40 Days

Ash Wednesday was yesterday, thus beginning the Lenten season. I am not one for tradition or "doing" religion for the sake of religion, but I'm a fan of Lent.

This year I have done some research (read: looked it up on the internets) to figure out what exactly Lent is and why people do it, and here's what I've learned:

Lent is a season of fasting and prayer before Easter, usually celebrated by abstaining, which to me sounds like a great paradox. But more on that later. Fasting usually means abstaining from some (or all, though this is not a good idea for 40 days, in my opinion) food, and may be total or partial concerning that from which one fasts, and may be prolonged or intermittent as to the period of fasting. Some decide to pick one food to give up, like meat or sweets. Other people celebrate Lent by abstaining from things that could be unhealthy in their lives, like spending too much time on the internet. A good friend of mine is going to make a concentrated effort to not talk badly about people for 40 days and I think that's wonderful - and is definitely a challenge for most of us except for my roommate Katie because she is pretty close to perfect in the no gossip department.

Lent is a 40 day period that most commonly begins on Ash Wednesday and ends on Holy Saturday(not counting Sundays).

BUT! I just learned that there are other ways to count the 40 days:
- Some start on Ash Wednesday and end on Palm Sunday and count Sundays as part of Lent.
- Others start on the first Sunday after Ash Wednesday and end on Holy Thursday, also known as Maundy Thursday (the day before Good Friday). [AND! SIDE NOTE! For all of you who celebrate Maundy Thursday (like I do) and have no idea what it means (like i did, until today), maundy is derived from the first word of the Latin phrase Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos which is John 13:24, the words Jesus used to explain to the Apostles why he was washing their feet. LOVE IT!]

The number 40 is spiritually significant for many reasons:
- It rained for 40 days and nights during the great flood (you know, the whole Noah and the ark thing)
- Moses spent 40 days on Mount Sinai with God (WITH GOD! HOW COOL IS THAT?!?) and then another 40 days and 40 nights on the mountain WITH GOD a second time.
- The Israelites spent 40 days exploring the Promised Land and then had to spend 40 years in the desert before reaching the Promised Land (pretty much because they were complainy brats)
- After Jesus was resurrected, He spent 40 days with his disciples before he ascended into Heaven

And there are a bunch more in the Bible, check them out for yourself.


I tell you all of this because while I'm not a big fan of traditionalism, I am a big fan of symbolism...must be the English degree rearing its ugly head. Just like I love the Lord's Supper because it symbolizes the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus. It's a moment, maybe fifteen minutes, where we stop and remember what He did for us.

And I love the Lenten season because it's a symbol to the world (much like Advent) that we're waiting for something more. So why do we "celebrate" by abstaining? Because that which we pursue that is of this world is nothing compared to pursuing God. He is infinitely better than anything we can fathom. Abstaining does not show God how much we love Him and it does not make Him love us more, but instead helps to put things in a proper perspective - that He is greater than I.

I committed to spending thirty minutes a day in prayer for the next forty days. Though that might not seem like a lot of time to all of you super Christians, it is a big commitment for me. I'm almost ashamed to admit this, but entire days pass before I even acknowledge the presence of my Creator. I forget to let Him love me so that I can love other people. And my relationship with Jesus has GOT to be first, before my relationship with anybody/anything else (even the amazing relationship I have cultivated with sleep!)

So what am I "giving up" for Lent this year?

Myself.

My hopes, my dreams, my desires. My future and my past.

I'm laying it all out before Him. I've asked Him to transform me. It's a scary thing for me, but I'm ready to jump off the cliff.

"Sometimes the only way is jumping, I hope you're not afraid of heights" - Gavin DeGraw

new.

i've been back in the States for 2 weeks and i feel like maybe i can start to put my time in Ethiopia into words. maybe.

The only other country (besides the US) i can compare ET to is China…and the similarities begin and end at the super long plane rides and the overpowering smell of pollution. Even the plane rides were different – the trip to China was quiet for the most part. People didn’t really talk to each other unless they were traveling together. On the way to ET, everyone walked the aisles, hung out with each other like they were family, and children were screaming (The. Whole. Way. There.) Imagine chaos and you’ve got the flight to and from Ethiopia. Yes, it annoyed me, and no I couldn’t sleep, but I couldn’t help but notice and appreciate the difference in cultures.

The first day we were in country we spent time at the House of Hope. The HOH is kind of like a halfway house for children who have been matched with a family. They leave their orphanages and stay there until their family (from another country) comes to pick them up. The anticipation, at least amongst the older kids, is palpable. They have been chosen! They are going to be adopted into a new family and get a new name and a new life and a new home!

While we were playing with these SUPER CUTE kids all i could think about was their impending adoptions and how like God it is to take a life that was headed in one direction and make it new. The Bible talks about adoption in several places but i’m not sure i understood it until that day in Africa. Not only was I chosen (Eph 1:11-12) but I was (and am) transformed! I got a new life and a new (eternal) home.

The part that struck me the most about adoption was that the children are given a new name. It’s such a spiritual concept. I LOVE this about God! In Isaiah 62, Isaiah prophesies that, although Jerusalem was spiritually corrupt, one day they would be restored to glory. The people of Jerusalem were familiar with feelings of desolation and abandonment, but God promised that the days of war and destruction would pass and they will know how much He delights in them. He even promised to change their name (vs. 2)to reflect their transformation.

All our lives we are labeled. As children we are called names on the playground and as we get older we start to believe the lies that we are told. We believe we are too much or not enough, that we are too fat, too skinny, too [fill in the blank], that we are annoying, that we’re ugly, that we just can’t live up to expectations. But we have to trust that God absolutely did not intend for us to live our lives as if these labels belong to us, to claim them as if they’re our own.

Instead, He has changed my name! I am no longer called insecure, anxious, fearful, ashamed, or worthless, but instead a crown of splendor, a royal diadem, delightful, worth rejoicing over!

The children at House of Hope eagerly wait for their adoptive parents. Because they were chosen, they believe that rescue is coming. They will be given a new name. And with this new name comes the faith that what once was ashes will become beautiful.

a letter to the elizabeth of 2009

dear elizabeth of 2009,

remember this. remember the anticipation you wake with every morning. remember how you have to tell yourself, "youcandoit...5 more days [of work], 4 more days, 3 more days. youcandoit." then you go home for a week. then africa.

...africa. the word even sounds different to you now. it rolls off your tongue gently, with the knowledge that you'll be there soon. it swirls in your brain multiple times a day. it is a word that - for now - represents waiting, planning, a culmination of faith, big visions coming into fruition. it will sound different to you in january when you are there, and it is a word that will represent hope and joy and change for the rest of your life.

remember the lists you make as if you can really prepare yourself for this. remember the multiple phone calls with your partner in all things adventurous about the millions of small details that you get to take care of. remember the way you started packing 3 weeks before you leave, because you are just that excited.

remember the people who contributed their time, money, and prayers to make this happen. remember the first check you got in july from someone who believes in you - before you even bought your plane ticket . remember the girl who met you, heard about your trip, and wrote you a check all within 15 minutes because she has a heart for orphans. remember how you got a check in the mail from family friend, and the next day your sister - in - law asked if you could find people to help her pay for the shoes she found wholesale. remember how every child you meet in africa will have a pair of shoes because of a check and a phone call. remember the little girl who is already wearing her red wristband and prays for your safety [from wasps and bees!] every night. remember the sweet woman from church who doesn't know you very well but still handed you cash in an envelope, and remember your friend from church who dropped a check in the mail just this week and is now paying for your expenses in country. remember there are more stories than you can even begin write down.

most of all, remember the One who made you for this. who chose you for this. remember that He designed you . remember that He has given you everything you need. remember that He deserves ALL of the credit, ALL of the glory, ALL of the fame. remember that He loves you and that sumission to authority=a lifetime of mind blowing adventures.

love,
elizabeth of 2008

advent.

i wish i could take credit for this but i can't.


my friend ellie of merry everyday fame, as well as my partner in all things adventurous, wrote about advent on gloryology the other day, and it was so good i wanted to share.


(i apologize in advance if it makes you cry, because it makes me cry every time i read it!)


I’ve stopped several times over the past couple of weeks in an attempt to gather and form these thoughts into words. The season of Advent is unfamiliar territory to me (I admit I’m a tad ashamed). I remember lighting the candles each Sunday leading up to Christmas; I’ve heard the term Advent; but I can’t confirm that I’ve ever really grasped the larger concept or how it applies to daily living. So this Advent season I’ve been reading a book called Watch for the Light—I highly recommend it!

When I first started reading the book, I looked up the word advent and this is what my dashboard dictionary told me: advent, the arrival of a notable person, thing, or event. (Now that sounds like something I want to celebrate—how royal and noteworthy, and to think its something I believe!)

That suffices as a functional summary—in the least a foundation on which God has gradually been building the concept of Advent for me. Here is where I’ve been:



1. We annually celebrate Advent as the season leading up to Christmas, the birth of Jesus, the arrival of our Saviour, the reminder that He will come again.


2. Advent is largely a season of waiting. A season leading up to the arrival of something or someone constitutes waiting and likely for an unknown time. Sometimes we know what we’re waiting for, sometimes we don’t though it does seem we’re always waiting for something. So Advent happens over and over again in our lifetime.


3. How we wait is important and fairly indicative of our faith (see Luke 1, Zechariah vs. Mary).


4. Jesus is coming continually into our hearts and lives. He came from the womb of Mary. He arrives in our hearts when we begin our personal relationship with God. He graciously reveals Himself daily if we are diligent to watch for Him and sometimes even when we’re not. And I believe He beckons us out of our commercial holiday, not to refuse the celebration, but to acknowledge His presence, to behold His power, to give thanks for His grace, to be mindful of Him, to have our priorities reorganized, to prepare our hearts to receive more, to give us a glimpse of what is to come, the list goes on.


5. We wait for Him still.


I will fail to capture in this small space my witness to His coming. But I’ll try. We began our season of waiting earlier this year. There were highs and lows, but by far we refused to make M.E. happen on our own accord. We waited for God to unveil His marked path and determined the course accordingly. Had I thought to watch earlier I would have taken better notes.


I’ve seen Jesus come…in the first excited donation we received months ago before a stocking was ever mentioned, in the lady who even in a struggling economy staring job loss in the face has purchased more stockings for us with the arrival of each paycheck, in the family praying diligently for our trip while wishing with broken hearts that their own Ethiopian baby was home with them, in the family who not only opened up their hearts and home to their own adopted children but send a family’s worth of stockings to those who remain in orphanages, in the ones who give though they live on their own raised support, in the loyal friends who have followed the blog and participated though we haven’t communicated in months, in the couple who gave big not knowing the need, in the one who turned that gift into four boxes of shoes and then some, in the tiny church community who so generously gave us a place to lay our heads in Africa, in the youth groups and family and corporations and non-profits, and in the ones who used their spare change to buy my junk. Oh, I’ve seen Jesus! And there are others to whom I’m grateful. There are people on this continent I’ve never met who are wearing a red wristband and praying. And I am truly awestruck that this is only the beginning. Because it is not about the gifts or the stuff or the money or the givers or the planners or the go-ers. This all simply rests on the arrival of Jesus, His faithfulness to show Himself to those who believe, and His love extended to us even when we don’t.


So more than I want to offer a meager thank you (and we do Thank You), I just want to encourage you to watch for the Light.

Also, another great blog post on advent:
"Recovering the spirit of Advent can take many forms, but at the core it simply means to make space to be vulnerable with yourself and those in your community about the things you long for which only God can do. And in that space, remember that Christmas is about the miraculous, the supernatural, the 'are you kidding me, this can't be true?,' about the incomprehensible God of Gods with skin, moving into the neighborhood."

AFRICA!

check me out at gloryology.com today!

second chances

i skipped yesterday because i forgot.
I BLOGGED 23 DAYS IN A ROW AND I RUINED IT BECAUSE I FORGOT. WHO DOES THAT?

anyway, whatev, moving on....i've been busy. but i did get an email today and i wanted to share part of it, because it was so encouraging to read.

"....i feel like for most of my life, i've been fragmented. i've compartmentalized areas/times of my life into neat little boxes and kept them labeled (kinda like your gmail - haha), but by doing that, i've never really allowed myself to be whole. over the past few months, through God's grace and healing, He's been bringing all of those pieces together...allowing me to accept who i was and who i am, the good and the bad. restoring me. like....my life is a jigsaw puzzle, with some pieces here put together and another part over there and separately, they make various little images, glimpses of my life. but my Father is slowly sliding all of those pieces together into one complete picture. and everyday i get a glimpse of who i am in Christ...who i can be and who i will be."

so many people around me have been feeling broken and fragmented. 2008 has been a hard year...but He is the great Healer and is putting us back together, piece by piece.

that girl.

so, this guy wrote a post that inspired me. check it out, then come back and read mine :)

i constantly underestimate the power of Jesus.
i love the words ‘authentic’ and ‘real’ yet hole myself up in my room to avoid conversation– esp. when things need to be talked about.
i only post the good pictures of myself, and de-teg any with a double chin.
i have serious writers block when i have unresolved Heart Issues, though i would have you believe it’s because i’m so busy.
i am jealous of everyone else. probably even you.
i want to be unique.
i want to fit in.
i am super critical when i don’t understand or don’t agree.
i think my worldview is the ‘best’ or ‘right’ one.
i have a difficult time being fully present – i spend a lot of time in my future, and even more in my past.
i do a lot of things based on what i think others’ perceptions are of me.
i compare myself to everyone. probably even you.
i am too quick to judge.
i love to talk about myself.

but.

i am learning that you can’t follow Someone if you can’t trust them. and you can’t trust Someone if you don’t believe they love you.

God loves me.

i really, really want to believe Him, to trust Him, to follow Him.

shadow feet*

Dear Jesus,

Walking, stumbling
on these shadowfeet
toward home, a land that i've never seen
i am changing: less and less asleep
made of different stuff than when i began

four years ago we left for China, and one year ago i wrote about how my life has changed since then. this past year has perhaps been one of the most difficult. some days i think i have it all together but some days it's all i can do to hang on to anything. but after this year, i believe even more that You have it all together, that You have my life together, and i'm trying to learn how to simply rest in You.

and i have sensed it all along
fast approaching is the day...

You are continually refining me and renewing my spirit. You are showing me more about myself than i wanted to know, but in doing so you are showing me more about Yourself, and who i am in You. You are healing me from the depths of my soul. You are asking me to reveal parts of myself that i never wanted to face, much less share with other people. You are teaching me to live out loud, to be authentic, to be the same on the outside as i am on the inside. and at the same time, You are teaching me that Your opinion is the only One who matters, that what You think of me is the most important.

when the world has fallen out
from under me
i'll be found in you
still standing
when the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees
when time and space are through
i'll be found in you

there have been times that i have wanted to give up, throw it all away, to walk right back over to that pit and jump in. but i can't.

There's distraction buzzing in my head
saying in the shadows it's easier to stay
but i've heard rumors of true reality
whispers of a well-lit way

i can't, i won't, because the life You've created for me is better than i could have ever written for myself. you have changed me irreversibly. i committed to follow you whatever it took, and i would be lying if i said it was not a sacrifice. i have sacrificed the very things i thought i never could, and i'm still standing. everything that i clung to is slowly being removed, changed, reshaped. and the sacrifice doesn't seem like a sacrifice compared to knowing You love me. i know that when we get to the other side of all of this, that even if i have nothing left, i will still have You. and You are all that i need.

when the world has fallen out from under me
i'll be found in you
still standing
when the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees
when time and space are through
i'll be found in you

recently You've reconciled some things in my life that needed reconciling, and for that i'm grateful. You're bringing me full circle. You're teaching me to forgive myself and forgive others. You're teaching me how to talk to people and how to really listen. You are teaching me how to feel appropriate emotions and instead of allowing me to continue to build up walls You are knocking them down one brick at a time. You have placed trustworthy people in my life who will hold up a mirror and show me the repercussions of my actions.

you make all things new.

It's still an adventure, Jesus...and I will follow you with reckless abandon.

love,

elizabeth

* by brooke fraser

He's still my healer.

Remember when I wrote this?

Well, I just found out that apparently, the story behind the Healer song isn't true.

For a moment I was thrown for a loop - but then I remembered that I do know Truth:

God is still my healer.
God is STILL all that I need.
He STILL holds all of my moments.
And STILL, nothing is impossible for Him.

Just because the story isn't true doesn't mean the lyrics aren't.

There's a good discussion going on over here.

correspondence wednesday (cont'd)...

...which, like i said, doesn't exactly exist on my blog. but i wanted to follow up:

dear old navy,

i was right!

thank you todd oldham,

elizabeth

------------------------------------------------

dear stephenie meyer's publishers,

thank you. it ended so well. please pay stephenie meyer lots of money to keep writing about these people [ahem, werewolves and vampires] - i miss them already.

bella and edward forever,

elizabeth

------------------------------------------------

dear ethiopia,

140 days.

still [and only] because of Jesus,

elizabeth

-------------------------------------------------

dear jersey shore,

you were just what i needed. thank you for the perfect weather, for the perfect sunrise, for the perfect vacation.

made for the beach,

elizabeth

-------------------------------------------------

dear best friend,

adventures with you are always more fun. here's to pottery painting, miniature golfing, fashion showing, beach reading, alarm clock beeping, ocean beatings, Jesus acting, and sunrise watching. there's no one else like you.

love,

elizabeth

merry everyday.

Commentary: Our tragedy and God's love for orphans by Steven Curtis Chapman

FRANKLIN, Tennessee (CNN) -- According to UNICEF, there are 143 million children in the world who have lost one or both parents.

In America alone, there are half a million children in foster care, and approximately 120,000 of these children are waiting to be adopted. In many countries, children are too often orphaned or abandoned because of poverty, disabilities and disease; every 15 seconds, a child loses a parent because of AIDS. These are staggering facts that can seem overwhelming and discouraging, but I believe that God has a loving plan for each child, and that plan is you and me.

Caring for these children is not the job of governments or institutions; instead, it is the job of families, people and communities. As Christians, our compassion is simply a response to the love that God has already shown us. Mother Teresa would constantly remind those who worked with her that the Bible clearly teaches that whatever we do for the least of these, we do for Jesus. So in a very real sense, caring for orphans is a chance to meet the person of Jesus in "the guise of human suffering." This is an invitation from the heart of God to know him and to experience his love.

read the rest...

the part that struck me is this:

"If only 7 percent of the 2 billion Christians in the world would care for a single orphan in distress, there would effectively be no more orphans. If everybody would be willing to simply do something to care for one of these precious treasures, I think we would be amazed by just how much we could change the world.

We can each do something, whether it is donating, adopting, fostering, mentoring, visiting orphans or supporting families that have taken in orphans. You can change the world for an orphan."

let's change the world for orphans.

if You would shine Your love down here...make our hearts as perfect as new...

It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life...

- a. cohen

back in early june i knew change was coming; it was this ominous cloud that hung over everything i did. i thought about it constantly - the what ifs and i don't knows and the this is the last time we'll get to [fill in the blank]. and now, i'm almost on the other side, the side where i get used to how different life looks when everything changes. and hopefully soon life as it is will seem "normal," whatever that means. and then, i'm sure, it will begin to change again.

i am a walking paradox - i love new people and new places and new experiences for myself, but when i'm done with all that and ready to rest and find some stability for a season i expect my world to look the same as it did before. it never does. and selfishly, i hope that the people in my life don't move or change. i'm the one who's 'supposed' to do the leaving. unfair, i know.

in the midst of change i find myself trying desperately to hold on to what i can while attempting not to control things. easier said than done, right?

one day maybe i will embrace change instead of resisting it. i don't want the constants in my life to be about location or circumstance, and instead be about maintaining relationships across the country or even across an ocean all the while enjoying the here and now. it's the balance that i have difficulty with.

since i moved to new york, i find myself saying "it's SUCH a small world" all the time. i meet someone on a plane with whom i attended college, and she becomes a good friend. my roommate and i are on the beach and end up in conversation with a couple who go to UT Knoxville, and last semester the girl lived next door to one of my favorite people. while i'm visiting tennessee, a friend and i are flipping through some of my photos and she recognizes a girl she went to middle school with. the girl she recognized? the wife of our worship leader. i get a positive comment on a recent blog post, and i realize that not only is he the pastor of my best friend's church, but the blog i wrote was based on a sermon he preached in the first place.

small world. funny stories. throughout all of this, God is quietly whispering (whispering, because you can't yell at fragile people, right?) that He is sovereign. that He orchestrated the entire world. that these strange "coincidences" aren't really coincidental, but perhaps a display of His originality in weaving my life together. and that when He looks at me, He wants to see His reflection, so all of this is part of refinement. but most of all, i am reminded that though everything else changes, He never does. when my world is spinning and changing, He remains steadfast.

...if You would shine Your love down here...i promise i'd reflect it right back at You
- Copeland, When Finally Set Free

healer.

a couple of weeks ago my friend ellie told me about this song by hillsong that i needed to listen to. i'm a big hillsong fan; they're my go-to band (are they a band? the whole hillsong thing kinda confuses me) when i'm in the mood for some good worship songs. i mean, it's impossible to not love lyrics like "i'm believing, trusting in creative Hands" and, "everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades...never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame" and "I called You answered, and You came to my rescue..." and "arrested by your truth and righteousness, your grace has overwhelmed my brokenness"(from Devotion, From the Inside Out, Came to My Rescue, and To Know Your Name, respectively).

the new song, which will be on their new CD This is Our God, is called Healer. it's a good one.

The story behind the song can be found here.

The lyrics of the song bring me back to a conversation i had last week with my best friend. she and i talked about how we're all broken and in need of healing. this isn't a new concept, i've written about it before and it's certainly been the topic of many a conversation. but she brought up a point that had never crossed my mind. she said that we know God can heal our wounds and turn them into scars, but why aren't we asking God to heal our scars? better yet, why aren't we sure He can?

we interact with people according to our wounds (past hurts we've not healed from yet) and scars (past hurts we're healed from, but have left an evident mark on us). we choose our friends and those we surround ourselves with according to where we've been and the different types of pain we've experienced and endured. we make our pasts our platforms - our jumping off points. we talk about our pasts as if they are still part of us - and i know they are, but what if they don't have to be? what if we allow Him to remove our scars as well?

I'm beginning to believe that part of grace might be in forgetting. I believe that my past doesn't have to be my platform.

I want to give him my wounds and my scars and be completely healed. i no longer want "visible" reminders of where i've been, mistakes i've made, ways i've been wronged or hurt. i want God's grace to extend to that part of me too - the scarred part. i want to believe that it can extend to the depths of me and even beyond that.

though i'm not sure where i heard it, in high school one of my favorite quotes was "God can mend a broken heart, but you have to give Him all the pieces." i didn't really know what a broken heart looked like then (or at least not the way i do now), but maybe it's time for me to take it a step further and ask him to heal the cracks and fissures that remain in the aftermath of the brokenness.

merry everyday 08!

we're Ethiopia bound...go read about it!

love in its truest form

"i've been thinking of changing my mind
it never stays the same for long
but of all the things i know for sure
You're the only certain one"

- Arithmetic, Brooke Fraser

diving in

friends-
...this conjunction of souls, like waves which met and break, subsides also backward over things, and gives all a fresh aspect.
-Henry David Thoreau

i'm on the edge of change, and this has caused some inner turmoil. lately my heart has weighed heavy with the what ifs and i don't knows.

my friend elizabeth (the other one) called me while she was driving home from arkansas last night after dropping her oldest son off at [his first every sleepover] camp. earlier that day she watched him take his swimming test. at this camp, each child has to be able to swim the width of the river so that he or she doesn't have to wear a life jacket the rest of the summer unless it's necessary. basically, he just had to prove that he could swim.

elizabeth said that watching him made her cry. [side note: on jonah's fourth birthday the two of us cried because he was turning four. we sat at ihop with teams streaming down both both of our cheeks just bcause it was his birthday]. i've known this child since he was 18 months old, so i got the crying. and now he's almost 9 and about to spend 12 days in the hands of camp counselors where he knows no one and when did he grow up so much and where did those chubby cheeks go?...and...and....and.

yes. transition. life's changes. i understand.

for the test they stationed lifeguards every few feet, just in case something happens. or that was her assumption anyway. but as the kids swam, she realized that the lifeguards were also there to encourage them, to cheer them on, to support them. they called each child by name while saying things like, "you can do this! just a little bit further! you've got this! don't quit now!" for some of thm they yelled, but for others they spoke so softly the spectators could hardly hear.

the reason elizabeth shared this with me is this:
she realized this is just like life. she learned yesterday that God does the same thing...he wants his children to jump in the water, but along the way He sets up guideposts for us. He puts people in our lives to swim with us. while sometimes He uses them to carry us, to swim with us, other times we have to swim alone while He watches...but every few feet we come across another person He has placed there. and some friends are for just one season, but others are for several, or even all of them.

i love that the tone of the words was tailored for the person swimming - they were called by name! sometimes we need to be cheered on loudly (Job 37:2-5), but sometimes we simply need a gentle whisper, a kind word, a quiet reminder (Zephaniah 3:17).

He knows what we need, WHO we we need, and when we need them. His ways are mysterious but His timing is always, always perfect.

in conversation

E: And by the way, I really admire how you asked everyone for advice on Sunday. That’s something I’m not very good at, so I admire it when people do!
R: Oh geez! Asking for advice was seriously a desperate plea. Of course, in the end, I just had to have it out with JC in the park.
E: Isn’t that like God though? We can ask everyone for advice, but in the end you end up having it out with JC in the park.

like a thousand miles of fire

one year ago:
on a plane heading to Tennessee. into the unknown. 12 days of "i don't know."

"What do you do in New York?"
"I don't know."

for the first time in 10 months i didn't want to leave new york. i was afraid i would miss something. i finally had friends. we were about to move in together. but i was excited about going home. about leslie's show. about preparing for/helping with REVO. about spending several days in nashville with ellie. about my heart being at rest for the first time in too long.
i wanted to be in new york. i wanted to be in nashville. thus perpetuating the tug of war in my heart...home vs...um? home?

i went back to TN with zero expectations and You blew me away.

anniversaries - dates, i guess - are important to me. i like to measure time that way. i like to measure growth that way. i love to look back at the last year or two and compare them to now.

now:
new job. the friends i didn't want to leave? some of my best. my heart is still. my mind is not confused. i am content - not necessarily comfortable, but content. my relationships have changed, but only because they needed to.
now:
i'm okay with not knowing what's next. i still plan, but plans change. i love my life. some things are still not reconciled, but You asked me to focus on You. I try. I fail, but still try.

I can't even fathom what's ahead. But today, I'm going to go to Brooklyn with my friends. I'm going to wear my cowboy boots with some leggings and pretend to be 'brooklyn cool.' i'm going to be content. we're going to go to thrift stores and laugh and talk and laugh some more.
and next year, i'm going to look back on april 12 and remember how good it was, and how good it will be.

but most of all, how good You are.

where are you going?

"We are part of such a restless generation. Always moving, going, seeking then finding, and choosing to seek more. We are not a generation of finding roots in one place.

Because we find roots in every place.

To be moving is to be grounded. It seems like a strange paradox and there are definitely some people who abuse this freedom in order to run. The true movers in this generation don't run. They constantly seek the will of God and beg to be used wherever they are. On the other hand, runners constantly seek a will of their own and use God when necessary. But a mover waits on God. The mover allows their life to bear fruit always.

And leaving never means running.

It means obedience, or searching to find, or chasing the trail that the feet in front of you left behind. It involves adventure, but mostly change. They do not see life as something to defend or be ashamed of. So they welcome change. And this change usually takes place from the inside-out. As the mover becomes more aware of who lives inside of them, change happens."

Photo by Alison Kendrick

Excerpt from 'Don't Run, Be Moved' by Leslie Dudney; read the rest here.

It's no coincidence that both were emailed to me today. God's cool like that...

A while back I was filling out one of those social networking profiles, and I wrote that I hadn't found good sushi in New York yet. I guess somewhere in the back on my mind I didn't want to find good sushi. You see, I love sushi at home in Tennessee. I love going to my favorite local place with my dad and my sister (and sometimes good friends) and getting the Las Vegas and Yum Yum Rolls. I love the good conversation and the familiarity. Good sushi equals home and comfort; bad sushi equals not home and discomfort. So I've only half-heartedly looked, because I wasn’t ready to become comfortable here. I wasn’t ready to call New York “home.”

The last few weeks—months if I'm really honest—of my life have been a series of uncertainties mixed with a heavy dose of discontentment. I have realized (again) how terrible I am at committing myself to anything for longer than a year. Since graduation three years ago, I’ve made two major moves and two extreme career changes. One day a friend called me and asked me what exactly I was running from. I'm sure I made up some excuse or probably attempted to justify my actions, but she was right. I was running.


I guess, in a way, I've always been running. From what, I’m not quite sure—I've got a great family, the world's best friends, a fantastic home church, etc. To some girls (especially single, 25-year-old girls) settling down is crucial. And yes, one day I'll probably want that. But I'll be the first to admit, the idea of doing the same thing every day for the rest of my life scares me. And that's not to say that owning a house and having a real career and getting married means the adventures stop—I know this is totally untrue. I just think I have a fear of monotony. I am your classic escapist.

I've known this about myself for a long time, but hadn’t quite grasped it until recently. When I’m visiting Tennessee, I want to be in my beloved city of New York. When I’m in New York, I feel like I’m missing so much in Tennessee. I've always been one to focus on what's next, what adventure God's going to bring me (or send me on) after this one. While that's not inherently bad, I forget to enjoy the moment. I focus on the future so I don't have to think about the present. Some days I get so consumed with my job and my life (which is surprisingly monotonous—oh, the irony) that I forget where I am. I forget to look up. I forget to be grateful that I got exactly what I asked for, and I need to enjoy my stay in New York City while it lasts.

In “Chocolate,” a song by Snow Patrol, the band declares, “All these places feel like home.” I realized that “home” is relative. The only stability in my life is my relationship with God, and He must be enough. If I can become content with Him, my surroundings don’t have much bearing on my perspective or attitude. I am in the process of understanding what Paul spoke of in his letter to the people at Philippi when he claims, “… I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want” (Philippians 4:11b-12, TNIV). Paul was arrested and beaten and broken and homeless and hungry all for the sake of following Christ, and yet he was still content. He knew his security was in Jesus, not any outward circumstance. More than anything, I yearn to find my satisfaction in Him—not my home, job, money (or lack thereof), relationships, dreams or anything else I attempt to control. Jesus is my refuge, my solid ground, my only hope.

This morning I woke up and felt that something had shifted. My perspective had changed—I was happy to be alive and happy to go to work. I walked up the stairs from the subway, and I just stopped and looked up. Surrounded by metal and tall buildings and hordes of people with their own agendas, I was delighted.

"Be here now," He whispered.

Today at work we ordered sushi for lunch. And it was incredible.