tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33464023290208754512024-03-13T06:39:38.139-04:00Ever ArrivingI am not who I was. And yet, I am not who I will be. These are my thoughts as I walk through this life, my life, on this journey, toward home. Slowly, surely, being transformed. Ever arriving.
'But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain...(1 Cor 15:10)'Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-26902534261374714092018-07-26T02:23:00.001-04:002018-07-26T02:23:46.852-04:00The Truth About Fear.<span style="font-size: large;">If I had to put a name to the thing that's dogged my heels my whole life, I'm realizing I would have to call it fear.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Fear.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's a liar and a thief and it will destroy us if we feed it long enough. Like a weed, it will begin to choke out all the things we long to grow in our lives and in our souls.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But fear has never been my Savior- He is. Fear is not my Abba or my ever-present help: He is.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe I was raised by fear. Maybe its words were the ones I replayed as I lay in my bed at night and maybe its rules were the ones I gladly followed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But fear is a terrible, terrible master (and an even worse father). It's a thief (of joy), a liar, a destroyer It lies and makes you believe the worst is lurking up ahead for you. It wants to keep you small and unsure and tight in its unholy embrace. It does not free us or heal us and it cannot love us.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">When has fear ever saved? When has fear ever given us all we long for? When has it ever encouraged us to dream, to be bold, to live freely? It cannot. Because it is not God.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But I can tell you I've made it a god. That whole don't-make-an-idol-in-your-own-image-thing? What is fear but a bundle of <u>my</u> own worst hangups and impulses- and I'm holding that up like it's something to follow (worth following)? Exalting it to the status of being who I consult to make decisions and lead me toward becoming who I long to be. I've been following its voice, its rules, its guiding instead of the LORD's. And it has led me nowhere worthwhile and given NO life. [There is a difference between fear and wisdom.] It has given no life because it cannot. Yet I hold it up like it is wisdom, like it is worthy of my following and my devotion. Like it will lead me where I want to go, fulfill me in ways that are real and lasting and build the kind of life I long for. When in reality, fear can only steal and lie and destroy- because it is from the Enemy of our souls.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So I will listen to his voice no more. It won't be easy but my God is for me and so I <b>can</b>. And it will be worth it because I was made for more than fear's embrace. I was made for the arms of God.</span>Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-37230738687026400402018-06-29T05:52:00.002-04:002018-06-29T05:52:51.933-04:00"And when He answers.."<span style="font-size: large;">I don't know how to say this except to say it straight: I am deeply afraid to ask.</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">It came to light on Wednesday. I met this lady- this wonderful woman who knows and loves Jesus so deeply. Who was saturated with the Holy Spirit to the point that to meet her is to know that He is the center of her world. And joy practically oozed out of her pores. It sounds cheesy to say but I can promise it didn't feel cheesy. It was honest and real and hard fought and hard won, through stories and journeys that aren't mine to share in this space.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I mostly sat and listened to she and my friend (who is the reason we met) catch up and share. When I talked, I mostly asked her questions about herself or added to my friend's observations.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">And then she talked about doing what she was made for, both the struggle to accept it and to feel like she was enough for it....and the joy in it now. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">And I felt my heart groan under the weight of how much I longed to be her. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Not because I want her story, but because I ache to know what I was made for. It makes my eyes fill with tears just to type those words. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'll admit there is a piece of me that believes that knowing that will make all paths straight and smooth out the way before me. And that's a lie. And it's idolatry. Because it's trusting and putting my hope in the future, not in the God who is sovereign over it and over me. And that's something I have struggled with my whole life. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">But back to Wednesday. My heavy heart led me to break the silence with ten little words:</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">"I just wish I knew what I was made for."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The conversation moved on, with me downplaying that desire as I'm prone to do. But later, as we prepared to leave, she moved closer to where we sat on the couch and said:</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">"You're applying to all kinds of things, aren't you? Like throwing darts and just hoping that something will stick somewhere and that something will fall into your lap and that will be the right thing. And that's not what you were made for. He wants you to go get with Him. To ask Him what it is He wants you to do. And when He answers, you set your face like flint after that thing."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">And those words brought me to tears and stifled sobs, because she was so terribly right, even to the point of using words I'm positive I have used myself over the last few months. And they've been swirling around my head on repeat since then. I don't remember if she ever called it fear, but I know she knew the truth: I'm terrified to ask Him. And as much as I love knowing the "why" behind almost everything in the universe, I don't really think it matters here. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Because the problem here is not why I'm afraid to ask so much as it is that I don't trust His heart. I don't trust Him to answer. I fear if He does He might lead me into something that might take everything from me and still find me wanting, or something I would not understand, or something that I would hate. I'm absolutely petrified He will lead me to a place of failure. What if I can't hear Him? What if I get it wrong? What if there are walls I cannot move? What if I ask, really ask, and He doesn't answer? What then? How do you move on from that?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">And even if I sit in counselor's offices or over cups of coffee with friends or in a pastor's office for hundreds of hours each, it won't heal me. Not alone. What I need is faith. And I can't produce faith on my own-faith is a <i>gift</i>. And it's one I'm longing for. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I think it's amazing that He gave me the truth about all of this before Wednesday's conversation ever occurred. Last week I woke up and was lying in bed and feeling a lot of fear. And I started talking to Him about it. Now over the last few years I've somehow learned to call Him "sir" instead of the child's voice crying Abba. Often I approach Him more as an impartial judge from whom I need advice and wisdom than as the Abba who looks on me with love. But that morning as I opened the conversation I called Him Abba. And that's when the thought struck me with a sharpness that has not diminished at all in the week since, and with a ferocity and clarity that clearly marked it as His: </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Fear is not my Abba; He is.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">And there is so much more I plan to say on that subject very soon. But here in this space I want to ask for prayer: prayer for the courage- the faith- to ask Him. And grace to listen too. He knows I'm often impatient and fearful. Please pray He gives me courage to stay and a heart of faith to believe He will come and that it cannot be less than beautiful when He does, because He is good and He loves me. And you. He is good and loves you too. May we believe it and cry Abba with our whole hearts to the One who is faithful for all eternity. </span></div>
Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-79505303700750924472016-03-26T19:39:00.002-04:002016-03-26T19:39:57.933-04:00Sitting in Saturday's Dark<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">It’s Saturday. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">That awkward space that lies
between the Friday when Jesus died, when we look at the Cross and all He
experienced, and Sunday, when we celebrate joyfully His resurrection. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">This day is my favorite. This
is the day I need to reflect on perhaps more than any other. This is the day
that challenges me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">Because this is the only day
in all of history that Jesus didn’t breathe. This is the day that every hope
was truly dead. This is the day that it looked impossible to redeem. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">This is the day of waiting,
the day that the disciples woke up and tried to figure out how to keep
breathing when their hearts were shattered. And they couldn’t distract
themselves with work or business; it was the Sabbath. They were left to their
thoughts and their sorrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">Where had they gone wrong?
Where was God? Was this all that was left- broken dreams and a dead Messiah? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">They had left everything,
banked every hope on the man they watched die yesterday. Maybe they understood,
maybe they knew what was coming.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">But I don’t think so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">They were just human. They
saw the man they believed to be God die. How can God die? Don’t you think they
questioned their judgment, their belief that He was the one they had been
waiting for? Maybe even that He was who He said He was? I would have. How could
they not? He was dead and laying in a tomb. They saw the blood. They knew.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">This day is dark and full of
uncertainty, questions, and brokenness…but God planned it this way. I can’t say
for sure why, but I have a suspicion. I think He knows that we need to learn
how to wait. To lament. To learn to rely, to be stripped down. Friday was so
emotional and I’m sure it seemed insane, but this was the day of emptiness. Of
brokenness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">This is the day that tells me
God is ok with the broken places. This day reminds me that God is ok with
questions and aching hearts who are trying to understand. That God planned a
day of waiting in the middle of the worst and best things, respectively, to
ever happen on the earth, says that He is patient. There will never be a worse
day for this world that the Saturday when Jesus lay dead in a grave 2016 years
ago. This is the day that tells me over and over that nothing is beyond redemption.
The One who planned all along to redeem the death of Jesus- perfect, both God
and man, who wrapped the fullness of God’s character in flesh and bone- still
redeems. So even when I am sitting in the dark, in places that haven’t seen
redemption yet, I can wait in hope because this darkness is real, but it cannot
compare to the light that is coming. That even though the death is real, the
life that is coming with the dawn is what speaks the final word. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">I don’t want to miss the
wait. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">Naturally, I hate waiting-
especially for answers. I want to understand and I want it yesterday. I want to
feel better. I want to move forward. But seasons of wait, just like the
Saturday before Easter morn, stop me and remind me that my hope is not in the
good that is coming, but the God who comes close and sits with us in the dark,
in the silence, in the loss. He is ok to wait—the One who never has to wait,
who created the very concept of time. He says waiting is good. He sent Jesus
“at just the right time”, the Bible says. And He saw fit to leave a day between
the death and the resurrection. There was a reason, and His Spirit whispers to
me not to miss it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">So I will wait. Here, with
Him, I will stay and remember and wait for the dawn to come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-63670873494685005212015-04-19T01:28:00.000-04:002015-04-19T01:28:04.535-04:00Scars.<span style="font-size: large;">We try to define you, to make you easy to understand. To grab and yank and push and pull and try to control you. We wrap you up in ideas and sayings and anything that looks nice and pretty because the unresolved is painful to our Western souls.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But You are so much more. You are ever so much more. And I wanna know you as you <i>are</i>, not as I want you to be. I want you to be bigger than a list of characteristics to rattle off, deeper than a formula for a way to live. Get down deep in my heart. It's cracked and beat up, scarred and totally imperfect, but if you'll have it, it's yours. I have only the tiniest glimpse of how beautiful it could be, you here with me. Cause these cracks? They can be the start, like the first tear in a birthday present, of you getting down to what's inside. The bruises? They can find the grace to heal in your hands. All my weariness? I'm told there is rest where you are. And oh how I want to believe that: that I can lay down, and stop striving. That I don't have to<i> be</i> anything, anything except with you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">You whisper again that you know what it is to be scarred. And as you reach your hand out, I feel the tissue where they healed, and the imperfection of it all--how can you, holy and perfect, wear imperfection still? I forget you still choose to be like me in this, that I might remember: that's how far you came. And that I don't have to be perfect or tied up in pretty ribbons or even whole <i>because nothing is yet as it will be.</i> You wait, and you long for us, until you can come and take us from all of this. When finally there will be nothing in between us but love and joy in one another forever. And you yearn, from the deepest part of you [and how deep is the heart of God? Is there any measure for it?] for us to know you now. To delight in you, because you have loved us with everything you are. [And what is the measure of <i>that</i>?] You gave everything, absolutely everything, up to come and take our hands and all our brokenness and lead us home. And you still wear those scars, the scars of my rebellion, to remind: that you came that far. That you chose me, knowing the cost, and would choose me all over again. You wear those scars like a tattoo, a declaration to all who see of just how far love will go. You wear them still to remind me that it's ok to bring my scars. That I will be scarred by this world, this life. But that just as you rose from death to life, and just as you later brought us with you, wounds don't ever have to be the last word with you. Your scars, they display your <i>power</i>. They're memorials of the day when you flipped everything upside down and death itself turned backwards- so what can you NOT do?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Surely my weak knees and frail arms and fickle heart are not too much for you. Surely they can't turn back your love, love that came so far and already paid the fullness of its cost. Surely those scarred hands that hold me close even when I squirm and fight and yell like a four-year old that I don't want you and can take care of myself and when I am a broken 7 year old who just needs and needs and when I am a 20-something who thinks she knows far more than she does and is slow to actually learn-surely those hands, those arms, are big enough, strong enough, to take me-all my weaknesses and scars and fears and shame and pride included- and make me whole. Not flawless. Those aren't the same thing. You leave my scars, my limps, because they are testimonies of what you have done. Could you make me whole and leave no trace? Of course. But then I would miss every bit of the beauty, the wonder, of pointing to my scars and saying, "See that? That was a deep wound; it pained me for years. He healed it." and "This one? This sin kept me wrapped up for a long time. It owned me but I didn't even know I was enslaved. It's still healing, you can see. Isn't He so good, to set me free? To teach me how to live free?" The scars are the stories of your faithfulness. You didn't have to heal us-but you did. You could have left me lost and broken-but love is never content with less than what's best for the beloved.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">You wear your scars because they are the proof of what you went through to bring us home; and if we live this life trying to look like you, laying ourselves down, dying to all our selfish pride, and suffer for any and all if that's what it takes (and it does) to love like you, then we might just have some to match yours when we get home.</span>Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-75465222576678613412015-04-05T03:17:00.000-04:002015-04-05T03:17:48.641-04:00He: An Easter Reflection<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He bore my shame so I didn't have to.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He was forsaken by God so I never would be.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He was crushed so I could be healed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He suffered without cause so I would never suffer meaninglessly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He was punished so I could go free.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He died so He could raise me from my grave.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He was condemned so I could stand in mercy, not judgement.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Though He was the rightful Son, He was laid low and disgraced so I could be spared such disgrace.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He was perfect and covered my imperfection with love and sinless sacrifice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He chose a grave to break my chains.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He walked a path of suffering, loneliness, and sorrow so that road would lead me to life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He embraced death to bring me home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">His loving arms guide me to the Father and lift my face to see His eyes of love on me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Because He fought death and beat it forever, I am no longer held captive by fear.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Now face to face, heart to heart, I am accepted, beheld as righteous, adopted, and free-</span><br />
<div style="text-align: start;">
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Beloved.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> This day proves the promise</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> that I am and always will be,</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> His beloved.</span></span></div>
Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-22895869013759633172014-12-24T14:40:00.000-05:002014-12-24T14:41:43.429-05:00When Christmas doesn't feel like Christmas {for every hurting heart}.<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">here where strife and shame have a standing invitation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">here where hurt has overstayed its welcome by months, years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When traditions are overturned and stability is void.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When parents become children and children become the
caregivers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When quarreling has a plate set at dinner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When extravagance is pursued to cover what is missing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When you are surrounded by “family” who are strangers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When hate seems to have won the day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When we are lonely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When sorrow steals the light from our eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When nothing shines like it used to-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Not the lights or the tree or the gifts or the stars<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">That wait with anticipation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When nights are sleepless, aching, empty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When bitterness has dug its roots into your soul.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When love is far from sight,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Far from our arms,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">With no return ticket.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When we fight instead of sing,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When we throw words like flaming arrows, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And scar hearts made for eternal love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When the sky is dark,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And we are sitting in the ashes,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Cold and shivering,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Wondering when, or if,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Dawn will ever break.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t feel like
Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When we are crumbling under the weight<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Of worries that bend our backs<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And break our spirits.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And it doesn’t feel like Christmas,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When we are worn out,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Threadbare from hurry, needs unmet,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Grief, depression, suffering-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Name the poison.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn’t feel like Christmas when life is this hard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">But the truth is Christ still came,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">For exactly these reasons,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">For the aches in our souls <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">that we can barely endure-He came.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Because He knows us;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">He knows that we are dust,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">We are weak and lonely and poor in spirit, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Whatever else in the world we may be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And He saw us, and loved us in our broken state.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And so He came.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">To deliver. To renew. To right every wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">To comfort. To redeem. To give life,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Where we had only ever tasted death,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">To bring the love of God to us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When we could never reach His heights,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">He came to our depths.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Because He is pure love,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And love will not be deterred.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Love will not rest while the<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Beloved groans in chains they cannot break.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">So He came.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Laying down all His glory, He came.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Becoming one of us, opening Himself<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Up to the suffering we face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">That He might love us, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And give us hearts to love Him back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">So Christmas is still here,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The morning still comes,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Though it may look nothing like we<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Once had hoped,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Hope still lives,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Because Christ still lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And here after the manger<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And after the Cross,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">We wait with longing in the “not yet”,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">To see the “yes” to every promise He has made.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Even as we ache, we can wait with full hearts,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Because we have seen and tasted Love Incarnate<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Because He came, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And He comes again,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Not as a babe but as a beautiful King,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Who sustains galaxies with His words,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Who is redeeming all things even in this moment, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When we can’t see it yet,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And who will make everything right <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">and better than we can ever understand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">‘Til then, we wait with hope,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Even though tonight that first Christmas seems a universe
away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Because Love has come and Love will return,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And Christmas is real here- <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">because Jesus came. </span></div>
Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-44430850236061569682013-09-26T20:39:00.000-04:002013-09-26T20:39:19.786-04:00Lift your drooping hands, love.<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It's not about us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We forget.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">If you think we don't, I would ask you to ask yourself: do we feel as though we get to choose who we love?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Because Jesus didn't do that. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus didn't walk around, secure in his Father's love, love a select few, and dismiss the rest.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">He died for the ones who were dead in love with themselves. And he breathed life into our empty chests and taught us how to love by experiencing the way he loves us. He called us his own and promised to always be loving us, every moment from the moment we first breathed until forever. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">And why I'm sitting here writing about this instead of out there living it, I don't know.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Yes I do: it's called fear. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I don't trust Him to come through, and my love has grown so cold. I don't know when it happened or how it happened, but here I am, somehow thinking I get to choose who I love and who I don't. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Like I earned this or something. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">But you can't earn grace. It's poured out freely, a gift given. He didn't spare any expense in His quest to have us; He didn't try an easier way or give less to begin with. He sacrificed what was most precious to Him. Because that's what love does. We know that, deep down, don't we? Love gives whatever is required for the good of the beloved. It's the theme of our favorite love stories, the real life heroes that break our hearts; when a man dies for the woman he loves, we hold it up as a beautiful ideal. It is the nature of true love to pour itself out.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus did that. Literally and sacrificially and willingly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Before we knew his name.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Who dies for someone who doesn't love them back?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>He did.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">And what if when he says follow me, he's asking us to do the same? Because he is. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">And I think for me that's why following Jesus is the hardest thing ever. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Because I'm selfish. And fearful. And I somehow forget that I had no part in this whole being rescued thing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I mean, I was dead and he brought me to life. It's not like I could control that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">But I wouldn't have stopped him. I wouldn't ever want to give up this life I've found, even when I forget that I wasn't the one who found it- it was given to me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Don't you want that to change the way you live? I do. And can't you see just the tiniest bit of how beautiful it could be if we <b>did</b> live that way?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">What if I believed him, that all he says is true, and lived like it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Even though I'm terrified, I know deep down I want love that gives everything away. I have tasted what this world has to offer, and it leaves me worn out, bitter, and empty, cold as stone. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">But You, Lord, give life. You have loved me my whole life, even when I fight you. And you promise that loving like you is what's best for me; otherwise You wouldn't call me to do it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So Jesus, teach me how to have love like that. Love that is thoughtless as to its own needs, trusting You to provide. Love that doesn't discriminate or play favorites. Love that is radical and real and doesn't care who is or isn't watching. And love that will give everything away because it understands that everything it has is grace, and grace is meant to be poured out. Because <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2TxahqbSbU" target="_blank">real love is not afraid to bleed.</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I can't fix my own heart. I cannot "get over" my own selfishness. I'm forever broken without You. I am not there yet, but you are faithful and you will be faithful to teach me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">And.....help me to remember that you teach not with words, but with life. Give me grace to choose to love, to embrace every chance that comes, and let those actions form that love in me. Forgive me for all the times I've held back, all the times I've chosen my ways over Yours.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus, you are <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GP_tNd-Di4g" target="_blank">worth it all</a>.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; line-height: 22px; text-indent: 25px;">Therefore </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; line-height: 22px; text-indent: 25px;">lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees,</span><span style="font: inherit;"><a alt="esv_01" class="va" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3346402329020875451" rel="v58012013" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font: inherit; line-height: 22px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-indent: 25px; vertical-align: baseline;"></a></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; line-height: 22px; text-indent: 25px;">and </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; line-height: 22px; text-indent: 25px;">make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; line-height: 22px; text-indent: 25px;">but rather be healed.</span><span class="extra_text" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #363030; font: inherit; line-height: 22px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-indent: 25px; vertical-align: baseline;"> (Hebrews 12:12-13, ESV) (really, <a href="http://www.esvbible.org/Hebrews+12/" target="_blank">the whole chapter</a> is incredible)</span> </span></blockquote>
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Friends, if He has you pondering this like He has me doing, this is literally the list my iPod is playing...on shuffle. He endlessly loves. A few were included above, but since this set was speaking to me I thought I'd share it with you too. Feel free to listen to any or all of it, and continue this conversation with Him. Praying for your hearts.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HnJyttdde9Y" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The Time In Between- Francesca Battistelli</span></a></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JIMt-omB8Ck" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Slumber- Needtobreathe</span></a></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GP_tNd-Di4g" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Worth It All- Meredith Andrews</span></a></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2TxahqbSbU" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The Cost- Rend Collective Experiment</span></a></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_dohj2QAdzs" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Reign In Us- Starfield</span></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6cd8CklyCXs" target="_blank">Kingdom of Heaven- Jenny & Tyler</a>, the live version, because it's soooo good. If you don't care to hear the story of the song, just skip to about 1:12. </span></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XoFUhCjnJk" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Sara Groves- Open My Hands</span></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PD14sIrLiI8" target="_blank">Let It All Out- Relient K</a> (my song for weeks now).</span></div>
Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-11241971885379122062013-09-13T01:14:00.003-04:002013-09-15T00:19:33.365-04:00Walking through the desert<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I had texted her in a moment of weariness, walking to class.
I’m still not exactly sure why I did except I had decided to be real. Sunday
night I realized I wasn’t ok after all. These weeks have been hard. I was
feeling the weight during this long day of this long week, and she had said to
text her anytime, so I did.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“What I need more than anything else (with sleep at 2<sup>nd</sup> place and
people to actually do life with, people who are pouring into me at 3<sup>rd</sup>)
is Him. I’m so dry and I don’t even desire Him right now. Like, I want Him
maybe, but I want so much else more. That’s me being honest. And I’m so weary
that I don’t have the energy to fight through to get to him. And I know in my
head He can find me where I’m at. That He’s here. But I am not reaching. I’m just
worn. And thin. Thin is a perfect word. “</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When I got out of class, I had to rush across campus to my next class. This is
always a brisk walk to make it in time, but today I had a project due. Oh yeah,
and it started pouring about 10 minutes before my class had ended. Rushing
across campus in the downpour? I suppose so. I didn’t have time to wait. Another
girl from class and I ended up walking next to each other, keeping each other
company as we hurried across campus, getting soaked to the skin. We were laughing
because it was just such an awkward situation for everyone. I can’t explain it.
We were walking through water up to our ankles (cause even the ground wasn’t
ready for that rain), and laughing, because it was so ridiculous. What else was
there to do?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We parted ways and I walked up to the building right as it stops raining (don’t
worry, I made it on time). After class, I pull out my phone. And that’s when I
read it, hours after it was sent:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“….it is okay to be in that place. God knows that you’re tired and that you
care. Give yourself some space to rest and just be. Being dry is not pleasant,
but it can be a blessing when we discover how God’s love comes through for us
in that desert place. I am praying for you and will be asking for His buckets
of living water to be poured out on you.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Did you hear it? It took me a minute, and then that phrase sunk in: “His
buckets of living water to be poured out on you.” And I’m standing there
soaking wet. You can call it coincidence. But I don’t believe in those anymore.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What I realized in that moment is for a few minutes today, I [dry, bone-weary,
stretched thin, sick, sleep-deprived and overwhelmed] laughed as I rushed
headlong through a storm I couldn’t escape. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“We discover how God’s love comes through
for us in that desert place.”</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Historically, God has done great, beautiful works in deserts. It seems so odd
to me. And I’m not just talking about manna and quail and water from rocks
[provision]. I’m talking about the cloud and pillar of fire, where He came to
be with His people [His presence and guidance]. He speaks of winning Israel
back by saying He will “lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her
there (Hosea 2:14).” His desert is a place where Israel raged against Him over
and over, grumbling against Him, worshipping idols, letting their hearts wander
far from the good God who had loved them and rescued them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yet His desert is a place where He shows up and kindles a new fire in His
people for Him and only Him. Everything else that would satisfy them is
stripped away from them, and they come to know that all they think will satisfy
them is nothing, worthless if they don’t have Him. And they never needed it
anyway. Because what they crave, what they cry out for deeper than anything
else, is all of Him. All the goodness they think they’ll find in love or
prosperity or a good name or even the food to get them through the day…nothing
lasts. And when it fails, it’s like bread that turns to ash in your mouth. It
leaves you bitter. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I’ve been that way. Caught up in this life, chasing after what won’t fill me up
and only leaves me wanting more. Story of my life. The story of this season is
a little different. I’ve been trying to live out of my strength, not His. I’ve
been trying to do it all, rise to every occasion, not seeking His heart or His
face, letting Him get crowded out. I’ve created my own desert. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But He is still the God who is faithful in deserts, even when His people are
faithless. Hallelujah. And hallelujah, we don’t have to fight our way back or
find our way home. The point of the Cross is that we couldn’t get home on our
own. And so He came to us in our deserts and showed us the way: give up
control. Trust Him, follow the One who makes ways and rivers in the desert
(Isaiah 43:19), that He’s always, always leading us home. And even if it takes
us 40 years to get there, He doesn’t ever ever let us go; even when we’re not
reaching for Him, He’s holding us.</span><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He gives goodness here, in the weariness, the wondering, the
waiting, the stress, the pain, the tension of this life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It’s Himself. He’s the treasure in the desert. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh Lord, help me seek—and find You. Help me remember nothing else matters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-38419463502801128772013-06-10T02:16:00.001-04:002013-06-10T02:17:36.491-04:00Why? (Compassion)<br />
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">07. 07. 12: Somewhere in the moment when I realize that all I can do for you isn't enough,</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That I can't fix your problem, can't change the life you can't change either.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That you're stuck and there's so little I can do.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I look at you and there's nothing I can say; I can't even comfort you,</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because I don't speak your language. But I wonder, if I did, if the words would mean anything,</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or if they would be more for your sake, or mine.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Somewhere between the moment where I turn and walk away, cause you need too much,</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">More than I can give, and the moment where I turn around and look you in the eye. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I see you as a human, a heart, someone's child,</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and not a problem, a nuisance, or a discomfort to me;</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">somewhere in that moment where I teeter on the edge of a precipice,</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">terrified, yet ready to fall, ready to move, ready to bend and break and cry and actually</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">use this thing called a heart; when I'm brought to a point of laying </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">down my comfort for and trading any superiority for your survival…</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">somewhere in there is where I find that elusive character called compassion. That creature we talk about so much but rarely see. When was the last time it made an appearance? </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When did it last darken our doors? Darken? Yes, darken. We have not seen it in so many years </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">that we've forgotten what it looks like. We've changed it in our minds to this bright and airy thing,</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">full of light and joy. That is no compassion-only a lie we've created </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">because we're too scared to see the real thing. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For compassion, this thing we've watered down, is raw and real and wild and deep. It </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">sacrifices, it goes to great lengths, denies itself, defying self-centeredness; </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it kicks comfort in the face. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are unprepared for it, and truly, we don't want it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is hard, harder than we ever dreamed it'd be. So we traded the truth for a lie that we could stomach.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It costs little to give out of our abundance, our excess. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In fact, to give in that way keeps us from having to give anything at all; </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it keeps us from having to give of our hearts. To hurt with, to cry with, to sit in the dirt with. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is a cop out, a lie masquerading as truth. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is me still being self centered- giving as little as I can to make you go away, so you leave me to my comfort; patting myself on the back for throwing some change your way,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">when I've held back my heart and my arms from you. When I've kept humanity at bay by turning you into something to be kept at bay too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why? Why do I refuse to love you? Why do I close my heart when you walk up? Why to I cross my arms, begging inwardly for you to go away, just as you beg for me to look at you, to love you, to meet you where you are, face to face; to satisfy your pressing needs? Why do you make me so dang uncomfortable? Why do you bring out the worst in me?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because the truth is I care more about my comfort and my way of life than I do about your survival. I care more about my happiness than your health. I care more about my entertainment than I do about your hunger. I care more about my clothes than I do about your children. I care more about myself than I care about you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You scare me. And you make me uncomfortable. Your needs are too great, and my love too small. Your existence challenges my lifestyle. If I took you into account, I would have to rethink every decision I make. It's too much. The cost seems too great. The cost? For what? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My comfort, for your life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My pride, to love you as I would love myself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My haughty eyes for your full belly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My clean hands for your heart to know you're not alone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My fear & my discomfort, for your need. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You challenge me. You remind me that I don't live for myself. That I <i>can't </i>live for myself. You reach deep down to the core of my soul, and you touch something there, something my depraved heart forgets. Something that my selfish soul wants to forget so I can live as I please.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once upon a time, I <i>was</i> you. Worse, actually. In my pride and self sufficiency, I was blind to who I actually was. A beggar, longing to be filled. Seeking anything and everything from any who passed by. With grasping hands, my hungry heart sought sustenance. I was the one passed by, left in the cold, by those who considered themselves better. Eyes averted from my wretched state, hearts locked away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One saw me. One stopped. One reached out his hands. He gave me food, water, love, life. He came often, as I sat and begged. He sat with me. One day he asked if I wanted more than this. Of course you know my answer. He said it would mean leaving all I knew. I would have to give up my dreams of being seen, of being wanted, of being loved by those passerby. He would ask me to give up my seeking, but I would be satisfied. I would gain more than I ever dreamed. He could give it. And he would. He had one requirement, one thing to ask: "Follow me."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have been, these 10 years since. Sometimes I would find myself unsatisfied. Not because it wasn't offered, but because it didn't look like what I desired. So I would go back on the streets, begging again, thinking something had changed. He always knew where to find me, always came back for me, never let me go or gave up on me. He still doesn't, even though some days I still fight the urge. He fights with me. He tells me how much he loves me. How he treasures me. How he sees all I am, even if the world doesn't. How I'm his favorite, his beloved. He holds me tightly, gently, and when I seek from him, beg of <span style="text-decoration: underline;">him</span>-I am satisfied. His goodness overwhelms me. I don't deserve it. Not the slightest bit. I don't know what he sees. But still he stays. He fulfills all his promises. He forgives my faithlessness. He is faithful.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was you. But for grace, I would be there right next to you. HOW can I not love you? How can I not be to you as he has been to me? Have I learned nothing from him?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">O God, teach me Your ways, that I may bring Your name & Your heart glory. That they would see the love You have through what You've done for me, what You've made of me, what Your love has grown in me. Let me not forget where I was, who I was, when you called my name. Or even who I was yesterday. Your love knows no requirements, no boundaries, no limits, no conditions, no end. Pour it out through me. Let me only embrace as You embrace. Would You please give me eyes to see as You see? Let me give as You gave-that terrifies me, for You gave everything. But who am I to hold back? Who am I that I have any right to choose? Who am I that I deserve Your attention, Your affection? No one, nobody. Your Love is all that gives me worth. Your faithfulness makes me all I am. I have nothing to give, not to You, not to them. I am Yours, I am Yours, I am Yours. Move, love, seek, serve; live through me. I am wholly Yours. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(For the homeless of my city and the Roma of Europe.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Isaiah 58. Micah 6:8. Isaiah 61. Isaiah 29.</span></div>
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Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-9420611497426926192013-06-01T03:22:00.001-04:002013-06-01T03:23:05.957-04:00In Praise To The Giver (04. 19. 12)<br />
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I usually write prose these days- and LOVE it. But sometimes poetry still just overflows. It used to be a thing, haha. Just decided to post this on a whim because I'm feeling it again tonight. He is faithful! May mercy overwhelm us as it pours from His heart.</div>
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4/19/12 2:15 AM</div>
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Your grace has done me in.</div>
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How can I live for myself any longer,</div>
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when Your faithfulness flies in the face of all I've been?</div>
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How can You love me even as I pursue all that You've rescued me from, </div>
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even as I'm still in love with my sin?</div>
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But seeing all You've done, </div>
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I only want You more.</div>
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Where condemnation stood, mercy's breaking down my door.</div>
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Oh,You never let me go! </div>
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Your grace, it falls like rain, </div>
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Slowly, but surely I am changed</div>
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In the downpour of Your love.</div>
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Though I am faithless, You are faithful</div>
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Your heart is ever true.</div>
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Though I constantly forsake You, </div>
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Still You shower mercies new.</div>
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Though I can't ever repay You, </div>
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Though I take my life in my hands,</div>
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Still You keep all Your promises and You're faithful to Your plans!</div>
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Oh,You never let me go! </div>
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Your grace, it falls like rain, </div>
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Slowly, but surely I am changed</div>
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In the downpour of Your love.</div>
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As Your mercy reaches my heart </div>
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You're making ever new, </div>
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I'm overwhelmed by all You've done,</div>
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All You've brought me through.</div>
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You've paid the whole price needed</div>
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So I stand blameless in Your name,</div>
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Jesus, Your ways are infallible,</div>
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Your glory never fades!</div>
Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-72732328083233815852013-05-29T14:42:00.000-04:002013-05-29T14:42:00.374-04:00The House He's Building (04. 13. 12)<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(A year and a bit later, I'm thinking this is one of those lessons I'll be learning my whole life long.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Things are changing. Or maybe it's just me. No, I mean really <b>maybe it's just me. </b>Things are different. I've been hearing that I've changed since my life took a different turn in January-leaving my university, taking an unexpected semester off, living apart from my family, trying to be gone for most of the summer, and trying to figure out what next semester will look like. Or maybe it was even before then. All I know is tonight was different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ok, so...where do I even begin? I've been learning so much, yes. More, in a lot of ways, than I learned in my college career thus far. Within the classroom at least. But so much of what I have been learning comes down to these 3 things, which are all tied together in the end: </span></div>
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<li style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Seeing more (and maybe for the first time ever) how fully I am fallen. I basically suck. I suck at knowing how to handle life, suck at following through at what I know is right, and suck at…well everything. Finally truly realizing that I can never ever be good enough to win God's attention or affection. </span></li>
<li style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus. Do I have a relationship with Jesus or rules that 'prove' a relationship, as one man recently brought it into such clear perspective? Forget religion. Forget doing the right things because you "know you should." Because you're trying to impress the whole world, and you never ever will. But Jesus stands there saying to us, "Be with Me. Spend time with Me, and watch and see, I will change you. Trust Me. You become like what you behold. And everybody's worshipping something. Will <span style="text-decoration: underline;">you</span> let it be Me? I don't want to make you into the best version of yourself you can be. I want to make you <i>like Me</i>." They're completely different orders, completely different standards to attain. I can be a better version of me, maybe. But like God? Like the LORD who loves endlessly, is totally just, completely pure, <i>never falling or ever once failing? </i>Impossible.</span></li>
<li style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Grace. There is grace. There is grace enough for my failures. That I knew. There's grace to cover it, Jesus paid the debt. I am justified before God because of that. He doesn't see my sin. Yes, yes, yes. Like checking off a list, I got it. But I missed the whole point. It's like seeing it's raining but not seeing the purpose behind the rain-to bring growth, to make flowers bloom, to give water, to give life. </span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There is grace enough not only to cover me, but to <b>change</b> me. I don't have to fix myself. I don't need to. Here is the intersection: I am more screwed up than I ever would have dreamed before. There is Someone who loves me anyway. With Him, I am free to be myself-with all my failures, all my screwups, all my questions, raw emotions, and fears. He is not running and He is not leaving. He loves me. He is staying, for good. He died for me, once, long ago. And now He lives again. If He's done all of that for me, why would He ever abandon me now?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But the story isn't over! He is not only staying with me, but He is redeeming me. He is taking the broken parts, and there are many, and healing them. The twisted parts? He's like a blacksmith, heating them up, smoothing them out so they are right again-and useful. He even uses them! The dirty parts...He's not cleaning, but replacing. I didn't get it for so long. He's not patching me up--He is <b>making me over.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">C.S. Lewis says it like this:</span><blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He is making me a palace for Himself. That's why it's ok to be where I am-a sinful human being, who is so very much still trying to understand this way of life; who fails (sometimes in a very embarrassingly noticeable way) SO often, but is undeservedly adored anyway; a heart who looks to be fulfilled everywhere else except for that One who adores, though she has tasted and seen that nothing else satisfies. Because that is who I am. That is who I am today, tonight. That is who I will be tomorrow. But each day, each moment that I spend with Him...is the tiniest bit closer to being that castle, that masterpiece fashioned with such care that it essentially shouts of the love poured into it. It unintentionally yet plainly shows the time and effort it took to build. Because when you look at it, you don't just say it's beautiful. You exclaim over the workmanship, admiring the intricate carvings, the time it must have taken to carve them out and get each one just right. You ponder the cost of this castle home. You wonder who would build such a glorious place. You want to meet this builder, to ask him about these treasures it holds. For in seeing where he lives, this home he built with his own two hands, you're seeing a reflection of him. He did not only pour his time, effort, and resources into this place-in doing so he poured his heart and soul into it too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">His name is Jesus. I am the castle still being built. Right now I look a heck of a lot more like a bungalow than a palace. But He has the vision of what is to come. I'm His investment. He gave His whole life for me. And He has already paid <i>the entirety</i> of what it will cost to make me a palace for His possession. And so if my faucet starts to leak again, is He going to throw His hands up in despair, say He already fixed that once, get disgusted and leave? Of course not! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Perhaps this is where the castle-house metaphor ends. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All I know is today, after looking at how good Jesus is, and being challenged to follow Him and being reminded that nothing else satisfies, I found myself in a spot where I had two options: pursue Him at all costs, or do what I wanted which I KNEW wasn't beneficial, knew wasn't good for anything, but was just "what I wanted"-and for no plausible reason. The temptation wasn't that strong, but the more I looked at it, the better looking it got. But why did I begin to stare at it, to consider it? Why didn't I see it and run; why didn't I set the eyes of my heart back on Him?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I decided that He was not enough. He would not satisfy like x, y, or z. Those things were better than Jesus right now. They would bring more satisfaction. And so I chose to break what He had made over in me before. I decided I liked my dirty shack more than the palace He was building. It's sad, but it's true. The wonder is that when I finished throwing my fit and tearing apart the work He had done and found that getting what I had desired did not satisfy...He just whispered to my heart, "Darling, why did you think it would satisfy like <b>Me</b>?" Anything else is a substitute for the real deal. And a crappy one at that, to say the least. WHY would we want that? WHY would we want that when we could have HIM? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We may have lost the vision. And we certainly will along the way. The good news is He doesn't walk away. He is changing us, making us over, redeeming even the most termite-infested, mold-ridden parts of who we are. And He will not rest until He has finished the work He has already begun in those of us who have opened our hearts to Him. We are His treasure. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So open your doors. Throw open every window <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Hebrews%2012:1-2&version=NIV" target="_blank">(and throw off every sin that so easily entangles)</a>. Seek Him, His heart. SEE what He has done. Love Him for loving us. Be willing to be changed. And trust that HE will do the work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh yes. Things sure are changing around here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">04.13.12</span></div>
Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-86903550578925204402013-05-27T00:00:00.000-04:002013-05-27T02:14:18.728-04:00<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hi. I know, I know. It's been a really long time since I actually <i>wrote</i> something.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Well, that's only partially true. You see, I've been writing. I'm pretty sure that's something I can't actually stop doing anymore. But to be frank? I've been scared.</span><br />
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Pouring my heart out is still hard to do when I can't control who's going to see all the pieces, who's going to look inside. But I'm doing it. Because He's done so much, and while some of you have seen it, lived it with me, others of you have not. But it's worth telling. The things He's done are worth telling. </span><br />
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And that's what He's made pretty clear: The things He teaches me? They're not just for me, just about me. They're for you who despair, you who are tired of working and striving and trying to be good enough. They're for you, yes, you there, whose heart needs a lift. They're for you who think you've run out of grace, cause you've gone too far and been away from home too long. They're for those of us who like to think that we have it pretty together. For those of us who think we've got this follow Jesus thing preeeetty figured out. And maybe you do. Maybe you've already learned these lessons. Who am I to know? All I know is this: they're for each of us who need to be reminded that He is good. He's not done. He hasn't stopped or left us alone to fend for ourselves. And He will finish what He's started in us. He will. He is bringing us home. And making us like Him in the process. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All this is to give you an intro: over the next few weeks I will be starting to post things that have been written over the last year or so. Things I'm ready to share. And hopefully, as I continue on this journey, I can share things with you when they're a bit, um, fresher. :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Come, friends, let's move <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mZzLEnxq9Oo" target="_blank">further up and further in</a>-- together.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">"Come further up, come further in!" </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">― </span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1069006.C_S_Lewis" style="background-color: white; color: #666600; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">C.S. Lewis</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">, </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1059917" style="color: #666600; text-decoration: none;">The Last Battle</a></i></span>
Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-80515775392295326372013-04-08T13:48:00.001-04:002016-03-06T22:04:55.945-05:00Don't forget there's more than this...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Gungor before they were Gungor.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Their most underrated song. It's amazing. And real. And raw. And so very true.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">His Bride is still alive.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">{Hallelujah}</span></div>
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Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-36803389318119274762012-08-10T19:37:00.006-04:002013-09-13T01:59:53.012-04:00The last 8 months...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That whole, "I'll write soon" thing? Yeah, I'm sorry. Truly. I have been writing. A lot. But not here. I haven't been ready to let it all show. Being vulnerable about it all is harder than I used to think. But it's coming. There's a lot to post now. :)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So life update, to begin (the shortest version ever):</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">January: left my university, not knowing what I needed to do, but knowing I needed to go. And it was such an act of God. Seriously. If you've met my parents, you understand. Moved in with a new friend, had amazing adventures & support raised for a summer trip to Eastern Europe, to work with a humanitarian organization there.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In this time, I also learned so much about the true nature of the Gospel that I questioned whether I had ever known it before or not. Seriously. Scary and insane...and needed. He's so faithful to never ever leave us or let us go, even when we deserve it. Or when we're faithless. Or when we don't understand. He stays and He loves and He never ever leaves us where He found us. He keeps growing us. That's grace.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I've been home about a week and a half from spending 2 months in a small town in Eastern Europe. A town where most of the population was Muslim (some in the same way that most of America is "Christian"). I loved it there so much. I just loved living it there in a way I never expected to. I met incredible people there. I miss them. I miss it. And honestly, while God did a lot there this summer, I know that from where I stand, the most He did was in me. He took a lot of things He'd been telling me and brought them full circle. He started some new things too. I'm praying they continue here, on this side of the world, as a new season begins.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">August: new school, new major, new living situation. Kind of a new city. It's gonna be insane. I want Him to do all the things that He wants to do. I also know I'm gonna fight Him at times. Realized that when I got home from 2 months of learning and growing with Him, after the 6 months He'd already been doing that since January, and spent everything since the first 3 days fighting old sin patterns I haven't dealt with in such an intense way since LAST summer. Oh, heart. Sometimes it seems like things never change.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But I know He's not done. Not even close. And I'm having to remember this is about Him, not me. All of this. This new season, new school, my two months abroad, everything. My life. It's His. not mine. Oh, let it be so. It's gonna be insanely hard. Yet He is faithful.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I guess I'm learning to embrace the messiness of life after all. After all these years. There's this new song I heard just today, called "Don't Stop The Madness" by Tenth Avenue North.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Don't stop the madness, don't stop the chaos, don't stop the pain surrounding me.</span></blockquote>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> And don't be afraid, Lord, to break my heart, if it brings me down to my knees."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My fearful heart cries out to say the same. It describes the last 8 months. I've been there some days. Today, I'm dry and empty, cause I haven't been believing He's more than what I have, that He's worth seeking. I have so much to learn, this little heart and I. But looking back across the last year, I can't believe how far He's taken me. Even me. The foolish, the prideful, the self-sufficient. He's everything I've ever needed and never deserved.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Father, keep bringing this little heart to life. Keep laying claim to everything I am. One day I will be all Yours.</span>Ashelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13975779393477867173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-24624778985939237382012-01-17T03:29:00.006-05:002012-01-17T03:40:41.629-05:00Turning Page.<span style="font-size: large;">Glimpses of His heart <span style="font-size: x-large;">=</span>beautiful. And mind blowing. And challenging. And scary as hell. Like, seriously-sometimes He freaks me out so much I want to run in the opposite direction! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Then I remember His goodness, His faithfulness, all He has done and all He has promised. And then I know I will be safe. Not the kind of safe that implies comfort or simplicity or ease. Life. is. <i>messy</i>. Jesus got down and dirty in the mixed up muddles of humanity. And thus, I am called to as well. The term "Christian" means "little Christ", though sometimes we forget. So yeah. Jesus did<span style="font-size: x-large;">=</span>I do. </span><br />
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This safety is a different kind. It means covered<span style="font-size: x-large;">;</span> protected<span style="font-size: x-large;">; </span>secure<span style="font-size: x-large;">;</span> loved. It means He knows what He is doing. It means the outcome doesn't rely on me. His kind of safety is "I AM big enough for this." "I AM faithful." "I AM the Love you can't even dream of being to these broken people." He protects. He leads. He provides. <br />
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I am leaving the kind of comfort and security that I have known. My life right now is not exactly stable. But it is secure-because my life isn't where I live or what I'm doing with my time, or even <b>where</b> I am spending it. My life is staked on the LORD of the Bible, the One who leads His people to oceans and leads them through on dry ground, surrounded by walls of water on every side; the One who tells old men and women that they're gonna be the parents of a nation whose citizens outnumber the stars; the One who tells a man to take a prostitute for a wife to tell a people of His love; the One who circumnavigates nature to bring His Son to Earth to redeem a people who have not loved Him; and defies the grave, bringing LIFE where death had ruled unrelenting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He calls Himself "I AM." And I'm taking that as a promise. Because, ironically timed enough, my life changes tomorrow. A new chapter begins. I'm praying it's less of a season and more like a lifestyle. A lifestyle defined by the fact that HE IS. So there is no need for guilt or condemnation, fear or judgement, worrying or stress. Heck yes, they're gonna happen, because I do not remember the truth of all He is in each moment as clearly as I am tonight. But He is big enough for that too. There are gonna be tears, I am sure. There will be times I wonder what He and I were thinking, where I long for what was, where I am terrified of what He is asking of me. Because I cannot do it; it will require <u>Him</u>. It will take His strength, His grace, His love, His heart. And as scary as that sounds, there's so much freedom to be found in it-in being so lost and out of our league that He shines so brightly, cause it would take a God to do what is being done. That life doesn't rely on me after all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He says, "To hold on to your life is to lose it; give up your life, and you'll find it in Me." "Trust Me, I will not fail you." <span style="font-size: x-large;">"<b>Follow Me.</b>"</span></span><br />
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It's gonna be an adventure. Life: unscripted, unpolished, uncomfortable. Learning to rely on His strength, His grace for this world, and His heart toward each of us.<br />
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{If you're utterly confused, I promise I'll explain very soon why I haven't written in more than a month (good reason, I promise!) i.e.-<u>what's been going on.</u> Fun story. Kindof. I love you all, I'll see you around!}</span><br />
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</span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-18712352428640045522011-12-16T17:04:00.017-05:002011-12-20T00:42:31.481-05:00<span style="font-size: large;">Where do you call home?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's funny...for me, it is here. In this city I am just beginning to discover. In my heart, it is already mine. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I love it. It has so many issues, so many things that need to be reconciled...but it is mine.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I want to be a part of the reconciliation, of bringing justice and equality. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Inequality criss-crosses the city like chasms created by earthquakes. In the light of the richest of the rich, often the poor go unseen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Open my eyes. </b></i><i><b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Hopelessness hangs like smog over the parts of town no one wants to remember.</span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Teach me how to carry Your name there.</span></i></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The haves and the have-nots. The satisfied and the hungry. The queen size beds and the park benches-or corners of the sidewalk. The forever grasping, who spend their days chasing their latest fix, longing to fill the emptiness that lurks in the recesses of their silent nights- and the forever unsatisfied who are just as empty, only you can see it. We are all here. Together in this city. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Why are we not out there? Why am<b> I </b>not out there?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Because I am afraid. I am afraid. I am afraid of having to face the kind of pain that ravages this city while we turn a blind eye, comfortable in our <u>ignor</u>-ance. If we wanted to, we would see. The haunted eyes. The bone-weary souls. The hunger that is never filled. But I am afraid. I am afraid breaking the status quo <i>too</i> much. I am afraid of how it will hurt. I would rather protect my heart. I keep being reminded recently that it is easy to give of our words (what do they mean without actions, anyway?), our money (because there's more where that came from), our stuff (because we have so much it doesn't matter) our "good intentions" (which are truly nothing at all)- but it is hard to give of <u>ourselves</u>. We only have one heart. And with that heart, we are to live our lives. And so if what we call <a href="http://goinswriter.com/cost-of-compassion/" target="_blank">compassion</a> doesn't hurt-I'm realizing that <i>it's empty. </i></span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am afraid. And I don't want to be. I wish I was brave, I wish I was strong...but I am not. I am not. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am not enough for this. I never will be. I am clueless as to help, what to do, how to deal with the brokenness that surrounds me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Because the truth is it takes a God to mend broken hearts. It takes a God to love recklessly, give endlessly. It takes a God to reconcile the irreconcilable. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">His name is Yahweh. I am not Him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But He is in me. He is with me. And I'm praying that day by day, He will teach me how to lay myself down on His altar and die, so He can be what I am not. So He can change this city through the hands that are here-my hands.</span><br />
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</span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-7617469583606390282011-12-14T00:57:00.001-05:002011-12-14T11:24:49.406-05:00The Value of Music?<span style="font-size: large;">It's Tuesday night (errr, early Wednesday morning) and I'm studying for my astronomy final exam in less than 9 hours, listening to Spotify (which I just started using less than 3 days ago, basically) , checkin' Facebook- you know how it goes, college friends. In all of this, I discovered this little article posted by a friend of mine, about the value of music in our culture. I found it quite intriguing. The question is, as a culture: <a href="http://nsfreepress.com/story/music-devalued" target="_blank">how much do we value art today?</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I should go study, but I have a feeling I will be getting back to this. It's certainly sparked some curiosity in my mind.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So-what are your thoughts? How do you feel about art? Is each piece unique and valuable to you personally, or part of the scenery that surrounds us, like wallpaper-pretty but just there? Do you think about often what goes into the making of the art you enjoy? What about the relationship as a consumer/customer with the artist? What should that look like?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I look forward to your thoughts, friends! Until later....surviving 'til noon is the goal.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">(And by the way....I might be done with Spotify. Or re-purposing it. Still thinking.)</span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-47798564224474528422011-12-07T18:52:00.000-05:002011-12-20T00:42:31.481-05:00"Three Things I Know to Be True"<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://goinswriter.com/three-things/">Three Things I Know to Be True | Jeff Goins</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I love this. It reminds me that life is hard and it hurts, but it is </span><span style="font-size: large; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">worth it. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Take a look.</i></b></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />
</span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-32761424542805449242011-12-05T20:06:00.000-05:002011-12-05T20:06:25.003-05:00Fragrant.<blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: large;">But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of Him everywhere. For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life. Who is sufficient for these things? For we are not, like so many, peddlers of God's word, but as men of sincerity, as commissioned by God, in the sight of God we speak Christ.</span></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> 2 Corinthians 2: 14-17</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.</span></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Ephesians 5:1-2</span></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-32725095164615090722011-12-05T15:15:00.000-05:002011-12-05T15:21:43.562-05:00I have loved you from the start.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/ptqTZSUt56E?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><span style="font-size: large;">Husband-wife duo. Beautiful.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">From Dad's heart to ours. He relentlessly pursues. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">{Oh love that will not let me go.}</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Hear my song for you-I will not hold my tongue. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Open your heart, open your heart-for I have loved you from the start."</i></span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-12454539434716297972011-12-01T22:03:00.001-05:002011-12-20T00:42:31.482-05:00...and how can I stand here with You, and not be moved by You?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-size: large;">I saw this years ago...and it left me speechless. I can't explain what it is about it. All I know is every time I watch it, I still get teary eyed. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Plus, there aren't words for how I feel about this song.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/cyheJ480LYA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><span style="font-size: large;">Even today, I got distracted from Him. My focus turned to my past, and my heart began to ache. Suddenly , I realized I was looking at other things more than Him. Things that never last, never satisfy. {Oh little heart, when will you learn?} I needed to be reminded. I found this song that's helped stir my heart in its coldest season.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There were still tears in my eyes. I love Him. He is beyond faithful. And He is enough. Even when we don't believe it. He is Restorer, Sustainer, Redeemer, Faithful, Loving, Almighty, Beautiful, Worthy. He is hope, love, justice, peace, and joy all in one. He is God. He is Life. He is Good, the only good. He is Faithful. He is Everything.</span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346402329020875451.post-18616698363721634212011-11-29T01:07:00.000-05:002011-11-29T02:14:08.373-05:00Redefining the "L" Word<span style="font-size: large;">The truth? I don't like 4 letter words. Not a fan. You know the kind I mean.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But tonight I realized that the most used/abused 4 letter word is not the one you would expect:</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Love.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-size: large;">It is said to friends in passing. People fall into it and out of it on a seemingly constant basis. We love this song and our family and that girl/guy we're interested in and our car and God and so many other things. Personally, I say it too often. I know it. And I am realizing more and more that I have NO idea what it means. Or at least, that our usage of it does not reflect its true purpose. Am I the only one who feels that way? Maybe not. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I don't know what it looks like here in this world of ours...all I know is it is more than most of what I see.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Love is not happy feelings and butterflies. Love is not that electrifying feeling you get when you kiss your significant other, or the warm safeness of holding their hand. It is not even wanting to be with someone every moment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">All of those things die. They do not last forever. They are fleeting and futile, if they are the goal. Because they are only shadows of the true thing, of real <i>love</i>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I cannot paint a full portrait of it- this thing, this <i>love</i>. It sits just out of my reach, just beyond my line of sight. I can almost see it, almost grasp it, and then it eludes me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here is what I <u>do</u> know, what I can see:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe love can never be fully defined, because it changes day by day, moment by moment. It is constantly re-evaluating and seeking what is the absolute best for the beloved. It is sacrificing. Constantly. Day in and day out. It is most assuredly more than that, but it can never be anything less. Don't cheapen it. Don't water it down so it can be sold for less- so it is easier to handle, to swallow, less painful, less terrifying. <i>It is all of those and more.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes love means being there when you don't want to. Sometimes love means putting aside your hurt and pain and giving again to that person who has hurt you. Not expecting, not anticipating any kind of repayment down the road. Sometimes love means telling the hard truth. Love is discomfort. Love is willingly choosing to put someone else ahead of myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes love looks like holding them while they cry. Sometimes love looks like holding their hand, not having words, because there just aren't words that do justice to the pain in their hearts, and you don't know words to heal either. Sometimes love looks like whispering in their ear, when they have forgotten who they are, reminding them. Sometimes love looks like sitting in the ashes together when everything has fallen apart. Sometimes it is weeping, because<i> they</i> weep. Love means entering into the pain of another, engaging hard questions that you may not have the answers for-<u>but staying anyway</u>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes love is holding on when all you wanna do is give up-when your hands are cramping, tears are rolling down your face, and your heart feels like it might physically be falling apart. Sometimes love is taking a breath, opening your white-knuckle fists, and letting go-because that is what is best for the beloved. Because what is best for them may not be you. Or because they are not, maybe were not ever, yours to hold. Love is not ownership. Nor is it a list of obligations to fulfill.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Love takes courage. Because to love is to<i> die</i>. To willingly give up my rights to better someone else. That's why it has to run both ways to be healthy in this world. Because it is bending, bowing to one another's needs above our own. Love in essence means giving up my rights. My rights to what I need, what I want, how I like things done. It means giving up my plans (and very possibly more-maybe even my hopes and dreams), to be and do what is best for the beloved. It is a constant placing first of their interests, their hearts, their good above my interests, my heart, my own good, my own success. The failure of the beloved is my failure. The success of the beloved is my success.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That list is terrifying. It means giving up your life.</span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>How many kings stepped down from their thrones;</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>How many lords have abandoned their homes;</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>How many greats have become the least for me?</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>How many gods have poured out their hearts,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>To romance a world that is torn all apart;</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>How many Fathers gave up their Sons for me?</i></span></blockquote><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It's like He stepped out of the shadows. It is Him! It is Jesus. He <b><i>is </i></b>Love. He gave up everything for me, and gave me the freedom to see His love and still walk away. He is the example, the epitome of love. <i>True</i> love.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">He died for my benefit, for my freedom from guilt, sin, and shame-from everything that held me, chained. He loved me enough for that. And still is loving me like that. Even now, in giving me questions, in putting me in places to remind me--there is NO love possible outside of him. He is the Author of Life, and of Love. </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: large;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-26700">12</sup></span><span class="woj" style="font-size: large;"> This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-26701">13</sup></span><span class="woj" style="font-size: large;">Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:12-13)</span></blockquote><span style="font-size: large;">Whoa. Ummm...but-Jesus, you're <i>You</i>. And I'm...<u>me</u>. There's kind of a big difference in those two. Like, everything. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"But He said to me,</span><span class="woj" style="font-size: large;"> "My grace is sufficient for you, for<sup> </sup>My power is made perfect in weakness."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">(2 Corinthians 12:9a)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">He reminds us often that He is with us, and for us. His Spirit is in us.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: large;">2 Timothy 1:7- For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of <u>love</u> and of self-discipline.</span></blockquote><span style="font-size: large;">He is Love. He is with us; He has given us His Spirit. He calls us to love like Him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">What would life look like if we did? How different would this world be?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I think I needed to be reminded. Of everything. To live love is to live out His life in us. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">*Let me be clear: this is the bar, which I fall <b>SO</b> short of so often. This is what His love looks like, not mine. And what love that is rooted deeply in Him, grown over years and years looks like, though it will always be imperfect too. But with each passing day, week, month, and year, I hope He teaches me more of it. Because as scary as love is, it is beautiful. And worth it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0