November 9, 2012
September 1, 2012
we, our, us
I have been married for ten days now. Married.
It has been the best, most beautiful, beginning of my life so far. Most days I wake up and think, is this real life? Somewhere between drinking coffee with, and packing a lunch for, my best friend I have to pinch myself. Forever looks bright as peace settles in. The waves have already begun to come, but it's we who ride them now and that changes everything.
I see differently already. I hear differently. The past few days God has been building a message in me, for my husband -- for our lives. It feels bigger now that someone else is involved. Suddenly the words I'm given, the dreams I have, the things I pray, the promises I'm given and the Truth I see affect us. As my current reality sets in I shake my head and smile; it's both the most exhilarating and the scariest adventure I've ever agreed to. It's our trajectory that I have a picture of now. It's our future that I plan for, dream about and discuss.
Today I'm going to start a conversation that has my stomach bursting with butterflies. It's one I've wanted to have for days, but a gentle voice echoed "wait" in my heart. Eager, my prayers each hour have been ones of "when? now? how?". Assured, the steady response "you'll know" kept coming to my mind. This morning, by 6am, all the pieces fell into place before I had even opened my eyes. Prayers have been answered in a way I couldn't have predicted or anticipated. I'm not sure what is to come. I can't predict how ideas will be received or where things go from here. I just know this is obedience. God is up to something; and His something(s) are always Good. What a sweet, sweet journey we're on.
My husband is on his way home. Here's to courage enough for today.
I see differently already. I hear differently. The past few days God has been building a message in me, for my husband -- for our lives. It feels bigger now that someone else is involved. Suddenly the words I'm given, the dreams I have, the things I pray, the promises I'm given and the Truth I see affect us. As my current reality sets in I shake my head and smile; it's both the most exhilarating and the scariest adventure I've ever agreed to. It's our trajectory that I have a picture of now. It's our future that I plan for, dream about and discuss.
Today I'm going to start a conversation that has my stomach bursting with butterflies. It's one I've wanted to have for days, but a gentle voice echoed "wait" in my heart. Eager, my prayers each hour have been ones of "when? now? how?". Assured, the steady response "you'll know" kept coming to my mind. This morning, by 6am, all the pieces fell into place before I had even opened my eyes. Prayers have been answered in a way I couldn't have predicted or anticipated. I'm not sure what is to come. I can't predict how ideas will be received or where things go from here. I just know this is obedience. God is up to something; and His something(s) are always Good. What a sweet, sweet journey we're on.
My husband is on his way home. Here's to courage enough for today.
June 12, 2012
displaced but not defeated
It only takes a drop of doubt to create a storm of fear and but a moment of submission to deceit to be overwhelmed. It only takes a single false judgment to feel consumed by shame and a subtle poke at a wound to stir up a world of pain.
Somewhere between graduating college and stumbling into this transitory season I stopped fighting. But about a week ago, in the middle of the night, somewhere between heavy tears and throwing punches to heaven I decided something had to change.
It only takes a mustard-seed of faith to move a mountain and a whispered "yes" for our Creator to come to our rescue. It only takes a ray of light to scatter the darkness and a single breath of Truth to bring us back to Life.
Sometimes when I feel stuck in my current reality I flip through past journals, reminding myself of the unending faithfulness of God. Like the disciples, I quickly forget to rest in God's promises and trust in His provision. I do exactly the thing I most hope to avoid - I forget, I backslide, I revert. But that's not the end of the story; I am a work in progress and it's high-time I let Humility bring me back to Grace, once more. It's time some things die in me to make room for new life, again.
A year ago I sat in the Ethiopian sunshine meditating on Psalm 121:8 - "The LORD will guard your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forever".
I wrote:
"Overall the displacement I feel is not unexpected, but the peacefulness of reliance and dependence on God through it has been very rewarding. I don't want to miss a moment that has been ordained for me here. I want to walk through every open door in confidence that the God of this universe is constantly within and without of me. I rest in a peace here that I don't yet understand, and honestly don't even need to. Life looks different as I slow down and process each moment as it comes.
With fresh perspective, I anticipate radical refinement of my life. Holding tight to promises and truth, I walk in expectation of more and better life - both for the people around me and for my own soul. The journey of letting God show me who I am has hardly been this defined. The expectations here are off. No one is throwing guilt or shame on me. I get lost in the freedom of relationships and overjoyed by removing limits and requirements.
Whatever this is that has begun to take root, I want it to stay and grow and live in me. I hope it flows from my thoughts, actions and words; that through me a Kingdom-crave would be magnetic and contagious."
With no new words, I'll walk through and from conviction patiently. I'll choose to put my faith, not in the God I think I want, but in the God who Is.
Don't stop fighting.
Somewhere between graduating college and stumbling into this transitory season I stopped fighting. But about a week ago, in the middle of the night, somewhere between heavy tears and throwing punches to heaven I decided something had to change.
It only takes a mustard-seed of faith to move a mountain and a whispered "yes" for our Creator to come to our rescue. It only takes a ray of light to scatter the darkness and a single breath of Truth to bring us back to Life.
Sometimes when I feel stuck in my current reality I flip through past journals, reminding myself of the unending faithfulness of God. Like the disciples, I quickly forget to rest in God's promises and trust in His provision. I do exactly the thing I most hope to avoid - I forget, I backslide, I revert. But that's not the end of the story; I am a work in progress and it's high-time I let Humility bring me back to Grace, once more. It's time some things die in me to make room for new life, again.
A year ago I sat in the Ethiopian sunshine meditating on Psalm 121:8 - "The LORD will guard your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forever".
I wrote:
"Overall the displacement I feel is not unexpected, but the peacefulness of reliance and dependence on God through it has been very rewarding. I don't want to miss a moment that has been ordained for me here. I want to walk through every open door in confidence that the God of this universe is constantly within and without of me. I rest in a peace here that I don't yet understand, and honestly don't even need to. Life looks different as I slow down and process each moment as it comes.
With fresh perspective, I anticipate radical refinement of my life. Holding tight to promises and truth, I walk in expectation of more and better life - both for the people around me and for my own soul. The journey of letting God show me who I am has hardly been this defined. The expectations here are off. No one is throwing guilt or shame on me. I get lost in the freedom of relationships and overjoyed by removing limits and requirements.
Whatever this is that has begun to take root, I want it to stay and grow and live in me. I hope it flows from my thoughts, actions and words; that through me a Kingdom-crave would be magnetic and contagious."
With no new words, I'll walk through and from conviction patiently. I'll choose to put my faith, not in the God I think I want, but in the God who Is.
Don't stop fighting.
May 5, 2012
"home"
There are days that my head is buzzing and I'm left deciding what, if anything, is important enough to say. Today is one of those days. I am hesitantly entering this new season of transition as my tangled mind attempts to make sense of my somersaulting heart.
This morning about 20 friends and I walked to the beach to watch the sunrise. We walked under a bridge that a man named Greg calls "home". Silently we filed past the heap of fabric where he slept so as not to disturb his rest. It made me realize that the past three years have transformed my concept of "home".
I pray that we always learn to tap into contentment and joy no matter where we find ourselves; that we keep our treasures in heaven and make "home" in The solid Rock instead of shifting sands. Lets seek the wisdom to know where to put down our roots, and the courage to open our hearts and doors to those around us.
This morning about 20 friends and I walked to the beach to watch the sunrise. We walked under a bridge that a man named Greg calls "home". Silently we filed past the heap of fabric where he slept so as not to disturb his rest. It made me realize that the past three years have transformed my concept of "home".
In the Spring of 2010, I moved to Chicago and into a dorm room on the 4th floor of Houghton at Moody Bible Institute, and let it slowly become "home".
During the Summer of 2011, I lived in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Initially I couldn't have felt more alienated, but it became "home" and it was one of the hardest places I've ever had to leave.
In the Fall of 2011, I became an RA and joined the 10th floor of Houghton. I experienced the fastest transition to "family" I ever have.
These years have been seemingly lived out of a suitcase; all my memories are kept between the book-ends of transitions. I'm learning that, this side of Heaven, all ground is temporary. "Home" isn't about the walls we build, it's about the ones we tear down. It isn't necessarily about the physical place in which we exist, but the people we do life with. It's less about the "where" and more about the "who" that we are becoming and the "who" that is around us. The only constant is that of the foundation of Christ. The only unchanging One is God. For everything, and everyone, else there are seasons and times - beginnings and ends - and that's okay.
These years have been seemingly lived out of a suitcase; all my memories are kept between the book-ends of transitions. I'm learning that, this side of Heaven, all ground is temporary. "Home" isn't about the walls we build, it's about the ones we tear down. It isn't necessarily about the physical place in which we exist, but the people we do life with. It's less about the "where" and more about the "who" that we are becoming and the "who" that is around us. The only constant is that of the foundation of Christ. The only unchanging One is God. For everything, and everyone, else there are seasons and times - beginnings and ends - and that's okay.
I pray that we always learn to tap into contentment and joy no matter where we find ourselves; that we keep our treasures in heaven and make "home" in The solid Rock instead of shifting sands. Lets seek the wisdom to know where to put down our roots, and the courage to open our hearts and doors to those around us.
April 22, 2012
Engagement
I'm getting married. I'm getting married. I'm getting married.
That impending reality sinks slowly as I sigh through my smile. I've never been the smitten-type, but my world was lifted from the ground on March 23rd and it is still descending.
If you know my story, and our story, you might be shaking your head in slight amusement. You might find yourself wanting to question "Didn't you see this coming?" or exclaim, with a smirk, that you "called it years ago". But for me, the moment Jared's knee went down, the flood gates opened.
It's not that I didn't expect it to ever come and it's not that I hadn't already made up my mind that I was going to spend the rest of my life with this wonderful man. In fact if it weren't for the two hands that somehow made their way up to cover my mouth, and the fact that the only thing I seemed to be able to move were the joyful tears from my eyes, I might've shrieked "YES" before he even finished a sentence.
I wasn't expecting the tornado of chaos and peace that began to twirl. In a fierce attempt to guard my heart I had never long-entertained the idea that this could be my reality. I didn't anticipate the freedom and assurance that immediately took root. And those things arrived to stay, at least for now.
I have a friend here at Moody whose summer is filled with friends weddings and many of her friends are "brides" in her mind and world. Recently we were chatting about what that meant for her and her response took me by surprise: "I am encouraged by you", she said, "You're such a peaceful bride". Another friend from home suggested they hadn't ever known me to be this restful.
Quickly I am realizing this journey is more than just a climax in a fairytale with my highschool sweetheart. I'm found in a season of endings and beginnings. I'm in steadfast battle and in constant process with all that is building. My world is turning, and I'm happily along for the ride.
That impending reality sinks slowly as I sigh through my smile. I've never been the smitten-type, but my world was lifted from the ground on March 23rd and it is still descending.
If you know my story, and our story, you might be shaking your head in slight amusement. You might find yourself wanting to question "Didn't you see this coming?" or exclaim, with a smirk, that you "called it years ago". But for me, the moment Jared's knee went down, the flood gates opened.
It's not that I didn't expect it to ever come and it's not that I hadn't already made up my mind that I was going to spend the rest of my life with this wonderful man. In fact if it weren't for the two hands that somehow made their way up to cover my mouth, and the fact that the only thing I seemed to be able to move were the joyful tears from my eyes, I might've shrieked "YES" before he even finished a sentence.
I wasn't expecting the tornado of chaos and peace that began to twirl. In a fierce attempt to guard my heart I had never long-entertained the idea that this could be my reality. I didn't anticipate the freedom and assurance that immediately took root. And those things arrived to stay, at least for now.
I have a friend here at Moody whose summer is filled with friends weddings and many of her friends are "brides" in her mind and world. Recently we were chatting about what that meant for her and her response took me by surprise: "I am encouraged by you", she said, "You're such a peaceful bride". Another friend from home suggested they hadn't ever known me to be this restful.
Quickly I am realizing this journey is more than just a climax in a fairytale with my highschool sweetheart. I'm found in a season of endings and beginnings. I'm in steadfast battle and in constant process with all that is building. My world is turning, and I'm happily along for the ride.
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