Christmas.

IMG_0111-001  I’m a little late on this Christmas post. I began writing it a few weeks before Christmas, but it has been on my heart again, so here it is.

I always so enjoy Christmastime. The lights, the scents of cinnamon and evergreen, and of course the wrapping of gifts with the hope of eliciting smiles from loved ones all bring me joy. Not to mention that the stories that make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside abound.

Right? Well, not always.

Honestly, Christmas this year made me weary.

I wanted to make an honest attempt to focus on Christ, and not all the trappings and yet still enjoy that “holly jolly Christmas” sort of spirit (whatever that actually means?).

However, the stories that I heard this Christmas season have been anything but warm and fuzzy.

I initially wrote out a list of these stories, but it was rather depressing.

It’s easy to look around and spot sin and its consequences.

It is easy to look forward to the day when we are in Heaven so we don’t have to deal with pain, or the results of people’s sin. And yes, there IS hope for this, I thought to myself. But there was still something missing.

But as I pondered, a reason to delight became so much apparent.

My verse for this Christmas was the following:

“The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it? I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind, to reward a man according to his conduct, according to what his deeds deserve.” – Jeremiah 17:9-10

You might think this a bit morose, but it actually led to a source of joy. Stay with me for a minute.

My heart is desperately sick.  Yes, mine.

And oh, how I recently have seen this, much to my dismay.

However, I like to forget this fact. I like to look around at all the things that are happening because of people rejecting God, and wearily look to a day when I won’t have to deal with it all anymore.  But in doing only that, I miss something. I miss the fact that every single one of us, has, without Christ, a heart that is desperately sick.

I pray often to be disciplined by God. The results are not always enjoyable, but they are good for me. He has revealed to me a glimpse of the state of my heart left on its own, and I shudder. Let me tell you, I don’t enjoy the thought that I am someone who has spat in the face of God: a lying, stealing, unfaithful, murderer (to mention a few). I do not enjoy typing that out in the least.

We are all, unable on our own merit to stand before a holy God. My heart is capable of the same wickedness of anyone else. How uncomfortable that is. When I forget that though, I am in danger. Pride begins to sneak in and I begin to think that, well, I’m really not that bad. I forget that without Christ I am just as capable of any sin there is, and just as guilty as if I had done them all.

It is when this realization of how much I deserve punishment, how I deserve to be eternally separated from God that I begin to appreciate my need for a Savior. That I begin to rejoice in the idea of Christmas. It’s not just to give a hope than one day I won’t have to deal with pain. It is personal.

I was in chains, on death row, something that I had earned. Deserved.  We have all heard that the wages of sin is death. I have earned death, there is no way around it. So have you.

But because of nothing I could ever do to deserve it, the perfect, holy son of God came to live among us who were desperately sick. He lived among us at a time when things were not easy, in a world we had ruined. And we killed Him. He suffered God’s wrath for us.  Willingly. Lovingly. To restore us to a right relationship with Him. To bring glory to His name.

“Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery.” (Hebrews 2:14-15 ESV)

What is this? How can this be?

It boggles my mind.

I don’t like realizing how weak I am. How flawed I am.  But when I reach this point I am able to better understand the wonder of a God who would suffer the worst thing ever (separation from God and death) that I, you, we, might by surrendering ourselves to His Lordship obtain the best thing ever (a relationship with the God who created the universe).

How much more dear that becomes when I see how much I am in need of Him!

And what a delight it is, as I see that what seems beyond what I could ever hope for has already been given.

Merry Christmas.

“the people dwelling in darkness

have seen a great light,

and for those dwelling in the region and shadow of death,

on them a light has dawned.” (Matthew 4:16 ESV)

“May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” (Colossians 1:11-14 ESV)

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I Love a Good Story

Book and Quill Pen

I really do enjoy archaeology  as I was recently reminded. At the British Museum this past summer, as I gazed upon the works of the ancient Egyptians, Romans and Greeks I saw the proof of the history I had heard of since childhood. Learning about the things of the past reminds me that I am part of a bigger story. It reminds me that there is something going on here that has been happening since the beginning of time. I am in the middle of it, and God has been here working through all of it. Sometimes I forget this. Forgetting my place in God’s story is the equivalent of picking up a book I have never read, flipping to the middle, and attempting to make sense of all things from one sentence. I would not know where that sentence fits or what is means, because I do not know what has happened before, or what lies ahead. If I forget that I am a part of God’s story and neglect to look to His word to see what He has done already and what He is going to do, then I will be utterly confused.

We are a part of God’s story that He has been writing since before time existed.

And how I do love a good story. I always have. I was the nerdy kid that got punished by being forbidden to read for a few days. It was a terrible fate indeed. I love the smell of books, new and old, for that smell is one of adventure. I know that something beautiful and unknown lies in those pages.  I know that I will learn something by reading about others. Because I love stories so, I love how we are a part of God’s story.

My part is just a sentence, a few words perhaps, but it fits perfectly. It is a comfort that He knows the exact purpose he has for me. However, there is another thought that brings me joy in difficult times.

Think of a great book, a really epic tale, full of adventures. If there is an adventure, there is always something hard. Something to be fought against or for, and something to be conquered. There is often pain and hardship. But when you reach the end of the tale, and all things are reconciled, it is that much sweeter for the struggles that were endured.

Think about those  book characters in the middle of their adversity. If I have read the end of a story before and know what is to happen, I always want to tell them, “Please don’t give up!” The characters in the story can’t see past their next step. They don’t know how it will all play out. But because I know the story I wish to say to them,”Don’t you dare give up. It will be worth it. Trust me, I know the end.”

That is what gives me comfort. God, the author of the ultimate story knows the end. He looks at me in the midst of my trials and says, “Don’t give up. Do what is right. Trust me, I know the finish.” And that is something so beautiful to me that I cannot get past.

And though we might not know the end of our own story exactly, we know God does, and we do know the end of the ultimate story. Evil is going to cease. Christ has already conquered death and God has already won the battle. He will reign victorious. It is sure. However we must continue to fight until then.

God knew that we would have a hard time in this life and He did not take it lightly. Listen to this goodness from Hebrews, as the text speaks about Jesus:

For it was fitting that he, for whom and by whom all things exist, in bringing many sons to glory, should make the founder of their salvation perfect through suffering.

(Hebrews 2:10 ESV)

And this too:

Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery. For surely it is not angels that he helps, but he helps the offspring of Abraham. Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.

(Hebrews 2:14-18 ESV)

How beautiful is that? It is amazing that a God dwelling in perfection would not only  leave it to make a way for us to be right with God and free us from slavery, sin and death, but also allow Himself to suffer so that He might help us.

So, the end may seem unclear. The tale may loom before you ominously, but take heart. If you trust the Author and obey Him, He will bring you to a glorious ending. It will be worth it. It is sure.

PS: And, here is one of my favorite speeches that comes to mind of when I think of such struggles and epic stories, enjoy :) :

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Traveling Light

Luggage (Carnforth Station, England)

A little thought I had a while back that I found in my files and am posting because I have nothing better to say at the moment (though I feel that more elaboration will come on this later). :)

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During the last leg of our trip home from Europe I had a song stuck in my head that we had randomly sung in Europe. If it began to leave my mind it was hurriedly ushered back in by the current circumstances.

The song was “Traveling Light,” a duet by Joel Hanson and Sara Groves.

Let me tell you, lines from the song such as:

“Well I was doubling over, the load on my shoulders
Was a weight I carried with me everyday”

carry an entirely new meaning when that is precisely what is happening to you.

Being a smallish, rather exhausted girl with ill-packed carry on, and later bags to roll behind me, does not make for an easy journey through the endless stretches of airport concourses.

All I could think of as I plodded along was how much faster I could move without all this stuff.

How unhindered I would be.

Next to the song, there was something else that came to mind, and I suddenly felt as if I were a living analogy of what NOT to do in the Christian life.

Hebrews 12:1-2 says:

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” (ESV)

With all that luggage there was no way I could even begin to think about running a race. Or even sprinting. Walking was a struggle. One foot in front of the other. My only goal was to continue trudging along and simply reach my destination. It occurred to me that while I was so burdened I was the one who needed help and I could not be of any help to others. Unless of course, I first disposed of all that was hindering me. When we finally reached our destination and I did finally put all of that luggage down I felt so very free. Simply walking down the hall at the hotel without anything in my hands or slung across me was a delight. It was as if gravity had lessened its hold on me.

It made me think.

All that stuff, was it really worth it?  Was it really that important to my existence that I would put up with struggling with it for my entire journey? Spiritually I often find myself in the same position; clinging tightly to the things of the world, my pet sins, or things that I think I need to make me comfortable. However in reality, Christ commands that I throw off these things that keep me from pursuing Him with utter abandonment.  It does not matter if the entire world tells me certain weights are worth carrying if Christ says they are nothing but a burden to me. He is the one who walks with me on this journey, knows my destination, and knows precisely what needs to be done. It is all about Him, after all, so why do I ignore what He says?

So I must ask myself, what sins and weights are keeping me from running the race, spiritually? What is hindering me that I need to lay aside? What things am I selfishly clinging to that are nothing but dead weight slung about my neck? Are these things really worth clinging to when I know that I can be free, when I know that my God has commanded me to lay them down for both my good and His glory?

My silly little experience in the airport told me emphatically, that no, it is not worth it. Not one bit. Not when I can dance with joy instead of trip, and have free hands available to help others. Not when I can be free to run in the direction God has shown me, instead of barely limping along.

So here’s to traveling light in the future: both literally, and spiritually.

PS Here is that song- I really like it but I couldn’t find a video I liked, so this will have to do!

Enjoy the music. http://youtu.be/8hgnsMg4z2I

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Battles, Bunkers and Age of Empires

American Cemetery Normandie FranceQuite a while back I was at a LAN party (A LAN Party is where a bunch of people get together, hook their computers etc up to a network, and play the same game together, for those of you who were wondering).

(You weren’t expecting that, were you?)

We were playing Age of Empires II, a PC game that I had not played since my youth since it had grown too addicting and had to force myself to stop.

I had always enjoyed it, but had never been very good at it. I really never liked the conquering/defending aspect and preferred rather just to create a little civilization of my own and carry it through the ages.

Knowing I needed practice, one of my friends had created the map we were using where I had an extreme advantage. I had everything I would need to succeed and more. I had walls around my village, and a moat. I had resources in abundance and even loads of valuable relics. There was pretty much no way I could fail.

That’s what it seemed like, anyway.

You see, I became extremely caught up in the daily life of my village, and the hoarding and cultivating of these possessions. I was sending my villagers to work the farms, and cut down lumber. I was building my empire and seeking advancement.

This was a fatal distraction.

At the back of my mind was the thought that someone would probably eventually attempt an attack. But I had a wall! And a moat! Surely, I would be fine.

Surely no one would make it past those.

Guess what? I was wrong.

After a bit, I saw that my wall was being bombarded, but I wasn’t really too worried. I hadn’t taken the time to understand how it all worked, so I didn’t know that troops would soon be pouring through.

I had not built up my defenses, because I falsely believed I was safe; that nothing could touch me.

Soon several different enemies were in my village, burning and looting, destroying everything I had spent the entire game collecting. I was forced to take the few people I could and retreat through a hole in my wall to my allies land. It was over.

I had everything given to me, I should have not failed.

But I wasn’t paying attention.

I learned something from this, in addition to the fact that I really need practice at that game.

What I learned has been culminating for months in my mind, with little bits and pieces being added here and there.

We, as Christians are in a battle.

The final overall victory is already sure, but that does not mean we can give up fighting.

So often I find myself distracted by the things of life, building up my own empire so to speak that I don’t look out for attacks. I falsely believe that I am safe, and continue to focus on my daily tasks. Just like in the game, and I am fairly certain that pleases the enemy.

Defenses don’t come magically. They have to be built and maintained.

Preparation and knowledge aren’t  automatic, they require work and commitment.

And not only should I be prepared to defend, what about actively fighting battles?

I’m not talking Crusades here, in case anyone is wondering.

I’m talking about battles against the enemy who seeks to destroy God’s people and sully His beautiful name.

I’m talking about defending our hearts against lies, about fighting for what is true and good and pure- for the glory of His name. Fighting for the downtrodden and the oppressed, and all the other things God tells us to do in His word.

And it will be work. It will be a fight. It will be hard. No doubt about it, but in the end it will be worth it.

“Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen.”

(1 Peter 5:8-11 ESV)

This thought grew a bit too: Not only do we need to be sober minded and watchful, resisting the evil one, we need to be willing to sacrifice for this war.

When I was in Normandie, France at the American Cemetery overlooking Omaha Beach, I was incredibly sobered. I wandered quietly through the halls of the museum there, looking at all the faces. Faces of children in concentration camps, suffering in ways incomprehensible to me. Faces of soldiers and nurses who had lost their lives in the war, fighting to the end. It was incredibly horrible and tragic and yet I could not help but think where we might be if they had not been willing to fight. Chilling.

I read about how people lived in war time. For the most part people were invested in the war. Even those not in the midst of actual battle did their part. Those at home gave up their comforts so that they could help those who were fighting. They knew what was at stake, and it was important to them. I have read so many accounts of life during WWII. Even children did what they could to help. With their loved ones in harm’s way, I can’t really imagine them deciding to sit on their couch and say, I’m not going to help, I am going to keep living as I am. They knew something else was more important. That something great was at stake. Granted the government regulated such comforts, but hopefully you see the point I am trying to make.

Not only do we as Christians often refuse to fight, we so often bunker up, surrounded by our own comforts and ignore the battle that is waging. Let me tell you, our loved ones are in harm’s way. It may not always be physical harm, but perhaps something more insidious.

John 10:10:

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

The enemy seeks to destroy.

Going back to my Age of Empires civilization, like that, let me point out that we have been given everything we need.

1 Peter 1:2:

“His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence.”

Are we going to ignore it, let our defenses be broken down? Are we going to revel in our own comforts and our own trivial concerns and ignore the bigger picture?

This concerns me.

So easily we forget.

We are not here for us. This life is passing. Just a breath. Something better awaits.

We will have to fight, work, suffer.

But following God will be more than worth it.

Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not saying to live in fear as if the devil lurks around every corner. God is infinitely stronger than the enemy. The final victory is sure. Take heart, He has given us the tools we need for the battle. He has not left us alone. (John 16:33: I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”)

But we cannot forget that this is a battle, or ignore the truth of the following passage, I’m fairly certain he was not joking around.

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.  Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.  For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.  Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.  Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.  In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.  Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.  And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.” -Ephesians 6:10-16

So, I have to ask myself. Will I sit on the sidelines, ignoring God’s call? Will I refuse to sacrifice for the glory of God and the good of others, even those I have never met? Do I care enough to put my desires aside and live as if in war time?

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Toast.

So, I wrote this a bit back, and  it came to mind tonight when I really really needed to be reminded of this ( I must say, it was a little funny to receive conviction through myself). Anyway, here ’tis, in case you are interested :)

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I thought I was a patient person.

I can be, sometimes. I guess it depends to whom you compare me. But I am less patient than I thought I was.

I learned this while making toast.

I placed my bread in the toaster and pushed the button. I stared intently as the metal inside grew a fiery red. To distract myself I procured some dairy free butter from the refrigerator.

Another glance at the little white box confirmed my fears. The toast was still not done.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I pushed the button and up flew my toast, with just the faintest bit of a tan. I prefer my bread well toasted, but I was simply too impatient to wait.

Later that evening I stood at the microwave. The timer went off and I pulled my food out of the microwave to test it. Lukewarm.  Bleh.

I thought about simply eating it at that temperature, but decided rather to microwave it again until it was piping hot.

It occurred to me that I had behaved very differently in the situation with the microwave versus the toaster. Why?

I finally came to a conclusion that it was because of how convinced I was that waiting would make it better.

With my toast I knew it would taste better if I waited, but I was not dissatisfied enough with it to wait for “better.”

With my food in the microwave I knew that I simply wouldn’t enjoy it if it was not hot enough.

My impatience runs deep and exhibited itself in both cases. It was simply the knowledge that the wait would be worth it for something better than what I had that really made the difference.

I So this caused me to think. What things am I accepting because I am unwilling to wait for what is better? How many times has my impatience and lack of desire to wait on God caused me to settle for something that is less than the best? Oh, many times. But there have been times that I have been so convinced that God’s way is better that I have, with His help, been able to quell my impatience and wait for what He has in store. Waiting is difficult. I feel like I have been doing a lot of it lately. I am tempted by the thrill of ceasing to wait (and charging forward with my own ideas). However, by God’s grace I have been able to continue to wait, and wait with expectation. I was very much convicted about this at Teen Street in Germany this summer. I thought that because I was wanting God’s plan in my waiting that was enough . . . even though I was growing rather frustrated and a bit whiny about it.  I was convicted by these verses:

I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry.

He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog,

and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth,

a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD.

(Psalm 40:1-3 ESV)

I wasn’t waiting patiently. And I was not trusting that at the end of the wait, no matter how long it might be, God had something in store that was for my good, and His glory. Waiting can be worship. Waiting patiently says to God, “this is hard for me, but I know that Your way is truly best and it is worth the wait. I know that what I could choose on my own would be so dissatisfying compared to whatever You have prepared. And I will trust You, because I am convinced.”

I do not need to worry. He has everything figured out.

It’s a hard thing to wait. But I know that if I am waiting on God, it is completely worth it.

This is what I think about when I make toast.

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The Search for Puffins: Iceland

Once in a while, we make really silly choices. Sometimes these choices are based upon misheard information.

Example: if you ever hear someone tell you (specifically anyone on the European end of the world: they walk more than we do) that something is only a fifteen minute walk, make certain you clarify.

You might have mis-heard. They might have actually said “fifty minutes.” And that time might actually be that of an Olympian runner who has trained in the desert sands. Okay, so I am making that last bit up, and it will make sense in a few moments.

Here’s the story.

We were determined to see a puffin.

Determined.

After a failed day of puffin searching previously, we were a bit frustrated and had firmly resolved to find at least one. So with the lead that three puffins had been seen down by the sea at the end of a “fifteen minute” trail, we drove to the middle of nowhere, which does not take long in Iceland.

Let me set the scene here. We parked in a tiny lot right off the tiny ribbon of a road through the expanse.  The path to the puffin roosting cliffs was a strip of sand that had been mostly cleared of larger rocks, and was very difficult to walk upon.

Soon after we began walking, I think.

We followed it for a bit, then someone in our group got the idea that it would be faster to not follow the path which seemed to needlessly wind about, and cut straight through to the ocean. Normally I would be the first to agree since I dislike sidewalks and their egotistical attempts to dictate my path of travel. However, on this occasion I thought the path might be a better idea since I was not really certain where we were going other than to the ocean. Alas, we chose the “shortcut.” A route that took us through the wilderness through sand and volcanic rock, neither of which are easy to walk over, might I point out. As we strove to reach the ocean we walked for a great deal of time with the ocean never seeming to get any nearer. We would catch a glimpse, then it would fade behind the horizon, only to appear later not looking a bit closer.  I began to be concerned when literally all I could see, as far as my eye could see, was a barren wilderness in every direction. We had no food, no water, and a cell phone but no one to call other than people in the US (which was a bit reassuring). Mom had fallen and hurt her knee earlier that day, and I was wondering if we were going to make it back. I was comforted by the fact that it would not be getting dark since we were in Iceland, and by prayer.

Finally, we made it to the cliffs and walked above the sea along the craggy coast searching for both the path and the puffins.

It was breathtaking watching the sea lap up into underground caves. Sadly, our search for the puffin was fruitless, which led to some frustration.

Not a puffin, not a single puffin.

Finally defeated, we followed the path back. This is where I learned my first lesson from this day:

The reason there was a path there was because someone with knowledge greater than I had placed it there. They knew where I was supposed to be going, and the best way to get there. The path seemed silly, but in actuality it was the better alternative. The “shortcut” just turned into much more time spent wandering and zigzagging toward some uncertain point on the shoreline.

It was a striking parallel for me of how I sometimes treat my Creator. I look at His way, His path and I think (whether I verbalize it or not), “Wow, I really don’t understand how that works out. I think this other way will be so much better.” So I go my own way. Every time I have done that it has been proven to me that He knows better and I have just created more trouble for myself. He knows where I am to be going, and He knows the best way there, even if I don’t understand it. I just have to obey, and follow His way.

Now, back to my path for the second lesson I learned.

As you can imagine, by this time we were a bit tired of walking. I was carrying a camera and a bulky coat that I no longer needed. I drudged on through the sand. On and on. The path was sand, but had a few stray rocks here and there that had not been cleared. This was not a problem if I watched where I was going. After trekking for half an hour or so it was very difficult and a tad mind numbing to continue to watch my bare/socked/TOMS clad feet plod on step after step over never changing terrain. I began to look up to see how much further it was. At first nothing could be seen, so I went back to watching my feet. But as we progressed I got more antsy. I kept glaring into the horizon, willing myself to see the tiny speck of our red car in the distance. And as I glared I ran my toes definitively into a rock. This is quite painful, as you probably know. I would hop up and down, groan, then walk on. But then the desire to see what was ahead took over, and I looked up again, only to ram my poor toes into another rock. I concluded that I simply must keep watching the path. But as soon as that little red blotch on the horizon appeared I could not wait to get there. I kept looking up, hurting my feet, resolving to not look up, forgetting, and starting the cycle all over again. That last stretch of the path, after my toes were absolutely radiating with pain I finally came to the conclusion that no matter how much I wanted to see how much farther I had to go, I had to just keep walking and watching my feet. If I followed the path I would get there. Once I finally had that talk with myself, it all went faster and with much less pain. What silly creatures we humans are, I thought to myself. It seems so simple a thing: if you hurt yourself if you look up, don’t look up. But that is the problem so often. We want to know what is ahead. We want to see where we are going and how long it is going to take us to get there, when what we really need to do is watch what is right in front of us and just keep walking. Step by step, trusting that as long as we are following God’s path we will arrive at our destination. Since I have been quite obsessed with figuring out what to do next in life, this was a well-timed (though rather painful) lesson for me. I am glad that God uses such silly things as this to teach me.

Almost back to the car … somewhere across that expanse is the ocean to which we walked

Three and a half hours after leaving our car we returned, without seeing a single puffin.

But oh, what a crazy adventure it was!

We are not even sure that puffins actually exist. One day, puffins. One day.

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Just My Excited Morning Thoughts

 

Tree, Capernwray Hall Loop, EnglandI read Hebrews eleven and twelve this morning, and finished those chapters awash with awe for my God.

 

What an amazing, powerful, loving, perfect, holy, beautiful God we serve. There is not a word left in our vocabulary that still retains enough meaning to describe Him. What a joy that He is what we have to worship. How amazing that He is something we can pour our lives into, passionately devote ourselves to, and nothing can come of it but ultimate good. We all worship something, and anything else, no matter how “good” it is leads ultimately to destruction. What a good God to make Himself known to such a faint-hearted people. How humbling it is that He even thinks of us. That He cares for our needs, that He has taken away the reproach of our sin and the dread of death, at the cost of His own life and suffering the wrath of God on our behalf. And all while we still had our hearts set against Him. How wonderful that Jesus, our sacrifice and our high priest who intercedes for us can understand our weaknesses, our frailties, for He once walked in this sinful earth among us.

 

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin.  Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” (Hebrews 4:15-16 NIV)

 

How incomprehensible that is! He is GOD. He could do anything He wanted. There is no reason He even needs to think about human beings, who so often spurn Him and profane His name. And yet, not only does He provide a way that we might be made whole, be no longer separated from God and live eternally with Him, but He allowed His own Son to be tempted so that we know beyond the shadow of a doubt that our God understands our human condition and wants to help us in our time of need! Oh to fully understand the gravity of that, to regain an awe for who God is and what He has done! That it would indeed be a part of our everyday life, but never ever become “normal” or commonplace. How easily we forget. I am a bit excited right now, if you can’t tell, and I feel that I have only been given a minute taste of the amazement I should feel for my God. May I live radically for Him, not out of compulsion or guilt, but out of love and delight in a God who truly is GOOD and who deserves everything I am and everything I have. Hold me accountable, friends.

 

“Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire.”

 

(Hebrews 12:28-29 ESV)

 

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Iceland Overview

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Greetings to all of you from currently relatively sunny Scotland!

I have not been good about writing, up to this point it has all been go go go or sleep or sit in a vegetative state. Now in our first entire day in Scotland I have a  moment to sit down with my hot chocolate and catch you up on our journeys.

Let’s take a few steps back, shall we?

On June 12th we packed up, and flew to Dulles where we were to connect to JFK to fly to Keflavik airport in Iceland.

We found our gate and gratefully sat, happy that with the slim bit of time that we had between flights that we had made it. However our relief was soon turned to confusion when we realized that our plane had been delayed, from arriving in JFK at 6:15 to 8:30, with our plane to Iceland leaving at 8:50.

I immediately wanted to be frustrated and worry, but I had prayed before we left that everything would go smoothly, but if God had a reason for it to not be so, that we would have a good attitude and give Him glory. When I remembered that prayer, thanks to Him I was no longer frustrated and was able to treat it as an adventure.

The shortened version of what happened is we missed our flight to Iceland and had to spend the night near Washington-Dulles Airport and fly out the next evening. My uncle Paul and I spent the day before hand at the branch of the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum that was nearby. I saw a pretty neat spy plane, the SR-71 Blackbird. Even I, who don’t know much about anything mechanical was impressed. Paul spent a great deal of time trying to explain aeronautical things (for he is quite smart) to me.

The next morning at six we were descending into Iceland. Other than the fact that there was blue green water lapping onto the coast it felt as if we were landing on the moon as we flew over pocketed dark volcanic rock.  The sun shone fiercely, creating shadows from the clouds on the foreign landscape, like fluffy dark sheep being herded by the silhouette of our airplane.

We stayed in a very nice old little cottage by the sea,  that oddly enough was lived in previously by a couple who were married in . . . Sapulpa, Oklahoma in the thirties. How odd is that?

I soon decided that Iceland feels like a mix of Greece, Ireland, New England, Colorado and the Moon, for I could see elements of each. Not that I have ever seen the moon up close, but I am not the only one who thinks as such. Astronauts actually trained in Iceland before going to the moon to acclimate themselves to the landscape.

The landscape is otherworldly. So often I felt as if I was on Star Trek, blazing my way through an alien land. It differs as you drive through it. Some areas (the Star Trek ones) are filled with volcanic rock stretching on to the horizon. Others are slightly grassy among the rock,  with the prolific blue-purple lupines bringing pops of color to the otherwise muted scene.  Then there are mountains, reminiscent of the Rockies, spotted with a few conifers, all planted by people.

When there are no clouds every scene you take in appears to be in high definition. The colors are vivid, the details are crisp. I am really unsure as how to explain it. But it is a constant strange beauty.

In Iceland most of the people do speak English as well, but pretty much everything is written in Icelandic. This made shopping  for milk-less products interesting. Not to mention ordering from a menu. Who knew that a word that was close to “apple” actually meant “orange?”

On Sunday we went to church with some missionaries there. I very much enjoyed my very first church service in English and Icelandic. We met some lovely people there, and afterwards the missionary family graciously spent some time with us and showed us around Reykjavik.

The couple who oversaw our cottage were also just splendid, and let us in to explore an old church by the sea.

Our time in Iceland was great, and we had a few adventures: more on that later. However, when it came time to fly to Scotland yesterday, I was ready. Partially because I love the UK.  But more than that I was excited to have it actaully get dark, and to gain a normal sleep pattern! It was exceedingly difficult to get over jet lag in Iceland. This time of year there it never actually gets completely dark. Around eleven or twelve it grew darker, with sun beginning to slide across the horizon, and pink lines appearing above the sea. The first night there I awoke at two am to see this beauty.

It was so difficult to sleep there when you can sightsee as late as you want. We would get back at ten from seeing sights, and try to get ready for bed. I would get on my computer at midnight and in my confused sleep state, think it was seven pm like my computer said. So very strange to have so much daylight! It was as if time really did not exist. We never really knew what time it was. 

That being said, I thoroughly enjoyed my first night of darkness here in Scotland.

We went shopping for groceries last night and it was terribly exciting for me. Scotland isn’t England, but it is lovely, and it still feels like home.

I will probably put a few images up on my photo blog with descriptions of the places we actually visited, and a few general stories. This is an rather uninspired, vague entry, meant to simply update those who are interested. Hope it was somewhat enjoyable!

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Psalm 7:17

 

I have a habit of writing, wanting perfection, and never posting. So here is a post I wrote a while back.

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Today I ran across this verse: “I will give to the LORD the thanks due to His righteousness, and I will sing praise to the name of the LORD, the Most High.” -Psalm 7:17 I kept reading, then was compelled to back up and read it again. Give thanks to the Lord because of His righteousness? How often do I hear that one? It seemed out of place to me to see that, and that worries me. How often as a Christian culture do we talk or sing, thanking God for His righteousness? In my experience, it is not often when compared to how often we thank Him for His love, His Grace, His Mercy, power (to save, heal, etc), forgiveness and so on. These are by no means bad things for which to thank Him, and we should thank Him for these often. But it hit me that these are all more blatantly centered around what we receive, while righteousness might seem more of a “God only” thing.

It’s not initially so easy to be thankful for God’s righteousness. Why? Is it because we have taken the term “self righteousness” and all the ugliness that possesses and applied it to the term” righteous” as it relates to a Holy God? Is it because the thought of righteousness scares us a little because we are often so unrighteous, and often we don’t want to give up those one or two “little” things we do that spit in the face of God’s holiness? Is it because we don’t see how the fact that God is a righteous God is something that is to our benefit (we are rather selfish creatures sometimes)? Maybe a little of all of that and more. I’m not trying to make accusations here, just pondering and examining my own heart as well. And as I thought on this I attempted to work out in my mind just why the fact that God is a righteous God is a benefit to us ( I am not at all saying that we should only thank Him for His attributes that are beneficial to us. He is God and that should be enough).

Anybody remember reading The Iliad or The Odyssey in High School or College? Or at least the Cliff Notes? Anybody remember how the gods in those stories were? I shudder to think of a world ruled by a god or gods like that. They were vain backstabbers, using human beings as mere pawns to get what they wanted. Certainly they had their favorite humans now and then that they cared about, but usually they operated as one massive soap opera. The human beings just had to deal with it. There was no good and evil to be upheld, for all was based on their whims at the moment. They were not righteous in any sense of the word. Can you imagine the fear that life would entail if we were ruled by that?

Instead we have a righteous, perfect, holy, “other” God. He is not going to go off the deep end. He is not going to give in to some vain desire and break. He is good. All the time. He is a just judge, which can be frightening if you are not covered by the blood of His son that makes us righteous in His eyes. He does punish those who do evil, which can sound a little unlike the loving God we have heard so much about. But would you want a god that was okay with evil? That is a frightening thought. The good news is that to those who are evil he offers a way to escape punishment, since he paid the debt that they owed with Jesus’ perfect life. And if Jesus was not righteous, He would not have been able to pay for our sins on our behalf, or take our punishment for us, for He would have had to pay His own. The fact that God is righteous has so many beautiful benefits for us as His children, and even if it did not He would still deserve our thanks and praise for He is who He is. However after all this pondering I am more than thankful to the Lord because of His righteousness, and that has become so much more beautiful of a word than before this (slightly jumbled but helpful) thought process.

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Chicago Urban Immersion

It’s amazing how  the desire to do  a spectacular job in creating something can actually keep it from never happening. That is what became of my Chicago update. I thought that I must write out all the details, and do it well. Yeah, that never happened. However the week I spent at Here’s Life Inner City with CRU in Chicago was too full of good/God things to just let this post never come into existence. So here you are, let’s consider this the “Reader’s Digest Version” (here I refer to those books they put out, which seem to be the only ones anybody ever feels OK with ripping up for craft projects. I digress).

So, I wanted to join this CRU project called Urban Immersion which was happening during Spring Break, and I did not know anyone going, so I just hopped a plane by myself. After navigating the “L” alone for two hours with my suitcase then waiting to be picked up  at the Egyptian themed McDonalds (who knew?), I made it to the Agape Center.  We were in “the hood” (think broken car windows, shootings, and rocks being thrown at people in our group).

Chicago O’Hare Airport

In the L

In the L

Egyptian McDonald's Centerpiece

Egyptian McDonald’s Centerpiece

Agape Center

Agape Center

Soon I was making friends with wonderful people from Morehead, Marshall and OU, and was adopted for the week.

I will spare you the specifics, but the week was full of wonderful things:

  • A prayer walk around the city.

The “Bean” (Cloud Gate) in Chicago

  • Going door to door with nine volt batteries (for smoke detectors) and Christian hip hop CD’s (featuring Lecrae, Trip Lee, and the gospel) . This led to us getting to pray with people and share the gospel as we did so.
  • Serving lunch at a homeless shelter, and getting to hear people’s stories there.

So I made designs in the tuna salad while waiting to serve it.

  • After school program with the inner city kids: games, Bible lessons and tutoring.
  • Wandering around Columbia and hearing what the students thought about God as we shared Soularium.

Doing Soularium

  • In between all of this we had times of prayer, worship (with the amazing Clemson band), teaching and discussion. Not to mention some free time to explore Chicago, hang out with our friends, play Bible Taboo and in my case,  even learn to throw a Frisbee (yes, me!)

But the last day was my favorite. We went to Pacific Garden Mission, a shelter for the homeless that has been around since 1877. I used to listen to their radio program “Unshackled” with my Dad when I was little (well, littler), so I knew about it and I was already excited. From the beginning, walking into that building was such a contrast from the rest of the city. I had been having an amazing time, and yet the dirtiness and hopelessness of parts of the city had begin to wear down on me a bit. Yet the first thing I noticed about the mission was that it was clean. Everything was well kept and well designed, and the participants in their one year Bible program were dressed in a dress shirt and slacks. The area where the day visitors stayed was much more like what you would imagine at a homeless shelter. But overall I felt as if the place offered dignity. They took us to the greenhouse where they make compost to use and sell, and grow plants to use in the kitchen where they serve an insane number of meals a day ( I forgot exactly how many). We worked back there for a while cleaning, which I thoroughly enjoyed even though it was impossible to get the greenhouse floor quite as clean as I liked. After that they served us a meal (which was delicious) and I  went to work in the kitchen to help prepare the evening meal and later to clean tables and set them again.  As I did these things, I listened to the people who worked there. I am not sure when was the last time I heard so many people in their normal conversation praising Jesus. Declaring that it hadn’t been a great day, but there was no way they were going to make the devil happy: they were going to thank Jesus and have their joy! These are the people who are there day after day, doing work that it took quite a while for many college students to finish- but without the college students. Many of them had completed the program there and had originally been homeless. The spirit of the place was so different than outside. I could see that life with Jesus was just their way of life. It was such an encouragement to me. As we were leaving, walking down the street to our cars, a man walked up and hugged one of the guys in our group. It was such a genuine gesture that I asked one of the other guys in the group if the guy from our group knew this stranger. He didn’t. We soon found out that this man was one of the pastors with the mission. He was a street preacher. He knew we had come to help out at the mission and that is why he so happily greeted us. He told us a little about what he does, including how he was almost shot once while sharing about Jesus with a young man. He said it as if he was telling us that he had gone to wash his car, or some other normal daily activity. There was fire in this man. You could tell Jesus was his life. I stood there in a bit of awe. Then the strangest thing happened. He thanked us profusely for coming to help them. He said we were being like Jesus to them through the help we provided.  I was a bit aghast. WE were being like Jesus to them? It felt more like they were showing Him to me. Sure, we had been there for a while helping, but I honestly left feeling like I had not done anything, except be blessed by them. Yes, I guess we were technically being a blessing to them, but in it all I felt like I had gained more than I had given.

Strange how that works, isn’t it?

There  you go. Not perfect, not all I wanted this post to be, but there it is. I thank God for the week I got to spend in Chicago.

PS- Here are some links if you are interested!

http://www.pgm.org/

http://www.hlic.org/

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