only hope for me

take my life from me, it's the only hope for me

take my life from me, it's the only hope for me

and i'll never want for more

i'll never want for more

i'm begging you to hold on tight

begging you to hold on tight

begging you to take my life from me

so tell me you won't let go

tell me you won't let go

cause you are the only hope for me

you're the only hope for me

yeah, you're the only hope for me

i especially love the verses of this song. they nail me in the way i think and relate with god. and then the chorus is this reminder that it's not really about me or the way i think. my desperate hope is really about him holding on to me, not the other way around. 

thankful.

thanksgiving is usually my favorite time of year. well, i think fall is my favorite season anyway, but thanksgiving is especially great. it's all the good things of christmas minus the materialism. it's the food, the family, the football, minus the frenzy. 

but for some reason, this year's was a little anti-climatic. i feel like it just came and went. don't get me wrong, i've loved being around my brothers and my mom, but somehow i missed the nostalgic memories and feelings of gratitude and warmth this year. i was okay without the nostalgia--i'm not to the point yet of remembering and being happy, and i wasn't in the mood to be sad--but i'm not okay with missing out on the gratitude.

in fact, somehow i ended up on the other end of the spectrum. it was an enjoyable day, but right before bed, i got really overwhelmed and frustrated, and made a list of all the things that make me angry. anger is such a weird emotion. i think it's okay to feel, and healthy to vent, but just a little strange since i'm not a typically angry person.

so instead of dwelling on that list, i want to come up with a list of a few things i'm thankful for...

black coffee.

sweatpants.

(especially since i'm enjoying both of those right now.)

mom.

luke and drew.

laughter.

reunions.

long-distance friends that can pick up right where we left off.

new friends in waco.

friends that are more than twice my age. 

good conversations over coffee.

God's patience with me.

i think i'll leave it there. i'm thankful.

blog from a skeptic

last night i finally finished a book called "letters from a skeptic" by greg boyd. i think i mentioned it in a previous blog. i whole-heartedly recommend it, especially if you've ever questioned things about God or faith. basically it's a collection of letters between greg and his father, who goes from being a bad ass atheist to believer with beautiful, childlike faith. it's an incredible journey. at the end, he admits that he still has questions, but now he'll ask them not as a skeptic, but as a believer.

that struck me, because i think i ask my questions as a skeptic...like when i ask, i feel hopeless that i'll find a satisfactory answer, and when someone does give me an answer, i doubt the answers. 

i don't really know why i'm like this. the questions started over 2 years ago, but i know that somewhere in there, there was a season in which i depended on God more than i questioned Him. like right after dad died, i felt like God was all i had, so i needed him to be real in those days. then somewhere in the stages of grief, i turned from that to being angry and frustrated with Him, which i believe is completely okay, but what's not okay is that instead of taking it out on Him and working through things with Him, i just shut down in my relationship with Him. 

i'm not saying i like this or that i want it to be this way. the truth is, i desire that childlike faith. i want to know Him. i want to trust Him. i want to love Him. i just don't know how to get to that place. i feel like the answer is prayer, but prayer frustrates me. we've been talking about prayer all semester in my covenant group at truett, and basically, i think they all think i'm crazy. i feel like they don't know what to do when i question things or make things complicated. it's so easy to feel misunderstood.

i thought about this question last night and i'm still thinking on it: do i really believe that God understands me? that He gets me? that He doesn't think i'm crazy?

thanks, oswald.

this last weekend was baylor homecoming. talk about nostalgic. i felt like i was reliving my childhood. i think i've more or less developed a love/hate relationship with nostalgia. lots of good memories, but lots of missing my dad. he would be giddy over me being at baylor. 

a friend recently pointed me back to one of the first blogs i wrote about consuming thoughts and flashbacks. i wrote about how sometimes it's easy to grow comfortable in my discomfort and easier to harbor thoughts of being lonely and misunderstood than to find the strength to "choose life" (deuteronomy 30.19). funny that i feel like i haven't made much progress since then, or worse, maybe i've even regressed. 

dr. jim denison at park cities baptist church sends out a daily email essay discussing current events and offering devotional thoughts. in today's he quoted oswald chambers: "to believe is to commit." interesting. does it always come back to this? faith is a choice. believing is committing. that just sounds so cold and distant. chambers claims that in the end, the result of all the believing/committing is finding that "faith is as natural as breathing." what?! i don't know if i agree with that. if it was that natural, would it really be faith?! is faith not always this much of a struggle? 

sometimes...a lot of times...i feel like i'm missing something. i sit in my seminary classes, read my textbooks, listen to other people talk, and i just wonder if i know the same God that i'm reading and hearing about. maybe if i just choose more or commit more, i'll finally get it. but isn't that just some sort of mind game or test of willpower? that can't be right. is it an issue of discipline? like should i make myself read my bible more or pray more? i thought it wasn't about the religious checklist, but if i'm not reading and praying, where does the "relationship" come from? 

i'm sick of knowing ABOUT him. i just want to know him....whatever that means. in the words of my roommate, maybe i just need to "calm the hell down."

'tis a gift to be simple...

so i kinda had a tough weekend. i was wrestling with some questions and issues and ultimately just ended up feeling like a complete crazy. so i've tried to let myself process for a couple of days so that i don't vomit craziness on here.

anyway, i think i just get really frustrated when people make their faith sound so simple. it's nothing against them, it's just that mine isn't. i wish it were sometimes, but mine just seems so complicated. but it's somewhat of a catch-22 (whatever that phrase even means) because if your faith is too simple, you miss out on the intricacies of the faith, but if your faith is too complex, you miss out on the fundamental truths. i don't really understand it and i don't know where the balance is in that, and because i don't feel like i get it, i end up just feeling confused and even a little guilty.

i shared these thoughts with a friend recently and this was his response:

"The point is that it is not simple at all. It takes sophisticated faith to believe in a God who transcends time. Then once you get that far you have to believe He provides a dwelling place with Him for His followers. No simple faith, but the faith of a child. Children trust with a complete love and faith. Grown-ups have to dig deep for a child-like faith."

i told him i didn't like that answer. i don't feel like a child or a grown-up. 

but at the same time, maybe he's right. though i find myself wrestling with lots of heady questions, maybe at the end of the day, my faith boils down to a pretty simple foundation. i don't trust all the complex thoughts, so i can only hold onto and bank my life on what i know to be true. and sometimes, the only thing that fits in that category is that God exists and that He loves me. i have a hard time understanding that second part, but i have to believe that it's true. 

i'm reading a book right now called "letters from a skeptic" by greg boyd. it's a collection of letters between this theologian and his atheist father. it's REALLY good. his dad asks some really honest questions and he responds with very matter-of-fact answers. in one letter, his dad asks why a big, all-powerful God would even care about us little humans. here is part of boyd's response:

"If anything, it seems to me that God's personal characteristics are displayed all the more in our smallness. Just as we would admire a rich king who, for the sake of love, would be willing to forsake all for a peasant girl he fell in love with, so it seems that God's love for us is all the more magnified precisely because we are so small. The radical difference between a lover and the beloved displays the radical nature of the lover's love. In this light, God's love is shown to be 'infinitely radical'! Maybe that's one reason why he made us so small in the physical scheme of things in the first place."

interesting thoughts, huh? maybe one of these days i'll be able to comprehend the simplicity and complexity of his love for me. until then, i'll try not to beat myself up about it.

depth.

last thursday at encounter, matt spoke from philippians 2.15-16, which says, "...you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life..." that phrase "hold out" can also be translated as "hold on to." so essentially, matt's message was on what it means to hold out and hold on to the word of life no matter what circumstances may come. 

so i've been thinking about that over this last week. what does it even mean for me to cling to the word of life when the pain attacks me so unexpectedly? what does it look like for me to hold out the word of life in my spheres of influence? 

on tuesday morning at chapel, the guest preacher, dr. thomas long, spoke from luke 5.1-11. it's the story of jesus calling the first disciples. they'd been fishing all night and hadn't caught anything. jesus comes to them and says, "put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch." you know the rest of the story. they proceed to catch so many fish that their boats begin to sink. 

DEPTH. that's what i'm craving. i love the invitation to throw my net out into the deep. i love the invitation to hold on tight to the word of life, to cling with a white-knuckled grip to him and his truth. 

but too often recently i've just been getting by and living day to day. i'm learning a lot in my classes and i'm having fun making friends, but i've realized recently that i desperately miss depth. i miss it in my conversations, in my friendships, in my time in the Word, in my relationship with God. i treat the word of life casually instead of clinging to it desperately.

i'm not sure what hinders me from holding on to the word of life or from throwing my net out into the deep. maybe distractions. maybe a lack of time management. maybe fear of the result. maybe a lack of trust. do i really believe that it's worth it? it has to be. i have to believe that it is. 

i pray that i will shine like a star in the universe as i learn how to hold on to and hold out the word of life. i pray that i will learn how to trust him and throw my net out into the deep.

my heart wants to be able to cry out with paul in romans 11.33,36, "Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen."

cg or fiji?

so i've officially been in class for 5 weeks. crazy. after being in waco for over a month, and after spending a weekend back in auburn, i have a few observations:

in waco, i go to concerts (that feel like band parties) at a coffee house instead of a frat house. the bands have been robbie seay and shawn mcdonald instead of velcro pygmies and fly by radio. i get coffee spilled on my toes instead of beer. (despite these differences, i still kinda feel like i have "FRESHMAN" written on my forehead, just like i did 4 years ago.)

does this mean waco is better or more of a "christian" environment?

here, being a christian is almost expected of people (if not in waco, it is on baylor's campus in general, and it certainly is at truett). there, true christians are far from a shunned minority, but they certainly aren't the popular majority either. here, being a christian seems to be just part of life. there, i see it as a chosen lifestyle. 

again, these are broad sweeping generalizations and just mere observations, but thought-provoking nonetheless. and i'm certainly not pointing fingers at either community because perhaps it's more of a personal thing. maybe it's just that when i'm constantly surrounded by it, when it's expected of me, it's easier to justify slacking off. but when it's a choice i'm having to make, i'm more likely to figure out for myself. interesting.

so back to the question. is waco a better environment than auburn? certainly not. i pray that my faith won't depend on environment or circumstance.

when the rubber meets the road...

in my intro to theology class we read a chapter each week discussing a highly debated issue in christian theology, then we have to choose a side of the debate and write an essay supporting our choice. this week was on the foreknowledge debate--essentially, does God know all things that will happen (the classical view), or does He know some things while leaving other things open to be determined by our freewill (the open view)? tough question. i had to realize that this is an issue that has been debated for several years, so the likelihood of me finding the definite answer is pretty slim. and maybe more importantly, the way God works cannot possibly be completely and fully understood by my human, finite mind. however, after wrestling with the issue and being forced to pick a side, i went with the classical view.

here's a thought: theological issues are kinda fun to talk about and debate in theory, but when the rubber meets the road, when these crazy ideas turn into what you're actually believing and banking your life on, it takes things to a whole new level. so as much as i hate saying this, i'm almost thankful that i'm in the trenches, that i'm living this out right now, that i'm in a place of wrestling with what i believe in the midst of tragedy, because otherwise, it would be easy to sit in these classes and just talk without having to put into practice. that's not to discredit the theology of people who haven't experienced tragedy, but that's just where i am. does that make sense?

all of that to say, i just thought i'd share the last few paragraphs of my essay from tuesday night's class. i can't help but see these issues through the lenses of my life experiences. anyway, here's the last part of the essay:

"It is easy to discuss this issue in theory, but when faced in real life experiences, how does it play out? Do these concepts of the classical view of divine foreknowledge still hold true in my day-to-day life, my monumental decisions, and my unexpected tragedies?

            I have to agree with David's proclamation in Psalm 139:16: "In your book were written, everyone of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them."

            Therefore, in day-to-day life and in major life decisions, I believe that God foreknows what I will freely choose to do. I do not think that God has a mysterious, predetermined will that I can discover only if I pray enough and read the Bible enough. I do not believe that he causes us to choose something, but rather that in His sovereignty and omniscience, He knows what choice we will make.

            When unexpected tragedies occur, I do not believe that they are a surprise to God. Because I believe that He knows all that will happen, I believe that He foreknew that my dad would die of a sudden heart attack, and for some reason that I may never understand, He allowed it to happen. I cringe when fellow believers throw scriptures like Romans 8:28 to me like miraculous Band-Aids claiming that all things happen for a reason, because I do not believe that God is trading a bad circumstance for a good outcome like a couple of baseball cards. However, as Scripture reveals and as the Great Tradition affirms, I have to believe that my God foreknows all that shall come to pass, including great tragedy."

welcome to waco.

It’s been a while since I last blogged—surprise. But good news: I’ve discovered a new desire, a need really, for this type of processing. Life in Waco is good, but I find myself desperately wanting to be around someone that knows me. A few people here know me pretty well—friends from home, Kanakuk, etc.—but nobody here REALLY knows me. Maybe I should say that nobody here really knows me YET. We’ll see. All of that to say, I guess I’m doing this out of a desire to be known. Call me shallow, or maybe just call me human.

This is such a bizarre stage of life. I almost feel like a college freshman all over again, meeting new people and trying to make friends. It’s been a few years since I’ve had this feeling of being unknown. A group of us watched a movie together last night, and at one point I looked around the room and realized nobody there knew about my dad. Weird. It’s not really something to bring up in casual conversation, but at the same time, it’s a huge part of who I am.

Being here has been pretty tough in that area. I guess I’m naïve, but I wasn’t really expecting it to be as tough as it has been. I grew up coming to Baylor with my family, so this place is full of random childhood memories. The big thing is that I just can’t help but think about how giddy Dad would be about finally having a kid at Baylor. But perhaps the real issue is that this is the first big life transition I’ve had to go through without him. I want to call him after my classes and tell him what I’m learning and how incredible my professors are. He would be so proud of me. Maybe that sounds vain, but I miss hearing that and really knowing that.

So I don’t know where that leaves me, but in the words of Jordin Sparks: “one step at a time.”

hallelujah

there are a lot of songs on repeat in my head right now that are getting me through these days. most recently (as in the last 36 hours), this one has been especially on my heart.

"hallelujah"--bethany dillon

who can hold the stars and my weary heart?

who can see everything?

i've fallen so hard, sometimes i feel so far

but not beyond your reach.

i could climb a mountain, swim the ocean, or do anything

but it's when you hold me that i start unfolding

and all that i can say is...

hallelujah, hallelujah

whatever's in front of me

help me to sing hallelujah.

hallelujah, hallelujah

whatever's in front of me

i'll choose to sing hallelujah.

the same sun that rises over castles and welcomes the day

spills over buildings into the streets where orphans play.

and only you can see the good in broken things.

you took my heart of stone, and you made it home

and set this prisoner free.

hopefully i'll get to write more later, but for now, just know that there's been a lot of "unfolding" these days and a lot of desperately trying to "see the good in broken things." and sometimes, or maybe all the time, singing "hallelujah" has to be a choice that can only be made with His help. 

p.s.

i'm blogging for dr. hall this week. check it out. leave a comment. let me know your thoughts.

and maybe explore all the buckner sites while you're at it. you'll love it.

http://bucknerprez.typepad.com/

expecting much

well good news—i’m really enjoying the internship. it’s really an incredible experience.  and the greatest thing is that it’s turned into quite a mentorship wrapped up in the package of an internship. i couldn’t be more grateful.

the best aspect of the summer has been the fact that instead of just staying locked up in my broom closet-turned intern’s office all day everyday, he’s letting me kinda explore the whole ministry and see what all the different branches do. some examples: one week we did some donor visits, which exposed me to the buckner foundation side of things. i’m not so sure i’m called to that aspect of ministry—asking people for money.  another week, he sent me to memphis with a team from the external affairs department. we set up a buckner booth at the cooperative baptist fellowship annual meeting. this exposed me to the marketing/pr side of things. i was all about it—i mean, how could i not be? i could talk about the work of buckner for hours. it was really fun to meet so many people, but maybe kinda bizarre to be surrounded by thousands of baptists in the same place at the same time—slightly overwhelming slash claustrophobic? i believe “interesting” was my word of choice those couple of days. sometimes i wonder if our generation will continue those types of things—i lean towards no, but we’ll see. last week, i got to attend a buckner adoption workshop one night. i loved meeting couples who were anxious yet eager (thanks, sarah) about potentially adopting a child into their home. also last week, they sent me to the shoe warehouse for a couple of days. buckner has a ministry called “shoes for orphan souls." basically, donations of shoes and humanitarian aid are received from all 50 states then shipped to almost 60 countries around the world. this warehouse is literally about the size of a walmart. that’s also the location for their dallas area crisis relief center. they serve 5 zip codes with clothes, food, and other needs. pretty incredible.

if you know me, you know that my favorite thing in all of this has been meeting the people involved in this ministry.  if i’m having a slow day in the office, or sitting at a booth in memphis or taking a waterbreak at the warehouse, i’ll find someone and drill them with questions about what they do and why they do it.  it has been unbelievably challenging and encouraging.

the director of the shoe warehouse/crisis relief center is a man named Jackie Belt. he’s been with buckner for over 25 years in all different areas, starting as a foster home house parent. his heart is gold and his stories are unbelievable—really. how about this story—a boy was getting a new wheelchair, so he donated his old one to buckner—but it wasn’t just any wheelchair, it had all the bells and whistles with red and gold detail, and his name stitched on the back—“Cory.” a couple of days later, a mom came in crying about how her son needed a wheelchair. Jackie took her to the back and showed her the one they had gotten and she went silent. her son’s name was Cory—WHAT?! he told me story after story like this—things that can only be explained by the hand of God. i would laugh, almost out of disbelief, but the incredible thing is that Jackie was never surprised by these things. he kept saying what a blessing it was to be in his position and to get to see God work in such beautiful ways.  he expects God to work and act like that—essentially to be God, to be who He says He is. and maybe that’s just it—maybe i believe God exists, but do i believe Him enough to expect much from Him? and this expectation isn’t out of thinking we’ve done anything to deserve it, but rather, realizing we don’t and recognizing in our inability, He is able—because of His abounding grace, and really, just because of who He is.

oh to have the faith of Jackie Belt. what if I didn’t just believe promises enough to agree with them but enough to truly claim them and live by them? when I pray, am i just wishing and hoping that He’s actually there and maybe even listening? or am I believing and expecting? according to james 1, let’s lean toward the latter.

thoughts from the prez.

well i made it to dallas and i'm about a week and a half into my 10 week internship. so far, so good. needless to say, i need to write a new post soon because i have a ton of thoughts i'd love to put into words for the 2 of you that read this. meanwhile, i thought i'd let you in on someone else's thoughts...

i've been working a lot with the trustee information at buckner--like their files, minutes, future meetings, etc. i loved reading the president's report, of course. here are some of his wise words from 10 years ago that i found incredibly encouraging...

"Jeremiah 32:27 is a passage that could have been used to apply to a lot of different circumstances, but the truth is, God is in the business of redeeming broken lives. That is what He does. He performs His work in the lives of people who need Him. That is the whole plan of creation since the fall of man, that God would redeem lost mankind unto Himself. That is what it is all about.

Sometimes in the issues that we deal with, I think we feel like it is too big of an issue or too big of a problem, too big of a need that is out there that we need to address and it has no solution. The question that God asked Jeremiah in Jeremiah's whining about his problems was, 'Jeremiah, is anything too hard for me?'

That is the answer Buckner is trying to give to a world--that there is nothing you can do that will ever separate you from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus, that there is never a time a victim of circumstance should ever feel like God does not love them or have a plan for their life; whether it be that child...that family...an elderly...

For all of those people, the message of the gospel is that God loves you and God has a plan for your life, and that God wants you to feel His presence and His touch and His care. It is Buckner's job, one of God's instruments, to be expressing that love to this world."

--KLH, April 1998

here's another thought:

"...we have a Savior, we have a King, a Master, and Leader who IS the change agent of the world but yet is changeless. Change is part of what goes on, but yet, the Scripture does tell us that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever." 

--KLH, July 1998

great reminders about who He is in tough circumstances, changing circumstances...all circumstances, really. hope you're encouraged!

standing on grace

funny that i haven't posted anything in almost a month...and it's been quite a month. i've graduated from college, said good-bye to all my auburn friends, packed up the beach house, went to the beach for a few days, moved back home, and will move to dallas and start my internship june 2. crazy. 

those last few days in auburn were pretty intense. as if graduating and leaving friends wasn't hard enough, dad's absence was more painful than it has been in a while. and leaving auburn was more than just saying bye to college buds--these people have walked with me in the lowest point of my life. there's such a fear of losing them and facing new people that don't know my story. 

i went to panama city beach for a few days with some friends. standing on the shoreline and looking out over the ocean never fails to make feel unbelievably small in comparison to how big my God is. it astounds me to see all of creation revealing the characteristics of God--like Paul says in romans 1.20. 

i was mesmerized by the waves. they are so constant. they reminded me of God's faithfulness--how consistent and unchanging He is. the waves will never NOT crash onto the shore. that's the nature of waves, right? so no matter what i feel or think, God will never NOT be faithful, it's His nature. the waves also reminded me of the ebb and flow of life--sometimes calm, sometimes crashing, but always moving. there's somewhat of a comfort from the fact that life keeps going. sometimes i want to throw the brakes on and camp out here for a while, but life doesn't work like that...and as much as i can hate that fact, i think it's actually a good thing. in james 1 and ephesians 4, waves are used to illustrate those who doubt. ouch. i get really frustrated by this because in my pride, i don't want to be like a wave tossed by the wind. i want to be the one who gets it.

like in the story about the two guys building houses--one on solid rock and one on shifting sand. i've realized, if i'm honest, that my mentality is to be the rock. i want to be the perfect, unchanging one in the midst of a storm. clearly there's a problem--i'm human. i'm not the rock, i'm supposed to set my life on the rock of Jesus. i was thinking about this as i was walking along the beach and that old caedmon's call song was playing in my head--"my faith is like shifting sand, changed by every wave. my faith is like shifting sand, so i stand on grace." in my efforts to be the rock, i've failed to recognize the invitation of grace. 

so in these days when i feel like every single aspect of my life has been shaken by change, i'm learning my efforts of self-sufficiency are futile. i must learn to stand on the rock of grace found only in Jesus. but even as i write that, it just sounds like pretty words that are impossible to practically live out--but i'm trying. or maybe in a sense, i'm giving up. 

did someone move the finish line?

i like to turn most things in life into analogies. my mind just understands things better like that. lucky for me, writers like paul liked analogies, too. needless to say, get ready for one...

on saturday, my friend and i ran the country music half-marathon (http://cmmarathon.com) in nashville. we did this same one last year, but maybe last year i felt more trained and more prepared for the big day. going into this year's race, i was genuinely nervous and honestly thought i wouldn't make it. i was telling myself it was okay if i had to stop and walk, i just wanted to finish.

likewise, last week i started feeling incredibly overwhelmed one night. i just have this reccuring thought that there's no possible way i'm going to make it through these next couple of weeks. perhaps that sounds dramatic, but i'm just being honest. i know every graduating senior starts to freak out over the end and the new beginnings, but in my life all of those fears of transition are just thrown in with all the other fears and uncertainties that come along with grief. about 14 months ago, my life underwent a huge change, so in my mind, i associate dramatic life changes with pain and heartache.

i can't help but hurt when i think about Dad's absence at graduation. i want him to be standing around the grill with all of my roommates' dads at our party the night before. i want him to be getting so frustrated and yelling things like "dad-gummit" during the infamous moving out process. i want him to be so proud to have 3 college graduates and so happy to not be sending all of his money to a university he had no interest in only a few years ago.

but back to the marathon. we had a blast and the run actually felt really good. i even finished with a faster time than i had last year, which doesn't really make any sense in light of my lack of training. that's not to say that there weren't a few times i questioned my decision to run 13.1 miles. around mile 3, i found myself wondering if i was really going to be able to run 10 more miles. around mile 10, my body was really starting to feel it, but at that point i had already reached double digits, so i wasn't about to quit. the last mile felt the longest, and i laughed when someone ran by me wearing a tank-top that said "did someone move the finish line?"

unfortunately, in my life right now i don't see a "finish line," but i'm told in hebrews 12 to "run with endurance the race that is set before [me], looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of [my] faith..." in the marathon, when i wasn't sure if i would make it, i was too stubborn to give up. at 10 miles, if i had made it that far, i certainly could finish. maybe it's okay for me to feel stubborn in my faith. although it rarely makes sense to me, i'm not about to throw in the towel. although the next few years, months, weeks, days, even hours seem almost impossible to bear, i can look back on the last 14 months and see that i've made it this far without falling apart, so there's no need to bail on my faith now. isaiah 40 claims that "those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength...they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." why? because "He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable."

sometimes i want to scream at the top of my lungs, "DID SOMEONE MOVE THE FINISH LINE?!" in other words, when do i get the finisher's medal? is this ever going to end? that's when i feel like paul screams right back at me through his words in 1 corinthians 9. i like it from the message version: "everyone runs; one wins. run to win. all good athletes train hard. they do it for a gold medal that tarnishes and fades. you're after one that's gold eternally. i don't know about you, but i'm running hard for the finish line. i'm giving it everything i've got."

i don't know what all of this really looks like in those overwhelming moments when the pain literally takes my breath away, but i do know that i'm too stubborn to give up. i must persevere, fixing my eyes on Jesus, the One who will perfect this clumsy faith of mine.

o me of little faith.

if asked about God's love, i would without a doubt tell you that God loves you unconditionally. however, i've realized recently that when all else is stripped away, i'm not sure if i believe this for me.

and here's where it gets confusing. if God knows i have a hard time understanding His love for me, why would He make it any harder? if He knew that Dad loved me so well and showed me God's love so beautifully, why would He take that away?! that doesn't seem very loving.

in my mind, this is what it's like: here's a great idea...i know you feel unbelievably loved and secure in your dad, and i know he helps you know Me better, but i'm gonna take him away and leave a gaping wound there. unfortunately, there's no real replacement, so surgery doesn't seem like an option. in fact, not a whole lot can make it much better, but you can just hope for stitches that will maybe hold it together...but those will only be found if you've got faith, which clearly you're kinda struggling with right now...so i'm not really sure where that leaves you...probably just with a lousy bandaid that will start to stick, then get ripped off over and over again. lovely.

so i've been thinking about this passage recently--matthew 14.26-33--the classic story of peter walking on water. the disciples fear, jesus invites, peter doubts and cries for help, jesus calls him out then controls the storm, then everyone worships Him. jesus speaks three times in this story. the gentle assurance of "take heart; it is i. do not be afraid." the beautiful simplicity of "come." or probably His favorite line with me, "o you of little faith, why did you doubt?" at this point, i need peter to push the envelope a little further like he tends to do. i would have responded with "why did i doubt?! well maybe because this storm is out of control and i thought i could trust you, but clearly i just ended up sinking." i guess that's when jesus would have said, "what storm?! oh you mean the one that just obeyed my command? quit looking at the waves and keep your eyes on me." great answer, but maybe a little easier said than done...?

going into encounter tonight with all of these thoughts, i was silenced when we sang crowder's song, "never let go." simple but powerful lyrics:

when clouds veil sun and disaster comes
oh my soul...
when waters rise and hope takes flight
oh my soul...

ever faithful, ever true
you i know
you never let go...

when clouds brought rain and disaster came
oh my soul...
when waters rose and hope had flown
oh my soul...

oh my soul overflows
oh what love, oh what love
oh my soul fills with hope
perfect love that never lets go

oh what love, oh what love...
in joy and pain, in sun and rain
you're the same
oh, you never let go

what if i lived truly knowing and living in this perfect love for me that refuses to let me go?! what if my soul hoped in His consistency rather than being overwhelmed by changing and challenging circumstances?

it's not supposed to be like this.

last wednesday night, american idol did their annual "idol gives back" show where they bring in all kinds of celebrities and artists to raise money and awareness for people in need around the world. they had daughtry in uganda, bono in south africa, alicia keys somewhere else in africa, another famous person in new orleans, and the list goes on...

typically, i'm not one to cry much, especially when it would be an expected response, so the fact that this show brought me to tears should be shocking to those of you that really know me. i cried myself to sleep that night thinking about the pain i had seen on the show and the pain i've experienced in my own life, and the only thought i had was "it's not supposed to be like this."

i guess it's not as much an issue of right and wrong as much as it is a matter of SURELY God doesn't want us to hurt this badly. surely there's a better way. basically, i just found myself incredibly overwhelmed by the brokenness of this world and wondering where God fit in to all of it.

i finally finished that book, the shack, this weekend. i want to share another part of it, and honestly, this probabaly won't be the last time i refer to it. in chapter 11, the main character, mack, is asking why his daughter had to die. here's the response he gets from sophia, the personification of wisdom:

"He doesn't stop a lot of things that cause him pain. Your world is severely broken. You demanded your independence, and now you are angry with the one who loved you enough to give it to you. Nothing is as it should be, as Papa desires it to be, and as it will be one day. Right now your world is lost in darkness and chaos, and horrible things happen to those that he is especially fond of...Give up being his judge and know Papa for who he is. Then you will be able to embrace his love in the midst of your pain, instead of pushing him away with your self-centered perception of how you think the universe should be."

in chapter 13, mack's in a similar conversation with Papa (God) and this is one of the responses He gives:

"Mack, just because I work incredible good out of unspeakable tragedies doesn't mean I orchestrate the tragedies. Don't ever assume that my using something means I caused it or that I need it to accomplish my purposes. That will only lead you to false notions about me. Grace doesn't depend on suffering to exist, but where there is suffering you will find grace in many facets and colors."

a good friend recently reminded me that God isn't trading baseball cards in my life. it's not like He's saying, "i'll trade this bad circumstance for this good one." confession: romans 8.28 can sound like that to me sometimes, but i have to believe that isn't the God i know.

so who is the God that i know? i've never thought about the fact that i'm deeming myself a superior judge when i tell Him that this isn't the way my life is supposed to look and that it's not right for people to be hurting all over the world and basically that i think He's going about a lot of things in the wrong way.

it's in these moments that i realize i don't really understand God's love for me, and if i do, i certainly don't act or live or think like it. when my focus is on brokenness, my perspective of God is far from good, gracious, and loving...but if i believe Him to be those things, and turn my focus there, my perspective on brokenness should change, right?

sorry i don't have a good ending thought to pull this all together and end on a good note, but i'm striving for honesty here...so this is where i am this afternoon. these are my thoughts.

anchored.

my roommate recently asked me about this blog and about why/when i do it: do you blog everyday?—nope.—do you blog once a week?—eh, not really.—do you blog when you feel crazy?—um, yeah basically.

so for the two of you that read this, you’ve been warned. ha!

a paraplegic man came and spoke to my health psychology class last week. he was in a wheelchair and essentially paralyzed from the neck down. at one point he made the comment that if given the chance to go back to normal walking he wouldn’t take it. WHAT?! i would love to think that at some point in my life i would be mature enough to have the same attitude, but i don’t really think it’s human. i’m thankful for certain things that have come from the last year of grieving, but i’m not sure that i’ll ever see it as a fair trade…but what is “fair” really?! i act like God owes me something, as if i really deserve anything. or maybe it’s not that mindset as much as it is a certain expectation of what so-called “unconditional love” should look like.

a friend (well, she’s more than that…a mentor? God-send?) sent me this book of daily readings called Streams in the Desert. here’s an excerpt from april 1 that i thought was pretty good:

“An old seaman once said, ‘In fierce storms we must do one thing, for there is only one way to survive: we must put the ship in a certain position and keep her there.’ Sometimes, like Paul, you cannot see the sun or the stars to help you navigate when the storm is bearing down on you. This is when you can do only one thing, for there is only one way. Reason cannot help you, past experiences will shed no light, and even prayer will bring you no consolation. Only one course remains: you must put your soul in one position and keep it there. You must anchor yourself steadfastly upon the Lord.”

oh to know that place of trust! oh how i desire to anchor myself upon Him when reason, past experiences, and prayer too often leave me wanting. how is that even possible?

“we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us. this hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. it leads us through the curtain into God's inner sanctuary."–hebrews 6.18-19 (nlt)

HOPE.

ten of us went to my roommate’s mountain house in cashiers, nc this weekend. when we went hiking in the rain on saturday, we had a great time, but the view from the top was fog. we were literally in a rain cloud. as we looked into complete gray, my roommate described for us the usual beautiful scenic view from the top.

when we woke up this morning, it was sunny and pretty, so of course we went for another hike. this time, the view of the blue ridge mountains was breathtaking. i didn’t have to envision the view. i didn’t have to merely hope that the mountains were out there. i didn’t have to take someone else’s word for it. i could see it for myself.

the last verse of the hymn “it is well” came to mind: “and Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight/the clouds be rolled back as a scroll/the trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend/even so, it is well with my soul.”

i can’t imagine the end of this wrestling match of faith, when faith will become sight. meanwhile, i will hope and anchor myself in faith upon Him, even when nothing makes sense. and maybe at some point in my life, though not today, i will be able to sing those last words, “it is well with my soul.”

help my unbelief.

i feel like i've got a ton of thoughts that have built up over the last week of spring break and easter, so it might take a few posts to process all of it.

i'm starting to wonder if most of life is just an endless cycle of good/bad, hope/disappointment, high/low, love/loss. such a cycle is exhausting and eventually leaves me over and over in this kind of crisis of belief. there's a part of me that wants to throw in the towel, but then there's another part of me, even if it's only the size of my eyelash, that senses a desperate need to keep holding on to Jesus. i know we're supposed to trust God to be constant in and through all of it, but sometimes that doesn't really make much sense and can start to feel like some mean joke someone's playing on me.

i have to keep coming back to the father in mark 9. he's begging Jesus to rebuke the unclean spirit that is destroying his son, and Christ claims that "all things are possible for one who believes." in response, the father cries out, "i believe; help my unbelief!" how many times can i join with him in crying out that prayer?!

when the rubber meets the road, the big question is--do i believe that He is who He says He is? in matthew 16, Christ asks His disciples, "who do people say that the son of man is?" they respond by telling Him different viewpoints, but then He really shoots straight with them. He asks, "but who do YOU say that i am?" Simon Peter breaks the awkward silence by declaring, "you are the Christ, the Son of the living God."

so who do i say that He is? again, do i really believe that He is who He says He is? and even if i claim to believe Him, do i live like i do? for example, when i'm stranded in the chicago airport for 9 hours trying to get home for Easter, knowing loneliness and despair pretty deeply, do i really believe that He is Emmanuel, God with ME?! and if i believed Him to be steadfast, would i question His goodness as frequently as i do? if i truly know that He loves me, wouldn't i trust His sovereignty when dreams are shattered and life isn't always so picture perfect?

i'm currently reading a book called the shack, by william p. young. in chapter 8, God is explaining to the main character, mackenzie, why humans have such a hard time trusting that reality is bigger than the small, incomplete picture that we see:

"The real underlying flaw in your life, Mackenzie, is that you don't think that I am good. If you knew I was good and that everything--the means, the ends, and all the processes of individual lives--is all covered by my goodness, then while you might not always understand what I am doing, you would trust me. But you don't...Mackenzie, you cannot produce trust just like you cannot 'do' humility. It either is or is not. Trust is the fruit of a relationship in which you know you are loved. Because you do not know that I love you, you cannot trust me."

woven in the tapestry

I’ve been nervous to post anything in the last few days because of a fear of being TOO honest with my thoughts on here. More scary to me, though, would be to wear a mask when writing this blog, therefore skewing any attempt at vulnerability. Nobody needs to read anyone’s masked thoughts or “put together” story. There’s enough of that in this world already, especially among believers. Sad, but sometimes true.

On Monday, I attended the university’s memorial service for Lauren Burk. The administration handled it really well. Dr. Johnny Green, our Dean of students, is essentially a minister posing as a dean. He shared an inspirational and encouraging message, referencing scripture more than once. He talked about the prophet, Amos, and discussed such virtues as justice and goodness.

It is interesting to me that when someone is tragically murdered it can be dubbed “an untimely injustice,” but Dad’s death is supposed to be understood as God wanting to take him home in His perfect timing. I can’t understand that rationale, but I’m not convinced that it holds much truth worth understanding. Is dying of a sudden, unexpected heart-attack not tragic and shocking and “an untimely injustice”?? In the case of this murder, there is one to whom we can point the finger of blame, one who can be called “guilty.” And when he receives his just punishment, family and friends of Lauren can feel some sense of relief, or even fulfilled revenge. In the case of a heart-attack, who is to blame? It is tempting to point that finger at God, but like a child wanting to touch the hot stove, I know better.

I have to believe that in His sovereignty, this broken story of mine is beautiful. I have to believe that it will be woven in amongst others’ stories in the tapestry of His bigger story. I’ve been overwhelmed by this concept recently. On Saturday night, I attended a church in Nashville that was celebrating its tenth anniversary. The six founding couples shared stories and testimonies of the Lord’s faithfulness over the last ten years. One woman referred to 1 John 5.6-12 and discussed the power of our testimonies. “Whoever believes in the Son of God has the testimony in himself…And this is the testimony, that God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Whoever has the Son has life…” (v.10-12) There is power in testifying to others about my story of life in the Son of God. Praise God that others’ stories have heavily impacted my story (exhibit A: click on “inspiration” or “mentor” on the right), and I can only hope that my own will be used to affect the stories of others. Hence, the necessity for vulnerability here.

At the memorial service, Dr. Green also referred to Hebrews 12.1. Though the “great cloud of witnesses” may seem romantic and picturesque, I would rather picture my dad sitting on the couch at home reading the paper and watching ESPN. But I have to believe that he is in that group alongside other great heroes of faith, surrounding us and spurring us on with their stories that are being told and retold, as we are “looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith.” That’s my only hope—to fix my eyes on Him and to trust Him with my feeble, broken faith. Thank you, Jesus, for loving me just as I am.

fear.

i had the opportunity on monday night to lead the devotion at our chapter meeting. (maybe you can find it on youtube if you're really interested. ha! thank you, roommate.) i really miss serving in that role each week. i pray that somewhere in my future God will let me share and teach His Word like that on a normal basis.

my thoughts monday night were mostly about what we fear in this life and what it is to trust God in and through those fears. maybe a little easier said than done sometimes?

last night a freshman girl was killed here in auburn. (more info at http://ocm.auburn.edu/news/alerts.html). needless to say, that has been the topic of every conversation in auburn today, and the story has even spread to news stations across the country. while it's necessary to be aware and cautious, many have instead become nervous and fearful. surely there's a balance.

it's interesting how easily we can be swayed by the spirit of fear. we fear being alone. we fear loss and death. we fear being left out. we fear change. we fear the uncertain and the unknown. (maybe "we" should be "i"?!)

how good are paul's words in 2 timothy 1.7-8?

"for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control. Therefore, do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord..."

what if we truly lived in the spirit that has been given to us rather than the spirit that has so easily enticed and deceived us?

"even though i walk through the valley of the shadow of death, i will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me" (psalm 23.4).

thank you, david, for using the preposition "through"! the scary, evil things of this world are not the end. how beautiful that merely the Shepherd's presence was reason enough not to fear--oh to know that comfort and intimacy with the Good Shepherd's presence!

there is much fear in this world, and even in my life. fear grips me if i think too far into the future, especially in terms of experiencing life without my dad. i get anxious thinking about my brother getting married and my family having a new addition. graduation and future plans are exciting but nerve-wracking at the same time.

i have to believe and praise God that He is love, and that "there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear" (1 john 4.18).

change.

HUGE news: my oldest brother, luke, proposed last night. he and teri are ENGAGED! in other words, in a matter of months, they'll be MARRIED! unbelievable. i'm incredibly excited for them.

honestly, i think it's almost bizarre that last march 1st was my dad's funeral, a celebration of the gospel in and through his life, and this march 1st, my family is celebrating my brother's proposal of marriage, also a beautiful picture of the gospel.

it would be easy to freak out over such back-to-back, dramatic, permanent, life-altering changes in my family, but if i've learned anything over this last year, it has been that life changes, sometimes without warning, so instead of fighting it, you have to learn to embrace it.

i googled "quotes on change" and wanted to share some of my favorites:

"it is not necessary to change. survival is not mandatory." -w. edwards deming

"smooth seas do not make skillful sailors." -african proverb

"change is inevitable--except from a vending machine." -robert c. gallagher

interesting, huh?

so then, i looked up "change" in my concordance:

"for i the Lord do not change; therefore you, o children of jacob, are not consumed." -malachi 3.6

"every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change." -james 1.17

He has been faithful in our grief, and He will be faithful in our celebration of new beginnings. praise God that in a world of uncertainty, He alone is constant.

less like scars.

i don't really know what to do with today. the question that keeps running in my mind is simply, "what now?!" year one: check. so do we just start the whole process over again now? the truth is, one year feels like one week. people act like the one year mark is such a monumental milestone. one person even said something like "you made it!" in a card to me yesterday. funny.

i've got another song to share. the words are unbelievable. i'm praying for this kind of perspective on the last year of my life.

"less like scars"--sara groves

it's been a hard year,
but i'm climbing out of the rubble.
these lessons are hard.
healing changes are subtle.
but every day it's...

less like tearing more like building,
less like captive more like willing,
less like breakdown more like surrender,
less like haunting more like remember...

and i feel you here,
and you're picking up the pieces,
forever faithful.
it seemed out of my hands, a bad situation,
but you are able.
and in your hands the pain and hurt
look less like scars and more like character.

less like a prison more like my room,
less like a casket more like a womb,
less like dying more like transcending,
less like fear, less like an ending...

just a little while ago,
i couldn't feel the power or the hope.
i couldn't cope, i couldn't feel a thing.
just a little while back,
i was desperate, broken, laid out,
hoping you would come.

and i need you.
and i want you here.
and i feel you here.

and in your hands the pain and hurt
look less like scars and more like character.

one year.

today marks one year since my dad died. one year feels like one week. i don't really know what i'm supposed to feel on this day, but the idea of "supposed to" anything somewhat bothers me. even after reading my fair share of books on grief, and after studying the different stages in some of my psychology classes, i don't really think there is any set way to move through grief. it's an easy lie to believe, that i'm not feeling or doing or being the right thing at this stage in the process. all that to say, there's much freedom on the other side of expectation.

i'm not much for cheesy cliches, especially in the christian culture. i'll go so far as to say that some scriptures have turned into cliches, because people throw them around without really knowing what they mean and expect them to work like some magic pill to take the pain away. romans 8.28? philippians 4.13? beautiful truths because of the God of whom they testify, but not healing ointments in and of themselves. and i think that's just it: the reason they've become cliche and overused is because they really do contain good truth when known and used in the right context.

i've had lamentations 3 in my head all day. it's the inspiration behind my dad's favorite hymn. it has always been one of my favorites, but it can lean towards being one of those "feel good" passages. so, i've decided to look into it a little more deeply today.

i recently finished a book called "a sacred sorrow: reaching out to God in the lost language of lament," by michael card. it was recommended to me and i would recommend it to anyone walking in grief. it explores biblical grieving in the lives of job, david, jeremiah, and jesus. in the section on jeremiah, it discusses the book of lamentations in great detail.

the book is made up of four acrostic poems expressing jeremiah's grief over nebuchadnezzar's annihilation of jerusalem. to this day, it is still read every year on the day of mourning for the destruction of the Temple. how cool is that?!

in the first two chapters, jeremiah grieves the loss of the city and compares it to a widow mourning the loss of her beloved. from despair, he moves to anger, even seeing God as the enemy.

oh, but then comes chapter 3. jeremiah makes an incredible transition. after exhausting himself out in lament against the God that has become his enemy, he finds a surprising hope in the midst of seeming hopelessness.

"so i say, 'my endurance has perished;
so has my hope from the Lord.'
remember my affliction and my wanderings...
my soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me.
but this i call to mind, and therefore i have hope:
the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
'the Lord is my portion,' says my soul,
'therefore i will hope in him.'" (v. 18-24)

"steadfast love" comes from the hebrew word "hesed." beautiful. expect more on that word in a later post.

so now, this "feel good" passage seems less about fuzzy feelings and more about a soul crying out with a deep sense of desperation. it's less about throwing around "hope" like a token word and more about truly understanding hope in God for all things after losing everything. the God who he had once seen as enemy is now the God that hears and sees his despair and chooses to join him in that suffering.

what a beautiful picture of desolation, realization, restoration. the book ends with pleas for God to restore and to remember them in their distress. isn't that the natural fear, that everyone (even God) will forget what has happened? yet His love never ceases. His mercies are new each day. Great is His faithfulness.

grand design.

i hate the flashbacks. they happen all the time, but especially this morning. in my mind, i remember everything happening on a tuesday morning, so that would be today, but i know the big 27th date is tomorrow. am i crazy to recognize a number on a calendar?

i'm seeing the necessity to "take every thought captive to obey Christ" (2 cor. 10.5). it's easy to get lost in flashbacks. satan likes to use them to his advantage, distorting the truth, making me believe lies, letting me grow comfortable in my discomfort...but honestly, sometimes it seems easier to harbor thoughts of being lonely and misunderstood than to find the strength to "choose life" (deut. 30.19).

music speaks to my soul. certain artists have put into words what my heart longs to cry out. this song was on repeat in my head as i fought waking up this morning.

"grand design"--jill phillips

i knew it all along that this day was coming
even though i knew it doesn't hurt any less
but somehow the suffering draws me to you
i could start running in anger
but then what's the point of a savior

i feel the pain but it still doesn't change who you are
nothing i feel is outside of the reach of your arms
my whole world could crumble but all of the pieces remain
in your hands that are waiting to put them together again

just like i know you will in your own time, in your own wisdom
one day i'll look back and see the grand design
maybe it will make sense then, these questions i have
but with it all here front and center
sometimes it's hard to remember

i could start running in anger
but then what's the point of a savior

take two.

a couple years ago i tried to be a blogger...but i quickly lost interest. maybe because i didn't have much to write about. maybe because i felt like nobody read it. maybe because it seemed silly.

but recently, i've found myself keeping up with certain blogs and being incredibly blessed by them. that's not to say that i'm expecting multitudes to be "incredibly blessed" by this blog--much less read it--but i guess you could say i've been inspired to give it another shot.

so if i'm the only person that ever sees this, or if people i've never met read it and are blessed, either way, it should be interesting.