I knew yesterday, from the moment my alarm went off, was going to be a good day. As I trudged through the freshly fallen snow that crept into the top of my boots with each step, I hid my face in my hood. This snow came out of nowhere and no one was expecting it, but it was gorgeous. By the time I came back from working out, my sluggish tracks were covered with windblown snow and I struggled to keep my balance. I wasn't at all upset by the snow because it reminded me of home.
By the time I left the apartment, the sun had come out and everything was sparkling. I couldn't help but smile because it reminded me of home. By 1 o'clock, the plowed sidewalks were clear and the snow was leaving small puddles in the uneven pavement. Yep. Definitely like home.
It helps to have such a great day when you know you're going to be staying up all night. I had known for a couple of weeks that I would be helping out with a local youth lock-in and I had become uneasy. What if I wasn't excited? What if I fail at being a trooper with a bunch of middle school and high school students? Through out the day, I only felt my excitement grow. I knew that whatever was coming, God would provide energy to do it.
The Lock-In was great. It doesn't take a series of incredible events to make something great...It only takes one moment. One beautiful and raw moment to validate anything and everything else that happened. Don't get me wrong, the entire night went well and I'm sure that God touched kids in so many different ways but I want to focus on something that I realized. Maybe that's extremely individualistic, but maybe it's not all bad to share something you've realized.
When the girls and guys separated from the hours of 3am to 7am, we had a Q and A session where the girls could write down any question they had and a few of us college girls would answer them. The questions were expected: all pertaining to relationships and boys. The questions were mostly "What do you do if a boy likes you..." Or "What if you like a boy and..." Then, all of a sudden, the questions became more serious until this question came up: "How do you deal with a broken heart?"
My own heart dropped to the floor as I hear myself emit a chuckle. I remember thinking, "Really, God? Really? Do you think I've had enough time to be able to talk about this?" So, I heard myself volunteer to answer that one. The three other women on the panel, all freshmen and admitting to their happy relationships with their new college boyfriends, looked at me with relief. I took a deep breath and haltingly spoke the words I thought God had put on my heart.
It's been six months in dealing with that type of brokenness. As everyone knows, pains lessens over time but remembering that pain in the first few months was, in itself, painful. It's funny, though, because in the midst of my sleep deprivation as I drove to Starbucks to coax myself to stay awake through my morning shift at the campus post office, I had an epiphany. If the struggle that has been the past 6 months of my life was meant solely for that moment of honesty, where some girl in a crowd of 30-40 heard something that God wanted her to hear, then all of it was worth it. As I realized that, tears came to my eyes. If you had asked me if I would be able to do that a month ago, I would have laughed.
How can there be such contentment in something that's mending? I don't quite understand it. The only phrase that goes through my head when I play last night over in my head is "Glory to God. Glory to God. Glory to God forever."
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Challenges
It's not the spires of rock that jut into the atmosphere or the steep slope leading to the smoky crevice in a volcano, nor the chasm hidden beneath ever-dancing waves... The average person does not encounter these physical phenomena in everyday life. It's the construction of words, crafted carefully by the author, which rubs you the wrong way; which causes your mind's fingers to fumble through the files of your mind, desperate for knowledge that proves the construction false.
What if you don't know the answer? I enjoy challenges, especially when I am able to stand on it and say, "Ha. I conquered you. What now?" (Please imagine my arms spread wide and my head to the side with a little attitude. Because that's what I want to look like in this instance.)
More than likely, I do not know how to mount the challenge or if there is even a right answer. I have a choice: run away or hammer it to death with thinking. I'm in a class called "Ethnic and Minority Issues" and, as you can guess, there are already issues that I can't put into a category or solve right away. For instance, in reading a book called "The Next Evangelicalism," I became angry with the author who pointed fingers at the American White church and its ignorance. I became defensive, then I became confused. Am I proving the author right by writing him off and ignoring thinking it through? What if all the things I have been taught, growing up in middle class America, are biased and wrong? Why does my head feel so unorganized and tainted?
The author was very tactful when he said in the introduction of his book that there would be things that would make the reader angry and that would seem biased, prejudiced. I respect that he recognizes that and it immediately deflated my arguments. Why is it that I accept what people say when they preface things with "I know you're going to be upset" or "This may rub you the wrong way, but..." It's because I can see it coming. I can size up the challenge and prepare for it accordingly. It's when I don't see something coming that I cross my arms and stick out my tongue.
Unfortunately, God likes to operate, at least in my observations, when we say we know what is going on and we have a plan. God's operations rarely follow our plans and we become upset. We knew how we were going to approach that hurdle and we've just found out that we'll be doing gymnastics... on the balance beam that we thought was the hurdle. I don't know if that analogy even makes sense, but to someone who feels challenged with the unknown every day, it makes some sense. Encountering hard and distasteful things is a part of life. If we did not have those situations, we would wonder if we were really living. Christ calls us to be in the world, but not of the world.
So... get in the world. Face challenges and admit to some ignorance. You can't know everything. No one expects that. Unless you are their doctor, and you're probably not. I am trying to release myself of that pressure... hopefully I'll be successful. And hopefully you will be as well.
What if you don't know the answer? I enjoy challenges, especially when I am able to stand on it and say, "Ha. I conquered you. What now?" (Please imagine my arms spread wide and my head to the side with a little attitude. Because that's what I want to look like in this instance.)
More than likely, I do not know how to mount the challenge or if there is even a right answer. I have a choice: run away or hammer it to death with thinking. I'm in a class called "Ethnic and Minority Issues" and, as you can guess, there are already issues that I can't put into a category or solve right away. For instance, in reading a book called "The Next Evangelicalism," I became angry with the author who pointed fingers at the American White church and its ignorance. I became defensive, then I became confused. Am I proving the author right by writing him off and ignoring thinking it through? What if all the things I have been taught, growing up in middle class America, are biased and wrong? Why does my head feel so unorganized and tainted?
The author was very tactful when he said in the introduction of his book that there would be things that would make the reader angry and that would seem biased, prejudiced. I respect that he recognizes that and it immediately deflated my arguments. Why is it that I accept what people say when they preface things with "I know you're going to be upset" or "This may rub you the wrong way, but..." It's because I can see it coming. I can size up the challenge and prepare for it accordingly. It's when I don't see something coming that I cross my arms and stick out my tongue.
Unfortunately, God likes to operate, at least in my observations, when we say we know what is going on and we have a plan. God's operations rarely follow our plans and we become upset. We knew how we were going to approach that hurdle and we've just found out that we'll be doing gymnastics... on the balance beam that we thought was the hurdle. I don't know if that analogy even makes sense, but to someone who feels challenged with the unknown every day, it makes some sense. Encountering hard and distasteful things is a part of life. If we did not have those situations, we would wonder if we were really living. Christ calls us to be in the world, but not of the world.
So... get in the world. Face challenges and admit to some ignorance. You can't know everything. No one expects that. Unless you are their doctor, and you're probably not. I am trying to release myself of that pressure... hopefully I'll be successful. And hopefully you will be as well.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Ripples
Yesterday, I brought a binder to my Intro to Geology class. No big deal. In fact, that's normal. The funny thing is that the binder has calendar nature pictures from who knows how long ago. One of the pictures has mountains with a lake below, reflecting the peaks. Those types of pictures have always been my favorite because you have to strain to see where the real mountain ends and the reflection begins.
As I was sitting this morning in the student union, sipping on some coffee, I had a revelation; something struck me so I had to write about it, not only in my journal but someplace where I could share it with others.
Imagine you're standing in front of a mountain lake, with all the wonderful pine trees and wildflowers around you and the snow-capped peaks in the background. It's a wonderful place where you feel safe and full of joy. Looking at the peaks causes your neck to cramp so you look at the reflection. You forget that you're looking at a lake and you think that you're actually looking at the mountains. Gazing at the reflection, you immerse yourself in the details and the beauty of the nature around you. Suddenly, a breeze pushes across the lake and the mountain is lost. It's a myriad of colors. In your little world, your mountain has disappeared. You panic because you think that something horrible is happening because mountains don't just disappear. You don't know what to do and you despair. You've forgotten that the real mountains are waiting to be seen; they've never left.
I don't know if you can see through this analogy and you became annoyed with it, but let me flesh it out. So many times, in a young woman's life, she becomes enamored with the reflection of love. As Christians, we have an idea of what God's love is and our desire to receive that love from a young man. We become so infatuated with what we think is the real deal that we forget what God's love is truly like. Maybe your reflection is something other than a significant other, but bear with me.
When something happens and the person (or thing) into whom we've been pouring all our attention shows that he/it isn't as trustworthy or God-like as we thought, everything falls apart. Our hearts are broken and we think that everything that looks good and whole is just a figment of our imaginations. We lose faith. We've forgotten that there is a perfect and whole being (God)who can never be a myriad of blurring colors because he is steadfast and is with us always and everywhere. We look at the world and we say that all we want is to be whole and safe and protected when all we feel is hurt, alone, and betrayed. Finding our desires seems impossible because we've negated the best option, due to our forgetfulness: God.
I have to be thankful for the ripples. I would much rather be learning how to gaze upon the true mountain rather than investing time in a reflection that disappears as soon as a slight breeze hits it. I'm not saying this as an "I'm dating Jesus" cop-out. That's not what this is at all. In my limited experience, I have discovered that I have claimed true what is false, what is flawed as perfect, and what is human as infallible. As I pursue healing, I discover facets and perspectives of God I had never realized before the hurt. I suppose that makes the hurt worthwhile. At least for all immediate purposes and coping mechanisms.
As I was sitting this morning in the student union, sipping on some coffee, I had a revelation; something struck me so I had to write about it, not only in my journal but someplace where I could share it with others.
Imagine you're standing in front of a mountain lake, with all the wonderful pine trees and wildflowers around you and the snow-capped peaks in the background. It's a wonderful place where you feel safe and full of joy. Looking at the peaks causes your neck to cramp so you look at the reflection. You forget that you're looking at a lake and you think that you're actually looking at the mountains. Gazing at the reflection, you immerse yourself in the details and the beauty of the nature around you. Suddenly, a breeze pushes across the lake and the mountain is lost. It's a myriad of colors. In your little world, your mountain has disappeared. You panic because you think that something horrible is happening because mountains don't just disappear. You don't know what to do and you despair. You've forgotten that the real mountains are waiting to be seen; they've never left.
I don't know if you can see through this analogy and you became annoyed with it, but let me flesh it out. So many times, in a young woman's life, she becomes enamored with the reflection of love. As Christians, we have an idea of what God's love is and our desire to receive that love from a young man. We become so infatuated with what we think is the real deal that we forget what God's love is truly like. Maybe your reflection is something other than a significant other, but bear with me.
When something happens and the person (or thing) into whom we've been pouring all our attention shows that he/it isn't as trustworthy or God-like as we thought, everything falls apart. Our hearts are broken and we think that everything that looks good and whole is just a figment of our imaginations. We lose faith. We've forgotten that there is a perfect and whole being (God)who can never be a myriad of blurring colors because he is steadfast and is with us always and everywhere. We look at the world and we say that all we want is to be whole and safe and protected when all we feel is hurt, alone, and betrayed. Finding our desires seems impossible because we've negated the best option, due to our forgetfulness: God.
I have to be thankful for the ripples. I would much rather be learning how to gaze upon the true mountain rather than investing time in a reflection that disappears as soon as a slight breeze hits it. I'm not saying this as an "I'm dating Jesus" cop-out. That's not what this is at all. In my limited experience, I have discovered that I have claimed true what is false, what is flawed as perfect, and what is human as infallible. As I pursue healing, I discover facets and perspectives of God I had never realized before the hurt. I suppose that makes the hurt worthwhile. At least for all immediate purposes and coping mechanisms.
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