How on earth?

     I don't understand. . . . What I think seems best is not what I see right now, and I'm holding out faith that even though what is best is not always what actually happens, it's been hitting over and over, like waves crashing over a drowning woman. I think you'll come through this time, because you're a God who is IMMENSE, and you love to come through. 

     Then again, how can I presume to know what's best for someone, when you're God?! I have no idea what's in your will in a specific scenario unless you've revealed it to me. What I do know is that you will be faithful regardless of the outcome, and that your love will heal, if it's allowed to. 

     Do we really need to keep repeating these same lessons? Is it possible that something was missed before that must be learned now? 

Who told us we’d be rescued 
What has changed and 
Why should we be saved from nightmares 
Were asking why this happens to us 
Who have died to live, it’s unfair 
This is what it means to be held . . . 

This is what it is to be loved and to know 

That the promise was that when everything fell 
We’d be held 
If hope is born of suffering 
If this is only the beginning 
Can we not wait, for one hour 
Watching for our savior 

     I'm watching. We're all watching for you, Abba.

The Bridge -- oddly enough, a reflection I had AT the Bridge

     Sitting in church today, I had this thought: Are we really, genuinely willing to die for Christ in America, in our big, suburban churches, with our huge, spectacular worship teams, our comfortable chairs and air conditioning? 

     Do we need to become the persecuted church in order to live out our faith with the same passion and intensity that is found in the persecuted church? Less is asked of us here; maybe that's why it's so hard for me to look at church sometimes. I've been taught that you generally get what you pay for (unless you're just paying for a name). Is a faith that costs me less really the faith that I'm supposed to take hold of? 

     This is my conclusion: I don't know if I would actually die for Christ. I'm ready and willing and committed to laying down my former life; I'm in process of that. As for whether or not I would physically suffer and die for Christ in service and devotion to my Abba, I just really don't know. I hope I would; I think that staying on this path I'm on is enough right now. I guess we'll cross that bridge if and when we get there. In the meantime, walking the path is necessary, because you have to take the path to get to the bridge, right? So for now, I'm living in the moment, committed to walking on. 

     I was thinking today that I am the woman who rained her tears on Jesus' feet, wiping them away with her own hair. I am that desperate, scared, ashamed woman. 

     Sometimes I am that woman who spoke to the messias himself at the well, understanding in spite of my naïveté and ignorance; I am the rejected one that he chose. 

     Sometimes I am the prophetess who kneels, waiting, in the temple for my savior, knowing in my heart that he will show up and do big things.

     Sometimes I am the woman in the crowd, only crying out for help on the inside, too ashamed to reveal myself to anyone, even my Lord. 

     Sometimes I am the woman who opens her heart and her home warmly to love those who are struggling. Sometimes I am uncomplaining, like Mark's mother; other times, I feel unappreciated or overburdened, like Martha. 

     Sometimes I sit at the feet of my savior and lean on his every word. 

     Sometimes I try to whisk my Lord away to the places I think he should be, not understanding his close love for those I do not consider my family or friends.

     I am all the women in the Bible; their stories graft an allegory of my life. I'll bet I'm the men, too. :T (haha)

I miss her every fall. Tonight, when we were discussing something-or-other, someone mentioned her floor. My floor, but a year later, when it no longer belonged to either of us. 

I always get this weird, unexplainable feeling when I think about that floor and the new people in there only months later. It's a tiny, nagging, hollow feeling, and my head tells my heart that that floor was not mine to mourn; that she was theirs to mourn and not mine; like I had given up so much by moving out and on. 

Regardless. I miss her. There's no such thing as a fall in Anderson without Keren -- maybe that's why I miss her, because it's times like these that I still feel her here. 

I serve a God of delights :)

The God in my friends (namely the two who co-wrote this song) amazes me -- the same God I worship and serve. Sometimes I think that God and I have a pretty good, pretty deep thing going on, and then he lets a scale fall from my eye and astounds me with delight in his Spirit and the huge possibilities that come with this faith and grace I've been given. If that sounds a bit too cliché, well, then, please, by all means, stop reading. I'm done anyway. :)

I serve a God that's much more delectable than chocolate and coffee. And to a woman, that's BIG. :D

Definition

     I guess joy is remembering the satisfaction of the good events of the day. I made friends with a bunny last night. I got my last class added today. I met repeatedly with unexpected kindness and graciousness. I had Rally's fries, and I had ice cream and some good conversation with a friend. I put together a new lamp and a new bookcase, so my room can be cleaned once again (tomorrow). Life is good. God is good. 

Uncomfortable difficulty

     Right now, I feel like I'm wearing clothes that are way too tight, and I just want to wiggle right out of them.  It's so hard for me to sit back, to give space to those who need it, and not feel cast aside. Two weeks of this, and I'm just plain antsy to reconnect. I am an extrovert; with few friends yet in Anderson, I struggle with this. I feel torn between needing people around and not wanting to take up too much of anyone's free time. I feel both guilty and hurt. I don't want to be that lecherous person who is always hanging around, draining everyone with her dependence, but man is it hard for me to be able to bear under-stimulation and a lack of community. 

     I wish I were more outgoing, but the truth of the matter is, the moment I meet someone new, the former is how I feel all the time. I feel like an intruder, or extremely socially awkward, or incredibly old. I feel, in college, now, like the college kid who never left the high school parties and group of friends -- the person that just needs to move on with her life. It's just that, I'm HERE, in limbo, waiting to move on, but still here in Anderson for another whole year. Eh, who knows?

     I've just started reading Winesburg, Ohio (© 1996 W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.), written by Sherwood Anderson for 20th Century American Lit. (It has the earliest publishing date of all the books, so I'm just hoping that I picked the right one to start with.) In the introduction, "The Book of the Grotesque," the author writes: 

          That in the beginning when the world was young there were a 

          great many thoughts but no such thing as truth. Man made the 

          truths himself and each truth was a composite of a great many 

          vague thoughts. All about in the world were the truths and they 

          were all beautiful . . . 

          It was the truths that made the people grotesques. The old man 

          had quite an elaborate theory concerning the matter. It was his 

          notion that the moment one of the people took one of the truths to 

          himself, called it his truth, and tried to live his life by it, he became 

          a grotesque and the truth he embraced became a falsehood. 

          (Anderson 6-7)

     Do the ideals and ideas we use to frame our lives around reality actually cloud, instead of clarifying the truth we seek? Can we take something too far, trust in something so much that we warp it to our own reality? Is it possible to believe something we've read or been told or come up with ourselves and add more credibility to it (in our minds) than there was in the first place? 

     I don't know if my perceptions are accurate or not. I may be entirely off base, right on target, or only partially right. I do know that I've placed great stock in these perceptions; most might argue that that's an understatement. It's why I'm so shy around new people, why I have a hard time allowing acquaintances to become friends, and such success with the reverse (if you can call that success). I'm constantly plagued by these feelings of awkwardness and intrusion. And yet, I'm equally cursed (and blessed!) with a need to be in community. But just maybe, I can and should let some of the reliability I've forced into these "truths" diffuse out of that tight, little box. 

     Back to that Sherwood idea, I think we do allow ourselves to destroy small "truths," what I would actually call brief bursts of insight, by dragging them out, destroying their very shape and texture as we display them proudly (or in the very least, under mantric compulsion) on our shelves and write them into our internal constitutions. At least, I know I do. 

Thought for the MBT

Maybe this Myers-Briggs thing really has something. Every time I come away from people and end up spending most of my time to myself again, I go through this sort of emotional (and sometimes even spiritual) low. I need time with people in my day. Every day. 

How do I take hold of a "personal" faith? Should I? How should this look?

     I was really amazed by this song when it hopped across my iPod today and jumped right out at me. I think this is my new favorite song. I was just thinking today that, the deeper I get in my faith, and the farther I push along, the more confused I seem to become. Where did all the answers go? It seems that the only answer I have found lately is, "Patience. Peace; be still, and know that I am God," as more questions boisterously hustle out of an elevator in my thoughts. (They throw elbows.) 

     Anyway, the song is called "Your Love Is Better Than Life," and it's sung by the Newsboys, but I'd like to say written under the influence of the Spirit. Here goes:

"(Your love is better than life)

"I dunno nothin' that I haven't been taught

I dunno why I was born into the family I've got

I dunno if I ever had an original thought

Maybe not, maybe so, maybe later, I dunno

"I dunno how I can end a prayer and turn on a friend

I dunno what I was thinkin' when I just pressed send

I dunno why I still criticize the things I dunno

I dunno, I dunno, I dunno, but this one thing I know

"YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

Without your love I'm just a broken machine

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

Without your love it's just a mindless routine

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

Without your love I'm in another free fall

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

Without your love I've got nothing at all

"I dunno what goes down the moment we die

Do we get halos and harps? Do we sleep? Do we fly?

I dunno how, when, and why this world will finally end

Speculation's gonna grow, who knows best? I dunno

"I dunno if I should push ahead or stop and grieve

I lie awake and wonder how to make a city believe

I dunno when it's a ministry and when it's a show

Maybe neither, maybe both, I dunno, but this one thing I know

"YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

Without your love I'm just a broken machine

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

Without your touch I'm not a full human being

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

If I should ever leave, where would I go?

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

I look to you 'cause you're the lover of my soul

"Here's to the lover of my soul

Here's to the lover of my soul

"I dunno when to walk away or stand to fight

Just when I got it wrong, I'm sure I heard you right

And when my arguments are watertight

You expose every hole with a flash and a flood

"And I know I hear you call in the eye of the storm

And I know you had my back since the day I was born

Still stuck in my heart, still stirrin' my head

You're my pillar of fire, you're the wine, you're the bread

"YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

Without your love I'm just a broken machine

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

Without your love it's all a mindless routine

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

Without your love I'm in another free fall

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

Without your love I've got nothing at all

"YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

I dunno nothin' that I haven't been taught

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

I dunno how I was born into the family I've got

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

I dunno if I ever had an original thought

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

Maybe not, maybe so, maybe later, I dunno

"YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

I dunno when I've got it right or wrong

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

I dunno how I can wrap it in a four-minute song

YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE

But I know my grip is better when I'm not hanging on

Your love is making us strong all along

Your love is better than life"

     I've been thinking a lot about transparency, about mercy, about leadership and Agathos, and about accountability lately. I've been thinking about where I fall short (don't get me started), where I need to be, how I can get there, and how to take hold of grace unselfishly. 

     The striking thing about Agathos is our four pillars: passion, humility, service, and depth. These are not directly and separately translated into specific, individual events for Agathos, because it's difficult to have those broad goals front and center in an explicit capacity. I know that we cherish diversity; desire to grow in hospitality; seek to honor each other through encouragement and mutual respect; and hold a commitment to serve each other, our campus, and our local and global world through our time and finances. I know that we fall short in these things. But I was focused on the four pillars today as I evaluated my own leadership in Agathos. 

     I guess I honestly don't have much true passion for my faith, in all honesty. I care about my faith, about serving and obeying God, but when push comes to shove, all that caring doesn't amount to passion. I want to take hold of this passion, but my faith and passion both waver so feebly at times. 

     I have a depth of intent, but I don't follow through. I have a shallow, farcical actuality. But if I have those ideas for how to grow closer, is that enough of a start to move from? I am trying. I need spiritual accountability and encouragement. God has always been, is, and will always continue to be faithful, at least this much I do know. 

     I have plenty of guilt, but I have little humility, just shame. I don't think this shame and guilt over what I've done and haven't done, who I've been and haven't been, is healthy. Also, it's so hard to focus on God around other people. I'm such a ridiculous people pleaser that I focus on everything and everyone else but God. I rarely feel like I'm actually connecting into God as well as I should lately, and I often doubt if I'm in tune enough to really know his voice. Sometimes I feel like I'm stepping off a cliff edge in the dark where there may or may not be a rope bridge. 

     Sometimes I worry that I might seem more together than I am, losing all vulnerability and authenticity when I know the right answers (sometimes), but just can't seem to put them together for myself. Other times, I'm afraid to be vulnerable (I've got some ugly stuff) for fear that it's too much for others to handle. It has been in the past. I'm afraid that opening up will have the effect of just dumping my baggage on another person, instead of just opening it up to let some light in on it. I struggle to find balance in authenticity and vulnerability with men, since I fear building unhealthy emotional intimacy. This is an area of my life that I'm really praying about lately.

     I talk about service, and I desire to serve, but my attitude is so negative and selfish when I actually do serve (whether or not I even realize I'm serving at the time). I've let others become a hassle to me when the Savior I follow based his entire ministry on others. I don't follow his example; I'm selfish and mismanaging of my time; my faith is a personal one, full of "personal" evaluation, etc. I don't love myself; I try, but is this really supposed to be my aim? Sometimes I really doubt it. Is my life supposed to be aimed inward, or should I allow that to progress in God's hands as I focus my life outward? Do we heal to serve, or serve to heal? How active in this healing process are we, and how much of our attention should be focused on our own healing? I know that I will always be healing from something, always in process, so my hope is that I don't get lost trying to focus on that and lose sight of the mission to others.

     I have no real answers to these bigger questions. I don't know if hearing the answer is really what I need, because these are the kinds of questions that are answered through the experience of a close walk with Christ and attentiveness to God's faithfulness. I have decided, though, that my goal for this year, first and foremost, is to take hold of and maintain zesty saltiness. Because my light shines before others by my deeds and words, but I want salt first -- that depth of faith and level of passion and commitment that can't be seen. Good salt and bad salt look the same; sometimes true faith and humility can be matched in appearance by a manufactured faith. I want saltiness that bears fruit and light. And that kind of faith can't help but be expressed in word and deed. (Matthew 5:13-16; Ephesians 2:8-9; James 2:22, 26)

     Coming soon . . . 2 Kings 6:1-7:20, but I need to make my bed and get some sleep, pronto. 

Things I Like . . .

I really like Quinn Gray's long pass to Devin Aromashodu. I like Victor Worsley's hustle for his big size, and I like to watch him tackle across a stiff-arm. I like the comical duo of Emmitt Smith and Marshall Faulk. I like it a LOT when Jeff Saturday isn't hurt. I like that Bob Sanders, Dwight Freeney, and Marvin Harrison had game time today after major injuries. I like Jamie Silva, but I really, really want to cut his hair, because it looks like he's working on dreads but hasn't made it there yet. I really like Courtney Roby. I like how Mike Hart keeps pushing after a bad 40 time leading up to Draft Day and even today, a fall while carrying the ball. I like how Quinn Gray gave God the credit after he threw the first touchdown pass for the Colts tonight. I like the Michael Strahan commercial about Eli Manning, and I imagine that he and Eli Manning had a chuckle at it. I also like the fact that Dominic Rhodes is back (heck yeah!). I like that Marlin Jackson went to Michigan and still does a fantastic job (haha). I like knowing that many of our players have a faith to support them through injuries and great plays, and a network of friends, co-workers, and partners in faith to lift them up in prayer and encouragement when they need it. I like the fact that we're the underdogs again, because it gives Colts fans a chance to show some real support through good times and hard times, and because our guys can focus on playing the next game without too premature Super Bowl hoopla to distract them. This can be a really great year for the Colts, regardless of "an iffy Colts performance." 

To jump, or not to jump?

     There's something that God may be calling me to do, and now I'm having second thoughts. It's something I've been praying for for awhile, but it requires a level of vulnerability to which I'm not accustomed. I don't know if I actually want to do this now; my flesh is eyeing the door as my spirit holds out for more confirmation. It's ironic, really, that only yesterday I decided I would split my week up into groups of prayers for each day, because otherwise my prayers cast so wide a net that they take forever (usually on into sleep time). I'm lightly begrudging the fact that now my calendar glares the words "Encouragement/Unity, Roommates, Middle Agers, Community, Family, Accountability" at me from across the room. Grr. Sometimes I am not the most willing worker in the Fields. But I guess this is where Christianity starts to smart a little bit, costing me something that wants to stay in my hand, something I sometimes want to keep in my hand. 

     I think I've been looking for something easier. There's a chance that serious trouble might come of this, but then again, Goliath could have pulverized David if David's errand had not come from God himself. Who knows? But I'm still longing for confirmation so I don't jump prematurely or without God's urging.

Digging deeper

     So lately my blog entries have been pretty boring, just lists of the day's happenings. I transferred my blog from livejournal onto here today, and the difference in material between this past summer and maybe a year before immediately struck me. Anyway, hopefully I can put a little more time and a lot more thought into this . . . but first of all:

     Debbie, 

Fight the Fire, Don't Fear It

Throw on the tie that strangles my neck
Chasin' these dreams, sayin' I'm blessed
But the stone is crackin'
The rails are laughin' at me

'Cause I'm dancing with the gods
Runnin' from the fire
I've been chasing the light
But I lost my desire 
Somewhere along the way, somewhere along the way

High class and false civility
Parchment facade of joyous nobility
I walked the talk,
Broke my back for you

'Cause I'm dancing with the gods
Running from the fire
I've been chasing the light
But I lost my desire 
Somewhere along the way, somewhere along the way

I can't get rid of this sickening flavor
From this rotten apple that looked so delicious
You ruined my life, but now I'll return the favor to you

'Cause I'm dancing with the gods
Running from the fire
I've been chasing the light
But I lost my desire 
Somewhere along the way, somewhere along the way
Somewhere along the way
Yeah, I lost it along the way

MUSIC: "Cute Without the 'E'

MOOD: 

LOCATION: the 101

Playing Ketchup

I'm back at AU!!!! 

Jael, Jonah, and I went out to Hacienda for supper last night, where Jonah mispronounced "pollo loco," I couldn't roll my R's to say "arroz" quite right, I left my keys on the table, and I miscalculated the tip and had to hand the waiter a little bit of money on the way out. Oh, yeah, and I lost my debit card AND my wallet (I'm just about to go to Hacienda, because I think it's there) because I cannot escape my ditziness. Seriously. You have no idea how irritating it is to be such a dolt sometimes. 

My roommates are really nice -- Beth Ann and Debbie. It's nice living down here now, because I can refer to Beth Ann by first/middle name only, instead of using her last name and adding "my landlord/roommate" to the end. I think I'm going to paint my room green instead of yellow as long as Beth Ann's okay with it. I'm actually really excited, because I love painting. 

And now I'm off to eat leftovers, the late lunch of champions. (Hopefully not the late lunch of late champions?)

I'm still praying for an accountability partner, a really good small group, and a mentor. Tall order, huh? God can handle it. And I really need the community and accountability.

End of Summer Update

Well, I have four more days of work and six days total until I move back to Anderson. The old folks tell me they're going to miss me, and you know what? I think I'm going to miss them, too. :) I have to pack, clean up my house and my mom's house, move furniture, help E-man move out, basically plenty of stuff. I have to go now, though -- time to leave for work!