So you want me to be unsafe?

I hate weekends. They disrupt my normal. And to me, normal equals safe. The more predictable life is, the happier I am. HEAVEN FORBID something spontaneous would slap me in the face, and require an answer without any time to think through the endless possible outcomes of each option, and the ways I could make each situation work out. And, even though I can predict the turmoil I'll wake up with each Saturday and Sunday, I don't feel safe.

And I most certainly don't feel free. 

By the end of Sunday, I can't wait for Monday morning to roll around. I'm more exhausted than I was on Friday, more drained and disheartened due to a weekend of trying to make myself "safe" in the middle of abnormal. For me, that means planned. busy. moving. controlling. manipulating. being in charge. but there's no life, no freedom, when every moment is filled with a to-do list, dictated by my made-up need for more doing, and less being. None of this is new to me. It's a pattern of safety that, somewhere earlier on my journey, I chose to cling to when I felt unsafe. The problem is: it's like a drug. A small amount worked for awhile, and when it stopped, I tightened my grasp more...and more...and more. Which has been leading me to a place of suffocating control of time. 

Yesterday was no different, my day stretched longer and longer and longer. And the longer it becomes, the more void of relationship, life-giving, restful, being moments it becomes. 

So I went into work, annoyed and frustrated at myself, that despite my frustration and lack of enjoyment of this system of control, I kept doing it.

 Because it was safe.

I know how to do "safe". How to do predictable. How to do things this way. Even if it's suffocation, lifeless, frustrating, draining, discouraging, and downright awful, I stay here. Why? Because known is safe. 

Because I'm addicted to safety.

And when I can't control an unsafe circumstance, I make it safe by control what I can (my time, my body, my food, my work, etc). 

Yet, this is EXACTLY what God's been breaking in me. And we are SO. CLOSE. so close. This week has been SO GOOD. I've been seeing the fruition of faithfulness, and have been seeing the outcome of strides taken in trust days, weeks, months, even years ago. 

So yesterday, I was talking to God, and asking Him about my hatred of weekends. (Cuz let's just be honest, this is getting old). And He said:

Embrace being unsafe. Be in the unknown and uncomfortable, and just BE. 

Don't go back to your control system. Don't manipulate circumstances. Embrace feeling unsafe. And embrace the moment. 

I know that for me, that means slowing down. And I mean, really slowing down. Like, taking a nap over going on a walk. Like, watching a movie with my family simply to be with them instead of conquering the ever-growing pile of laundry. Like, enjoying a meal, and not being afraid of my made-up consequences to not calculating. It means being. And trusting that it's gonna be okay. It means living in the moment of the unknown, and simply not knowing. It means embracing everything that I've deemed "unsafe", and learning that life is found in those places. 

"You're stronger than you think, braver than you believe. Don't buy the lies, don't compromise."

Hope

                "What if the defining moments of our lives are the ones that we embrace the pain, the sorrow, the anger, or the disappointment? Not so that it controls us, but so that it can chisel us into a masterpiece. For there is a beauty inside of those things; a richness that comes from experiencing all of life. Yes, our joy deepens after we have drank deeply from the spring of loss. We stand, choosing to love, even though we understand  how broken our hearts can be when we chose to return love for hate. 

To experience pain is to be alive; for pain is as universal as love, and love is something any living heart can feel."

             My thumbs ran across the keyboard of my iPhone as I walked and jotted that memo months ago. Something keeps drawing me back to it. It's been quite the journey since then. One that has had it's mountaintops and it's valleys. Yet, in those valleys--in those places that I'm so tempted to give into the despair of the moment, and accept defeat and discouragement as the only way out--I remember that even the hard times have a purpose. 

           Maybe I don't see the end right now. Maybe the light at the end of the tunnel seems to have been switched off. Maybe I hurt, and ache, and wonder. But you know what? That's okay.  Because, in these place of intense "yuckiness" (and yes, I made that officially a word ;) ), I've come to realize that my character is being made deeper, stronger, more lovely, more sure, and more desperate for the truest source of Life. 

           These things will pass. Some will leave me with scars, while others will be quickly fleeting. But I hope that I will allow them to help develop my character, my perseverance, and my hope. Because life, all of life, really is worth living.

"... we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame..." (Romans 5:3-5)

The Tale of a Tire

"I'm so thankful I got a flat (tire) today!"

That was what I said to my parents when i got home from work today. Perhaps that seems like a strange thing to be thankful for, so allow me a couple minutes to explain:

My gut reaction, when my (amazing) client came in to tell me that my tire looked flat was, "are you kidding me?? that doesn't fit into my plans at all today!" But after a took a few (meaning, a LOT) of deep breathes, I realized that there was a new way to look at this situation. And as I pondered how I could possibly be thankful for something so inconvenient, I realized this:

This wasn't a nuisance to my day, it was a chance to say 'I trust you, God'. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I was thankful for that flat tire. Because without it, I wouldn't have had the chance to set aside my "perfect" plans and trust God.

Smiling to myself, I put some air into my tire and prayed that it was a slow leak so I could make it back to town to get it fixed.

45 minutes later, and the air was still holding. YAY!

Finishing my cleaning job, I drove to the tire service store in the neighboring town (to mine). Talking to the (super, duper helpful and friendly) guy at the counter ( ;) ), I told him what I needed and then sat down to wait.

Doubt began to sneak in, as I realized how hungry I was, how much I wanted to take a nap, how much I still had to do. but instead of dwelling there, I chose to say, 'I trust You.' Moments later, that trust would be put to the ultimate test....(insert intensity building music)

"...We can't fix your tire. There's excessive dry rot in that tire, the other front tire won't pass inspection (due in 4 weeks), and the back tire has a hole in it."

Uh-oh. I might not know very much about cars, but standing in that garage (where a *strange* amount of mechanics stood watching me), I grasped that I was gonna be forking out some cash today.

Still the words, 'I trust You' flowed through my head and into my heart. Walking back inside to discuss the options, peace quelled the panic of half-the-stuff-he-just-said-i-dont-understand-and-now-he-is-gonna-want-a-LOT-of-money.

As it turns out, I got two new tires, and a plug in the back tire. and, of course, paid all those mechanics for their time (although it didn't seem that hard to stand there and watch a guy explain to me that the first 2 numbers refer to the week of the year, and the last 2 to the year the tire was made in ;) )Then it was off to the gas pumps to fill my (almost empty) tank. (oh and did I mention that before inspection I'll be dealing with a catalytic converter issue?)

Yet, as I walked in the door, I told my parents I was thankful for this all. Why? Because Jesus gave me many, MANY, chances today to move into a deeper trust; a trust that's willing to say, "Today I give you my body, mind, and heart. I give you my moments and my time. I trust that you have plans for GOOD, and not evil....and I trust that you'll give me lots of oxygen for the deep breathes I'lll have to take when I'm not sure I can trust you. :P"

So I am thankful for my flat tire today. I'm thankful that I have a good job with money to pay the bill. I'm thankful that the dry rot was caught before my tire blew (or whatever bad thing happens with that...). I'm thankful that I have first-world problems to complain about, not third-world crisis'. I'm thankful for the kindness that the mechanic showed me, and patience, in explain the options to me. I'm thankful for amazing clients who look out for me. I'm thankful for quick-ness in fixing the problem. And, mostly, I'm thankful that today I had another chance to move deeper into the lesson of redefining what trust looks like in my life--one baby step (or flat tire) at a time!

In the shadow of the cross...

I cannot imagine the insurmountable disappointment, grief, sorrow, bitterness and anger that the crowd, huddling at the base of the cross, must have felt. These are the people who had waited and believed that this was the One; the promised savior. Yet, here he hung. Nailed to a tree, blood and water mingling as they flowed down his side.

I can only imagine that his mother, standing near by, was being torn apart inside. I'd like to think that she knew that her son was different; that he was sent to save the world. But, I also imagine that-- seeing her son, whom she carried inside of her for nine months and brought into the world in a stable, whom she held in her arms and rocked to sleep, whom she raised and loved and cherished, flogged and beaten until the his bones were exposed, mocked and despised by those who had once followed him, crucified to a cross, and pierced in the side with a spear--she was crying out, "Lord, did it have to be this way?"

I know the end of the story. I know that His death wasn't the end. Yet, if I was standing there with the crowd, it would certainly seem as if the story had ended in an abrupt and cruel way. I'd like to think that something deep inside of me would have enough faith to still trust and believe everything Jesus said was true, but those things seem like they would be far away. I'm afraid I'd hang my head, and walk away; let down again.

Yet, surely, something did end that day. With the words 'it is finished', He ended the eternal divide between Yahweh and us. With His last breath, He paid the debt for our transgressions. When he died, he split the curtain of separation; the holy of holies could now be entered, through his blood, by us.
With his death, He bridged the chasm that kept us from God. And He did all of it because He loves us. Because He wants to be with us. Because He knew that the penalty for sin is death, and, without the sacrifice being fulfilled, we couldn't be with Him.

He did what it took to get close to us. Even dying a horrific death.

And it makes my heart stand in awe of who He is. In the shadow of the cross, on that day, in the blackest of black, in the darkest night, death surely seemed to reign. Yet, in that moment, life, also, burst forth; life that forever ended death.

Racing. Loving. Living.

Reaching for a pen, I inked the word Life, in loose cursive, onto my arm. Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply. ‘Inhale. Exhale. Breathe. Remember the reason. Focus.’ Each race, so far, I had a different focusing point. First, I ran for joy. For the joy of running and moving, for the joy of living life, just for joy in general. The next race was the polar opposite. I ran to leave all the anger, pain, and confusion behind me. But each race, I also ran to find that connecting point to God, because, when I run, I do feel the presence of God. Regaining some clarity and peace in the middle of my pre-race jitters, I finished lacing up my well-worn running shoes, plugged in my ear buds, donned my high school track sweatshirt, and bounced out the door.

Focus. Remember….How could I not remember. No, I could remember  so clearly—so vividly—everything about this day, one year prior. In fact, this entire day had been a day of remembering. Beginning with the moment I woke up, like typical for a Sunday, around 7:30am…

At this time last year, I thought to myself, I would have been getting ready to go to church with my family. I even remember what I was wearing—American Eagle Jeans, my black shirt tucked in, and a black belt to complete my outfit. As I rummaged through my little sister’s drawer for her black belt, a cry from my Momma cut through the peaceful air. My Dad had just called home from church (he had gone ahead of us with my brothers to run the projector for the service) to say that a young man from our church was shot and killed earlier that morning. Joel was living overseas, serving as a teacher, with his wife and two little boys. My world went silent.

I so vividly remember how my world went silent. Silence that I have never before heard,  it wasn’t even broken by a moment of breathing. And then the wave of emotions came crashing over me as I stood in the kitchen with my mom and two sisters, my brain frantically attempting to comprehend what this message meant.

Why, if God truly was loving, would He have let this happen? If God was truly all-powerful, loving, just, and righteous, would He let something so horrific happen so someone who loved Him? And if His plans were truly for good and not evil, then why would something so evil happen?

As these questions swirled through my head, bitter sorrow, disappointment, intense sadness, and pain came rushing in. His wife, his little boys, his sister and her family, his brother and his family, his parents, his friends, my heart agonized over the pain they must be in. My sense of empathy raged inside of me, I didn’t even want to know how much they must be hurting, because I didn’t know how I would bear it.

My feet kept moving, finding a rhythm on the pavement. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe.

I so clearly remember almost this exact time last year, I was walking down to this same place, only I was seeking solace, or refuge, or…escape. My house was heavy with the grief and sorrow of the mourning. My head was fatigued from all the thoughts, emotions, and feelings that were running through it, threatening to drag me under it’s current.  Instead of finding any of those things, I heard the sound of cheering and laughter, and remembered that it was the weekend of this race. Anger flaring up again.
‘God, these people go on like nothing happened. Their world is entirely the same. And yet, something did happen! Something horrible, tragic, and awful. And they act like it’s just another day?!’ My anger soon gave way to weariness, and I veered off the road toward a little creek. Finding an old table, I sat down. Tired. Confused. Numb, but in so much pain. My world, in which things were generally good, suddenly collided with terrorism. My benefit of the doubt ran into the brutality of reality, creating a, seemingly, cruel and unforgiving, place.  And, slowly, doubt crept in.

Focus. Remember…

Sitting on that old bench, I pulled out my pen and poured out my heart onto paper. Questions ranted through the pages,

‘Is this really best? How can this be fair? Wasn’t there another way?’ 

Yet, quietly, a still, small voice whispered through the chaos and confusion, the dark void, and spoke. With gentle, but passionate words, He spoke, reminding me of who He is, of His plans. As my pen kept writing, somehow bitterness and sorrow began to intertwine with hope and joy. Somehow in the middle of my grief, the hope of a hope entered.

…Breathe.

 Reflecting on the life, and death, of Joel, I saw a life lived in love. Deep love. He loved his family, his God, and the people he served. (and, after all this happened, it became known to the world that this people loved him too, as they took to the streets to protest and bravely tell the world that they, too, were deeply upset and hurt by this.) I knew that Joel had already counted the cost; he knew the risk in following his call. And yet, he still followed…because he loved. And that love was the source of his passion. I remember the quiet presence that Joel possessed whenever he shared in our youth group or church, yet there was a strength, confidence, and honor in that, that commanded the attention when he shared. And in the following weeks/months, I would begin to understand even more deeply just how much he really loved. His life exuded love for those around him. In that love, he chose to live. And in that love, he died. I think that Joel’s life wasn’t taken; it was given.

Moving, running, breathing, connecting…

Only a couple hours before I had hit the pavement, I had left my church and driven to another local church. I was there to support a friend who, in front of hundreds of people, was rededicating her life and trust to Jesus through baptism. Tears welled in my eyes, and my heart swelled with pride as I watched her and fourteen other people make their public declaration. It, too, reminded me of that afternoon a year ago…I had been pushed to a place of desperation, I knew I had a choice to make. Sure, I had given my life to Christ. I had been baptized. I wanted to live life well, and do good things. But now the stake had been moved; life had intensified. The risk was higher and harder. The requirements to go forward included a decision. Either I trusted in a God of redemption, restoration, strength, goodness, courage, and life, even in the face of death. Or I could deny that He was all those things, and let the doubt wash over me. In the doubt, I found and ease; honestly, it made more sense to my grieving and mourning heart.

Yet, I didn’t want to believe that was true. Looking at Joel’s life, I knew I wanted to live like that. If my life was required of me to give, then it would be given. I rededicated, re-consecrated, my life, to a God that I saw in his life; a God that made life worth living, and love worth the risk.

And now, more clearly than ever, I knew life wasn’t filled with mostly good things, it couldn’t be. Not in a world so filled with horrific and evil things. But what it could be full of is love. Love that covers over the pain, sorrow, bitterness, anger, hurt, evil, tragedy, and loss. Love that made it worth trusting, believe, hoping. And love that made all the hurt worth it. Love that loved loving people. Life, in the mystery of the good and bad intertwining, was worth living when love comes in.

So as I ran, I knew I ran for life. For everything that it included, remembering how much I’ve learned since this day last year.  I ran to honor Joel’s life. I ran because in watching his wife live through this past year, I stood in awe at her grace, strength and trust. I ran for his sister, brother, parents and friends. I ran for love. I mostly just ran for life, with everything that came with it. A life well live, is a life well loved.

(and the details? Okay, I ran my personal best time. The official gun time was 18:41. I placed 11^th overall, and first for the women. I won the series (after winning both the February and March race) for the women. And, mostly, I just got to run with other incredibly people.)

After almost a year of not blogging, I'm sitting here ready to write again. And yet, I'm not even sure where to begin.

My last post was a post of intense brokenness. Honestly, a lot of last year was about breaking apart. And growing. And learning. And loving. And breaking more, deeper. Because of the intensity of the whole year, I'm not sure how I could even begin to summarize it into a post.

So I'm not even gonna try.

What I am gonna do is start writing again. (Or at least that's gonna be the thought behind all this :P ) Because where I've been doesn't define me, but it has shaped me and helped to make me into who I am. So that will flow into my writing.

And so, as spring begins again--as the trees start to bud, and the bulbs start to poke through, and some of the brave, little flowers bloom. And as the air becomes (eventually) warmer, and the sun shines a little more intensely and longer--my fingers are ready to write about my ramblings, thoughts, amusements, and life...again. So, hello again, blogging buddies :)

Broken.

Spring has always been one of my favorite seasons. The blooming flowers, budding trees, gentle rain, sunshine, and warm breeze--all of it fills me with hope and inspiration. It invigorates me. It breaths renewed life and a sense of expectancy into my heart. It reawakens a part of my heart that seems to rest during the long, cold winter months.
But this spring= aroused itself and found me with crying eyes, and a heavy heart. It burst forth, ready to renew the world, only to stumble upon me, with my world...broken. It awakened to my grief, mourning and heart-ache for the death of an honored and admired friend. To the deep hurt and pain for his little boys, his wife, his mom and dad, his sister, his brother and his friends.

It awakened to me broken.

Instead of the joy that usually comes as I breath in the spring air, I didn't seem to smell at all. My eyes seemed to not see the world vividly, my ears didn't hear the birds, my heart didn't find hope. Everything seemed covered in greyness; blanketed by sorrow.

After sometime, a deep part of me began to rise up; it began to remind me of the faithfulness of God, to remind me of the promises that had been made. To remind me that the sun would shine again, the hope would come again, the joy would spring forth again. And, my heavy heart was beckoned into a place of rest, like a child caught up in their mother's arms at the end of a long day of running around. The promise wasn't that I would not grieve, it was simply that there were arms to hold me. But even so, the world didn't seem to have the beauty it once held.

...And then, just like that, standing in the middle of the rain, my eyes opened, and my heart gasped. Before me was a world stunningly beautiful. Absolutely vivid.
A world that blended color so perfectly, a world that hoped, and a world that held the hope of restoration...even among the ruins.

A like a small whisper, it came.

"Everything breaks to live. The wholeness and life flows from the once broken place. The very season that brings you so much hope, is full of brokenness."

That cannot be. I try my best to prevent breaking. I watch my step so that I don't trip. I keep promises so I don't break trust. I guard my heart and hold high standards so I don't suffer heartbreak. Yes, I grasp at any control that makes me feel like I can prevent breaking. Spring holds the hope of healing...right?

"Everything breaks to live..." The words repeated back to me. Yes, maybe spring held the hope of healing, but was it truly full of brokenness?


For a flower to bloom, a bud must break.
For a bird to spread it's wings and fly, and sing, an egg must break.
For a gentle warm rain to fall, the clouds must break.
For the sun to shine and the wind to blow, the overcast sky must break.
For a caterpillar to become a beautiful butterfly, the cocoon must break.
For springs to flow forth and streams to flow, the ground must break.

Spring, so full of hope and life, is full of broken things; things that broke to live.

One was broken by the world, for the world. His side was pierced, broken, until blood and water flowed from His side. His skin was ripped and broken by a whip in the hands of men that hated him. His brow was broken by a crown of thorns.
His very life, broken, for the world.
So that, from his death, He would live eternally, giving hope and that same life to the world. Yes, the world that hated him; A world separated from His father's love.

Why?

Because He loves them.

So, even spring is testifying of the resurrection power for Christ.

Still, my heart breaks. It's still broken for the pain of those who are hurting, mourning and grieving. It's humbled by the love that Joel. And because of that, it's found a deeper love. Now it's also broken for the world; for the people so far from the plans of God, yet so loved by Him. And it is broken at the mercy, grace and passionate love He has for them. It breaks because they desperately need the hope I've found; They desperately need salvation.

It breaks with LOVE.

Yes, even for those who hate, even for those who kill.

Broken. Broken. Broken.

For from brokenness flows hope, love, restoration, redemption and...Life.

Many have been waiting to hear, and not wanting to ask....

So, finally, here is the blog I promised....explaining, but not defending my decision.

No. I'm not going back to Millersville University this spring. Yes, it has only been a semester. No, I don't have bad grades. No, I didn't fail out. Yes, I enjoyed myself. Yes, the program there is wonderful! No, I'm not anti-social and don't know how to make friends. Yes, it was hard, but not impossible. Yes, it was exactly where I needed to me....(wait...why are you leaving again??)

Alright, let me try my best to explain.

There comes a point where everything we can see fails us--that the call in our hearts no longer makes sense to us--but we still have a choice; to follow that calling, or to ignore it. And then, sometimes, I think I have it figured out. It's one of those times that I say, "Oh, I get it! This calling doesn't make sense, but here, I'll slap my logic onto it, and it will turn out like this! See, now it makes sense!"

Silly me. Will I ever learn that my ways simply are NOT His ways??

But anyway, that didn't really answer the questions that I began with. So, let's back up to January of this year....

January- I really wasn't planning on attending college, let alone Millersville. I don't know why, I just didn't want to. I certainly didn't think that the things that I wanted to do in college were a possibility, because I just didn't think I was good enough.

February- Well, God starts to move in my heart, and I begin to want to go to college, so I apply to Millersville University...a place close enough to home that I can be with my family, but still not a community college. I'm accepted as an undeclared major. (I still didn't think I'd be good enough for what I really wanted to do.)

March-On a whim (that could have only been a "God-Prompting") I email someone from the music department at Millersville to see if there's any chance since I've never been classically trained in music. I figured that way I can always say I tried. The email I receive back was from Dr. Houlahan, Chair of the music department--He wanted to get a phone number to call me. I'm on the phone with him within 10 mins. On that call, he does a brief interview that included me singing to him, concludes that I can indeed sing, and right away emails one of the voice professors to set up lessons to prepare of my audition into the music department. Meanwhile, because it was required, I submit my application to the music department, but Dr. Houlahan has reassured me that, as long as I can pass the audition, I'll be accepted.

April- I go once a week to MU to prepare for my auditions. Professor Sims worked with me (did I mention for FREE) so that I would be prepared. They were some of the best voice lessons I have ever taken.

May-I audition (past the deadline) into the music department at MU, formally interview with Dr. Houlahan, and am officially accepted into the program I didn't think I was good enough for.

Whew...The story isn't even over yet.

June, July, and the beginning of August are filled with excitement for what's in store, for what's coming next, and an underlying peace remains in my heart; I know that this is right.

End of August- orientation....(drum roll) ALRIGHT!!! CAN I LEAVE COLLEGE BEFORE I START...and the overwhelming anxiety, that I've fought so hard to contain, breaks loose and I wonder what on earth I'm doing at this school, in this program. And I'm scared to death. BUT...but...I KNOW that this is right still. This is where I need to be. To leave, would be to deny the calling. So I stay, and I begin the journey of college. The peace remains deep within my heart, which reassures me that this. is. right. (you can read a post from that time)

And so I journeyed through college and settled into the rhythm and pattern of life as a collage student. But I wanted to leave. And I knew, absolutely knew, that I couldn't.

I don't quit. I just don't. That's not programmed into me. I don't take the easy way out. I don't just do what the crowd does. And to leave then, wasn't an option. Because, to me, leaving just because it was hard, wasn't even an option. I knew I had to stay. And I knew that God wanted me to stay. And He wouldn't tell me how long I had to stay. Just that for now, for this moment, I had to stay.

And mid-October rolled around, and I suddenly realized that I could do this! No, it wasn't easier. But I could do it. And I was learning things left and right, about music, about me and about God. And I was staying.

And so, I stayed. And I committed to doing my best, whatever that looked like, committing my heart to being there, and did just that.

So November rolls around...and I begin to think of leaving. Not because it was too hard. Not because I wasn't good enough. Not because I couldn't do it. But because I wasn't sure that that was where I was suppose to /stay/. But I kind of talked it out with my parents, but just couldn't make sense of why God would have called me to some place and all of the sudden ask me to leave...It didn't make sense in my mind. So, I wrestled with it. And struggled through it. And prayed a lot for wisdom.
But as I wrestled, God began to bring up lessons that I was learning, or had learned in this semester of college; lessons far to vast for me to type out and put down in a blog. Lessons that included, but were not limited to, God's absolute provision, above and beyond my expectations. how the little things in life really make life sweeter. How to choose to see things through his eyes and perspective. How to lean on him, every moment of every day. How faithful and good he is. How He so desperately wants to be my support and is so ready to give me the strength to face the day and breath encouragement and life, if I'd only ask. Lessons of peace, patience and joy. And on and on...


And only after I acknowledged all these lessons (and was really impressed that God has done all that so gently and without my knowing), did He begin to give me the understanding that to learn all these lessons, about me, about Him, about life, it would be easiest (not to be confused with easy) if I was at school, where I had to be in the middle of the very things that would leave me flailing around, trying to keep from drowning, and, in turn, push me closer to Him.

So, yes, that is what led to this decision. And yes, it was INCREDIBLY difficult to make. But somehow, I thought that making the decision was the hard part, but I realized that it really didn't get easier...those questions as the beginning are the typically asked (or unasked, but wanted to be asked) questions that I deal with now. I'm also now going to be working full-time, and starting to build my cleaning business (which is another whole story :) )

And there is so much more I could share, but since this post is growing incredibly long, I hope that you have a very merry and blessed Christmas and holiday season!

Lessons from a...tree...

Our house like so many others, have traditions, especially around Christmastime.

For as long as I can remember, my family has had a tradition that on December 1st we "set up Christmas". We begin our time with dancing to Big Fat Santa and Santa Clause is Coming to Town (and as the years move on, my younger siblings have started to request that the shades get shut so the neighbors can't see :P ) After that, we set up the decorations. We don't go "all out", the front of our house doesn't really "look" like Christmas, but inside we decorate with items that, might not be the "best" but that have character and meaning; Our advent calendar that even have been enjoyed by the dogs (hence the teeth marks) and that we rotate who gets to put the piece on to count down the days until Christmas, the stars that hang from our dining room light, given to us by our Grandma from her dog, Star. The cookie cutters in red and green, shaped like bells and stars that no one knows where they came from. The wooden nativity that half the pieces are officially MIA. The big red bow around the mail box.The garland and poinsettias hung above our fire place, concealing the hooks that we hang our stockings on, stockings that were knit by our Grandma. And our tree. That itself is a tradition. We all go down and carry up our "artificial" tree (only we've all gotten much older and can't fit 2 people plus a big box through the doorway). And then we go back down and carry up our box of ornaments. Each of us have our own that contain ornaments dating back to our first Christmas. And then the "set up". Every year, without fail, we argue over who gets "call out" the instructions. And after that little argument is resolved we go to work putting all the branches on, mom strings the the lights on and put the top on, daddy puts the star (that's far to heavy for the poor tree) on, and all the kids put our ornaments on, or at least as many as we can fit :P

But slowly those things change a little. They're still there, but instead of just mom writing down a name for the "caller of the instructions", last year she added "or so and so's boyfriend/girlfriend", which we all thought was funny, but I realized that it's TRUE. Last year it was quite possible that that would be the case, and it really is this year.

And as I sat, processing through the bittersweetness of this season, coming to terms with the fact that my childhood is over, that the "normal" my heart has been holding out for just isn't going to come back, I looked--really looked--at our tree. And thought about how UGLY it is.

I mean, this tree is so...artificial. So very, very ugly. And every year when I help set it up I think, "wow...time for a new tree soon??", but that night, sitting there with the lights glowing and the ornaments decorating it's (flimsy) branches, and the star dimly glowing, I smiled. Because that tree is one of the most beautiful and festive trees I have ever seen. It has character and it's ugliness all but disappears with the love that is symbolized by the ornaments. It's been part of our family, and has our memories attached to it. And I laughed, because suddenly, something so hideous, turns out to be the most beautiful, most really, most authentic.

...And to those ones...

...The ones who fight. Valiantly.The ones who pick up the defense of those who cannot fight for themselves. The ones who have vowed to win...or die trying. The ones who understand and acknowledge that defeat is not an option anymore. To the brave, the dedicated, the loyal, the unsung warriors.
To the same ones who have lost sight of the victory. To the ones on their knees, in surrender of all they've fought to gain. To those who have surrender their sword at the request of the enemy, because they see no other way. To the ones who have come to believe the lies. To the ones that don't see their worth, their value, their honor. To the ones who have forgotten the quest; forgotten who they are.

I speak to the targeted, zoned in on, and attacked warriors. I speak to the men of this generation-my generation.


Your pain is not longer hidden, unseen, tucked away. Your fight is no longer just on your shoulders. One has come, ready to fight for you.

You have not failed; falling is not failing, it's just a chance to rise. You are not worthless, or unworthy, you are still called and chosen. Don't believe the lies, remember the light-the glory-that is rightfully yours. Choose to trust, even in the unseen. Choose to believe, the truth.

Brave hearts, don't forget your quest. don't forget the call. fight on. You will win if you fight.

Josie's Song

One of the things I love doing is telling stories. Sometimes, I write stories about my life, sometimes I write metaphors, sometimes I write about someone I wish I was, and sometime I write about people. People who's life-story has impacted me, or who don't have a voice, or that amaze me. I firmly believe that everyone has a story, and every story should be told. It saddens when I hear people say that they don't have a story, and I wish I could show them that they do. That they have a story that isn't finished, a story that does impact the world, that does make a difference. But that's kind of a rabbit-trail to the real reason I'm blogging.

I wanted to write about someone who I've never meet, but I've heard about, seen pictures of, and prayed for. A young girl who, right now, is half way across the world, (hopefully) sleeping. A little girl named Josie.

Josie lives with a foster family in China. They love her dearly and have taken wonderful care of her, but she didn't have a forever family...until recently.

Dear friends of mine have been on the journey of adoption. Within the past 3 years, they have brought home two adorable little girls from China, but their hearts were stirred again, and they have listened. After quite some time, lots of prayer, uncertainty, fears, and joy, they have (finally) been matched to this little girl who captured their hearts on one of their previous visits to China!

So, that's the history. Now, this week as I was running, I was thinking, talking to Abba, and just listening to my music. As I listened to the words of the song that was playing, I was singing along. It's one of my favorite songs; one that gives me hope. But as I listened, Josie came to my mind. And as I listened again to the song, I felt like this was Josie's song.

Josie, I've never met you, yet I feel like I know you somehow. As I think about you, I really feel like you have the heart of a warrior, the spirit that is humble and merciful and thankful. Yet you have a strength that will overcome. You heart is full of faith. In my heart, I don't doubt that you will walk someday, unassisted because of your faith, that you will overcome the odds and what this world says you can do, and do it, because you believe. Faith that can move mountains, quiet peace. And when that day comes, there will be much rejoicing, yet I have a feeling that you will do it, not to prove them wrong, but rather simply because you trust. As this song plays, I thought of you. I cannot wait to meet you! Praying it's soon. Keep the faith, hold onto hope, and continue to trust.

Love, Lissie




What Faith Can Do by Kutless

Everybody falls sometimes
Gotta find the strength to rise
From the ashes
And make a new beginning

Anyone can feel the ache
You think it's more than you can take
But you're stronger
Stronger than you know

Don't you give up now
The sun will soon be shining
You gotta face the clouds
To find the silver lining

I've seen dreams that move the mountains
Hope that doesn't ever end
Even when the sky is falling
I've seen miracles just happen
Silent prayers get answered
Broken hearts become brand new
That's what faith can do

It doesn't matter what you've heard
Impossible is not a word
It's just a reason
For someone not to try

Everybody's scared to death
When they decide to take that step
Out on the water
It'll be alright

Life is so much more
Than what your eyes are seeing
You will find your way
If you keep believing

Overcome the odds
You don't have a chance
(That's what faith can do)
When the world says you can't
It'll tell you that you can

Even if you fall sometimes
You will have the strength to rise

October is approaching, and with that the colors of fall are beginning to show their faces again. The wind is cooling down, and the apples are at peak yumminess! And I am choosing to savor this time. Yes, I'm choosing to look around and remember the greatness of God, shown to me through the beauty of the changing trees.

Life is crazy. It's stressful, overwhelming, tiring, and, yet, I'm still standing; I'm finding my stride. I read through some of my journal entries from right before college started and they remind me and give me hope and strength to continue even through the toughest days.

I'm still learning a lot about everything. I'm still discovering more about me. and that. is. good.

Consumed

College started this past Monday, a mere 4 days ago. All I can say is this: I'm still standing, I'm still breathing, and I still believe in God.
No, honestly, college is...good...I think. It's very different and right now I still feel like i'm in survival mode, but my parents are my rock through this. Right now, it's their encouragement that gets me through. The first two days of college, actually, the orientation (Wednesday, Thursday and Friday), the weekend, and then, the first two days of college, it was honestly like everything broke inside me...basically, I cried more those days than I have in the past five months. But...I made it. And here I am. And here God is. In the midst...

...And He is calling, asking to be allowed to consume my life to the point that everything I say and do is saturated with his love, his covering, his joy, his strength; Him. And He doesn't want the 10 minutes a day. He wants me to let him into EVERYTHING I do. He wants to come with me when I'm driving. He wants to be the one sitting with me in class. When I start to feel panic rising in my heart during the lecture, He wants me to talk to him about it...right then. He wants to be with me on my run. He wants to consume me. To show me and teach me how to journey deeper, even in this new phase. Not just the "dedicated" time.

Stay Strong...Remaining Strong.

My Heart's Desire

Today, as I was pondering my life and processing through where I am, I had a thought that made me halt my thinking, rewind, and pause again to gaze curiously at this new revelation. It boiled down the the fact that I am standing in the coming-of-age chapter of life that I, at one time, could only imagine.
After coming to that rather shocking revelation, I just let my thoughts flutter around like butterflies, flying where they wanted to. They didn't rest on questions like, "I wonder when I'll start to date" or "I wonder who I'll get married to". Instead, they flutter around and rested on a chord in my heart, a chord that simply asks, "what does my heart desire most? what does it desperately want?" I don't know if I'm unique, or strange, but often I answer my own questions as I processes. And so my heart began to answer my mind. My heart desires to know it is treasured. My heart wants someone to tell me every single day that I am loved. My heart desires to know that it's captivating and beautiful. My heart desires to love deeply, without fear. It desires to trust, to hope, to journey with someone who understands. It desires to be who it's created to be, without judgment. It desires to be held. And in return, my heart desires to love passionately, deeply, recklessly. It wants to "unveil mystery (as John Eldridge puts it)" It desires to blossom for that love. And to return everything wholly.
Now, why might I tell you all this, when it's so deeply personal? Because, that is not the end of the thought process. No, it continued on, continued to go deeper into my heart.

Abba is everything my heart desires. And his call upon my life, no matter who enters or who leaves, is to follow him. And as I do, everything my heart desires will be fulfilled. The deepest desires that blossom and grow inside me, are fulfilled in Abba. He is the perfect romancer. He knows the beats of my heart better than I do. And even more than that, every single day He is telling me he loves me, that he is captivated, that I can trust him, that I rely on him, that he will hold me and up hold me.

And it makes me stand in awe. what else can I do when I'm loved like this?

Everything my heart desires is already being fulfilled. Someday, it will become tangible; someone will fulfill those desires. Until that time, I remain. and remain strong.

...Love is strong as death, As fierce as the grave. Many waters cannnot quench this love...

Recently i was walking in a rainstorm, it was absolutely beautiful! There's just something about walking in the rain; it's almost like you're dancing to the melody of a thousand tears--sometimes the pour forth because of great joy, and other times they flood the earth because of pain, anger or total sadness. This time, it was raining joy, love, peace...yes, mostly peace. It's in the rain that i feel so close to Abba. Not many cars are on the road, not many people are out walking. There's no hustle and bustle that usually occurs in a town. It's still. And i take off my shoes and walk in the middle of the street, on the yellow lines, lift my arms and spin. And let go of the worries, of the pain, of the frustration that comes from being alive. I let it go, if only for a short time, to dance, to be alive, to be free, to let my heart be romanced. Rain is a love letter to my heart. It holds a place that speaks into my very being. I don't know why, it just does. It's one of the things that make me feel so alive. As i was walking, I realized that it's my dream to someday share my rain walks with somebody else. And someday, that will come. Someday, someday, someday...And what a wonderful story it will be. But it would be so silly for me to sit in the window and watch the rain, just waiting for someone to come and walk with me. That's not me! I'm gonna go and enjoy, to the fullest, and walk in the rain with my Jesus. for now.

The day that we stop realizing and enjoying the little things, is the day we start to die-a little inside. Oh, it can wake up again, but i am determined that going to college, working, running, whatever it is i'm doing, cannot consume me to the point that i start to die...I've only just begun to live, why would i want to die again? What is it that makes your spirit sing? even if it's just taking 2 minutes to watch a tree sway in the wind, or sipping a cup of coffee outside, or laughing. whatever it is, do it. live life. this isn't home, the things that romance our hearts are just a shadow of Home, but what a wonderful taste; what a wonderful reminder of what is to come. and what a blessing to know that our hearts are being romanced by the Creator so that life, however temporary, is so full of love, of joy, of hope.

Remain Strong.

Thunderstorms, Epic Music and Springtime

Wow. I totally, and truly, love springtime! The vivid colors, the thunderstorms, the smell of wet earth, the sound of birds singing again, does it get any better???

I really think the reason I love spring so much is 'cuz it follows winter. It's the proof of the hope that I've clung to on the coldest, darkest days in January; and it parallels the walk of a christian--it's like proof that the light will come, that something better is gonna come. :)

I was officially accepted into Millersville University for the Fall 2010 semester. Majoring in music, focus in Voice Performance. It's amazing to me how quickly it happened (3 weeks, applied, accepted, auditioned and accepted into the music college) and i'm PUMPED!! I've been getting alot of questions like, "well what do you plan to do with that degree??" guess what? i don't know. private lessons? performing? i don't know. What i do know is that, if God wants this to be my next step, who am i to say no? I know he'll provide (and he knows that he's gotta come thru). But just in taking that step. daring to believe in myself enough. listening to the call, and follow thru, I've won victory. I charged into a realm that before I decided I wasn't good enough to go into. But now, now i know, I'm a child of the light. I carry that with me. I walk with dignity, integrity, honor, poise. I am loved by my maker. I hold my head high, my shoulders back, tall, upright, and I carry myself as a princess, i carry myself with confidence. It wasn't about passing or failing the audition. It was about daring. daring to believe. daring to try. God wasn't asking me to judge myself on /they're/ ratings, it was about my heart. And i won. :)

There's still so much i'm learning, day to day, week to week, even minute by minute, but here's the thing, deep inside my heart, it's found joy. Joy that refuses to let go, even for a minute. Joy that remains even in the darkest night. And the top most part of my heart, the surface part that controls my face and emotions, that's found true joy too! In between, well, let's just say, that's the part I have to tell, "remain strong. remain strong. it's worth the pain." Clinging to hope, fighting for truth, daring to believe.

Redemption vs. Regret

...There are so many places i could start...there are so many things i could say...there's so much i could ramble on about...there's so many words, and thought and feelings, but i'm gonna try, notice /try/ to give an update on something really close to my heart recently...so hold on, get the popcorn, and read away...:P

This past month...wow. Can i just say, nope. i can't. i don't even know how to sum it all up. lol. I've been working (which is such a blessing...besides the money provision, it's been so good! the lesson's i've learned [how to work with...ahem...different...kinds of employers, to just giving my mind a track to run on] it's just been a blessing....) two part time jobs. But inside, personally, alot has been going on. In my heart, in my head, in my spirit. I've really learned something; there /is/ healing in pain. This past month i've had to face some pain that i didn't really think i was gonna have to face for awhile. I thought that i had pretty well established that i /wasn't/ ready. but you know god, he has different plans. and i guess he decided that /now/ was a fine time for me to learn. So, thus began another part of my journey. and i felt strongly at the beginning of this that i had two options; I could close my heart, deny, avoid, and run away. Or i could remain open, vulnerable, and fully alive, fully living from my true heart. But i had to decided. and that was the line. What i decided would change things. I couldn't not decided. and i chose...I chose to remain open, knowing that that would bring pain, but knowing that the other way, i just couldn't go back there again...And with that knowledge, abba began...

Because of the lack of personal touch that this lovely Internet gives us, i'm not gonna go into details, besides it would take me f.o.r.e.v.e.r. to write a month's worth of processing, but i really wanna blog about redemption...

At one point, i was talking to God about some decisions i had made. and i was saying, "Abba, this regret is such a different emotion for me. I've never really lived in regret. I've always seen the redemption." Well, God (what does he think he is? almighty or something? :P) told me this, "Lis, that's becuz you could /see/ it. you were either looking in hind-sight, or you could see the big picture...so, just becuz you can't /see/ it now, does that mean you're just gonna stop believing in the redemption? Or are you gonna /trust/ that it is coming. that restoration and redemption is coming?"
Well, yah, i suppose that makes sense. no wonder i didn't feel like myself...ok. so i'll just stop regretting...that's a choice. it is. But a choice that i made. and it's soooo freeing. Redemption is coming. I know that. But that means that i can't live in regret anymore. I can't have both. I had to decide. And i chose redemption. and i still choose redemption. I can't see all the picture. i can't even guess at what restoration will look like. but it's that hope. that trust. and that's been on my heart alot lately. to trust. to hope. to believe. to keep standing.

Where have my friends been thru all this? What can i say? they all walked away...:P No! I don't think i could be standing without my friends. time and time again they have proven themselves to get my back, to walk beside, to encourage me, to help me stand, even to carry me, in times like these. and i am beyond grateful. I'm dumbfounded. I know full well that they could have walked away, and at times, i wouldn't have blamed them...but they didn't only stay. they drew closer. And, wow, i have amazing friends! :D

So, it's past my bedtime, and i need to go...I know this post probably doesn't make much sense, but you can just get together with me sometime...we can talk then...;)

Remain. "The shadows prove the sunshine..."

(out of ideas for the title)

Wow. There has been so much going on lately. Working two part time jobs is exhausting and yet fulfilling in a very different and unique way.

This past week has been very odd, especially in the ways of my heart. My heart hasn't felt this alive in, hum....,forever? It's a strange and wonderful feeling, just to soak in the joy of a heart fully alive. Oh, it's not there yet, but there is a deep, deep place in my heart that only music and my Abba can touch. I imagine that when people talk of "being in love" a deep part of their heart comes alive like this, but for now, it's gonna stay gated off--closed--just for me and abba. well, and music. music stirs my heart in a deep, intense, passionate way that nothing else does. except god. and sometimes writing. and sometimes running. or dancing. or swinging. or walking in the rain. or sometimes...ok. but in this deep way, it's new. it's amazing. But I once read that with the opportunity for a heart fully alive, comes the opportunity for great pain. and i think that that is so true. Cuz in many ways this week has had this weird two layer sort of thing going on. the bottom layer is achy, but the over layer is this true joy. and true happiness. like the laughter and smiles, those haven't been fake or forced. they have truly been real. so it's kind of an odd place to be, but it's good.

so life keeps plugging along, and i've decided that the joy of a heart fully alive, is worth the pain that comes. so even when it's hard, i've been working to remain. in spite of the pain. becuz i've tasted the victory. i know that there will be an end. Remain strong!

Barrista

/bəˈristi; It. bɑristi/ Show SpelledNoun:

a person who is specially trained in the making and serving of coffee drinks, as in a coffee bar.

Yep, I'm training for my new job!! Abba is so faithful!! I applied on January 3, 2011. Folklore Coffee Company called last Wednesday, I interviewed Thursday, and i started today. (after a quick, little trip to Findlay, Ohio for a four-day weekend.) The training is intense (I never knew there was so much to learn about...coffee!), there's a science to everything, but it's good. It will keep me busy and not bored! And there's free coffee! :) I'm quite a bit overwhelmed because there is so much to process, but I'm sure I'll catch on quickly! So I've completed my first day of training, I train two more days and then I start on Saturday! So, here i go! I'm so thankful for the job! AND...when i didn't hear back from folklore, I lined up another job with a friend to help her with her cleaning business, so now I'm juggling two jobs...and still running...oh and friends...and family...and...yah, I'm overwhelmed. but just one day at a time!

And i have to get to bed for tonight, but I'm excited to post soon (haha, if i have time sometime!) about what Abba has been doing in my heart!

My Dear Ava,

You have been long waited for and your arrival has been much anticipated. I have no doubt, though, that the timing was perfect. From the moment that you entered this world and took your first breath of air, until you have lived a long full life and take your last, promise me that you will never doubt who you have been called forth and created to be.
You have been chosen as a light, just remember that it doesn't take a blinding light to start a fire going, rather it takes only a small persistent flame that refuses to give up or blow out to set it all ablaze. No matter what wind or rain comes, walk in your Abba God's light and let your little, but steady, flame burn.
I know, even now, that your life will not be without hardship; honestly no life is. but keep your head up, precious one, for you are so much more than any lie you might have to face. The joy of life lived to it's fullest certainly outweighs the times when you fight the lies. It may seem, at one point, unfair that your parents gave you up, but remember that God redeems; He knows what he is doing. He will never leave you. He will never forsake you. And he has placed the love of true parents in the heart of your forever family. The, too, will be with you; they are not going to leave you as your walk on the path of life. I've seen they're love for you before they even knew your face, they loved you so deeply, Ava Mei, like only parents and family can do. And they love you still. If you ever wonder why someone in your life would chose to walk away, know that they are the ones missing out, because you, Ava, are so special.
Even before I have met you, or held you, or heard you laugh, I can feel a calling, distinct on your life. It is not for me to know what all that calling is, but there is a calling there. Perhaps I am wrong, but i sense a sweet, loving, caring, laid back, joyful, happy, deep, sensitive, thoughtful personality in you. Don't be afraid, though, as you get older, to step out of your little life, and let that flame flicker brightly. I can assure you of this: You are called, you have a destiny. You're very life is proof of that fact. Abba God placed his hand on you and cleared the path for you to come into the world, just as he is clearing the path for you're life.

You are a light. Shine beautifully, Beautiful Ava!
Love, Lissie