Where Once Was Darkness...

I hate waking up before the sun. It's seven o' clock in the morning here, Christmas Day. The sky is dark grey and cloudy- no star could be seen here. Even the white of the snow on the ground fails to truly relieve the darkness of the world. Gusts of wind shake not only the trees outside, but our entire house. It sounds cruel out there. On this of all days, I am reminded that we have an adversary who seeks us; prowls around like a roaring lion. He has no need of sleep and can go anywhere that pleases him. He pliantly searches out all of our fears and weaknesses- he brings the worst of us out into the open and attempts to exploit it for his own purposes. He wants to bring us down with him- and he knows his time is short.

He knows what his future is; he can constantly see God's wrath and a lake of fire before his eyes. And he knows what our future could be- in the presence of the Almighty and Everlasting God, where he can never again enter.

The thing about this darkness outside is that, in about an hour or so, the sun will break it. Its full radiance may not break through the dark barrier of these storm clouds, but it will become light outside. And on this of all days, the light will again shine on the deeds of men. It's important to remember, here in the darkness- where despair so easily engulfs, where the wind howls, and the heart within you shrinks with fear: the debt has been paid, the gulf has been bridged, and the battle for our souls- won. Jesus, whose birth we celebrate this day, came to the earth. Fully God, yet born a man- to live as one of us, to be a witness to the actions of the adversary on earth, to teach and to assist, to die, horribly, and finally to rise again from the grave- thereby becoming our hope fulfilled.

So in the darkness, in the utter despair that sometimes seems to be our world in this time before the second coming, it is so important for us to believe,

There shone a Great Light.

During the Miserable.

What to say, what to say, what to say. I've never felt less in control. I've never felt so completely unable to step back. I'm scared. I'm afraid this boy is going to break my heart. I'm scared of how much I want to be around him. I've never been this girl. Never. You know, except when I was little and my mom or dad went away and I slept with some article of their clothing that smelled like them. But that's legitimate. That's an okay thing to do. Crying because he hasn't called me? When his phone is broken? Come on now. I understand that its more like one barely shed tear and not really crying, but this is ridiculous. For the sake of my sanity and self-respect thank goodness Christmas break is coming up. At least I'll have time away from him to get a grip on myself and figure out what I really feel and/or need.

Because what I feel now is ridiculous. What is this contentedness when we hold hands and talk to our friends during lunch? What is this happiness from when he tells me I'm beautiful? What is the tinge of sadness when we say goodbye, even for only a few hours? It's ridiculous. I never wanted any one person to have this much effect on me. I feel like I'm not sure how to breathe sometimes. Almost like I forget or something. He believes in me.

This is difficult. It's hard for me to put it into words. I think that the point of a relationship is -- AH! I don't want to go there right now. I don't want that far into the future because we can't see the future- we don't know what's there. In the end, life doesn't really matter that much, because our afterlife is sealed with the blood of Christ. Sealed. I know what the end is. But I wonder if the journey is going to break me.
What an emo. Come on now. ... I guess as long as I'm being emo, I might as well go write about the Sophists... because, hey, I'm not having a good time anyways. Might as well get papers done during the miserable.

Questions of Revelations

Every scar has a story. I'm looking at the one on the ankle bone of my right leg. It's about an inch long and still red. It's barely finished healing and I got it shaving back at the beginning of September, the day I went with Andrew, Cameron and Patrick to see Phantom of the Opera. It took most of the day to stop bleeding; I actually had to wrap it to keep pressure on it. I was nervous. And, in truth, every time since then that I've gone to shave that part of my leg, I get nervous again. Nervous because of the pain- nervous to get hurt again.

Some scars you can't see. You don't even know they are there in yourself or another person until something similarly sharp comes near the area that holds that scar. Then you catch the flinch. That quick closure of the eyelids combined with the slight movement backwards. It might be because of someone else's actions- or your own, but it doesn't really matter. You're still scarred.

The only thing that it seems that you can do is own your scars. Find them, and know them for your own. Every scar is a lesson. Every scar is a moment in time when you learned, when I learned, that some actions are incorrect and cause pain.

I was listening to Colbie Calliat's newest CD, Breakthrough, and the song called Fearless. Some of the lyrics of the song say, "I'm fearless...If it's between loving and losing or to never have known the feeling, then I still side with love. And if I end up lonely, at least I will be there knowing: I believed in love."

I'm not fearless. God has been doing His work in my heart; teaching me to trust again after I wasn't careful enough and fell. I'm scared that any step out in faith will ruin all the progress made, but isn't that the actual opposite? Isn't the truth that if I don't do anything with what I've learned, it is meaningless?

I think I trust you. I want so badly to know if I actually can. Or I want to find out if that matters- if I don't have the choice; if my heart has already made that decision for me. I'm not going to turn my whole being to orient myself around you. I'm not going to make plans about the future based on what you hope to be doing. I'm not going to be crazy and analyze every detail about what you say or do. But I'm going to trust you. I'm going to trust that what you say, you mean. I'm going to believe you're being straightforward with me. I'll look forward to seeing you, but I won't hinge the happiness of my entire day on it. I'm not going to give you my heart yet, either. So I won't ask you not to break that. I'll ask you not to break my trust.

Fight. Hope. Pray.

I did the right thing. I did the right thing. Forget you, depression! Forget you annoying listless pain that has me crumpled. FORGET YOU! I did the right thing! I saw the verses, I remembered the lessons I'd already learned, and I acted the way I believed I should. I shouldn't feel like I'm dying! Proverbs 19:2- Desire without knowledge is not good, and whoever makes haste with his feet misses his way. 1 Corinthians 10:13- No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation He will also provide a way of excape, that you may be able to endure it. 1 Corinthians 13:4-7- Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. IT does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
I don't know what tomorrow is going to bring. I'm sure of next to nothing right now, except that my God is good, and that He has ordained my path. I know that I'm hurting right now- I'm upset that both paths hurt. The path where you give in and run towards the thing you want, and the one where you step back and say you need time. "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth. Then took the other as just as fair and having perhaps the better claim because it was grassy and wanted wear though as for that the passing there had worn them really about the same." This does not have to be so dramatic. I just can't live through the same kind of thing as those last months of high school again. My soul can't survive that kind of disobedience and pain again. I wish that some decisions were more clear-cut, more obvious. I wish I wasn't second-guessing myself. I wish I were a stronger, wiser, better, person.
What's sad is that I am more of all of those things since the last time I came up against this. God has brought me so far- and I've heard righteousness is it's own reward, but I don't think of myself, ever, as righteous. Right now I feel sick. I don't want to do anything, except sprint- feel the perfect rolling stride across the pavement, taking me further and further from problems, but that isn't an real solution. That's just running away.
And I'm not about running away. I'm not about rushing in where angels fear to tread. I'm going to stand my ground and fight.
And hope. Pray I did the right thing.

What About Romans?

Reckless. What does that even mean? Where does it come from? Old English, apparently. Given to unthinking boldness. That sounds just about perfect. I just want to go out into the darkness, walk any direction. Just me and my Chucks against the pavement, striding to who knows where and getting there by the second. Let last night's soundtrack play in my mind as I pace out the new dimensions of my world. I do not want it to be small. I don't have all the answers I want. I will not plunge headlong into this without guidance. I will not run towards something that could hurt me, or someone else, as badly as I know that it could. I remember that pain. I remember drowning in it, as someone would in mud- not even able to struggle to regain some measure of light or the faintest taste of sunshiney air. I remember that place. I also remember the One who took me from it, cleaned off the evidence of my mistakes, and showed me how to breathe again. How to fight again. I will not run back to that place.
Even though this one seems different. This one feels... cautious. Has the warmth of kindness. Might actually like me for who I am, not what I possess. But, I can't tell for sure. How could I? AH! Insert scream of frustration, which was actually more like a sigh. Who cares about encircling arms, beautiful hands and eyes, soft and affectionate whispers? Who cares about feeling protected by a human being? I can lie to myself and say that none of that matters, but it would still be a lie.

Cautious. What does that word even mean? Prudently watchful in the face of danger or risk; the exercise of forethought usually prompted by fear of danger. Wow. Forethought. Romans. I should have known!

Suffocating and Lost

It's suffocating.
The problems I cause tumbling down on me,
or rather gathering together in my lungs-
I cannot breathe.
I cry and gasp a little-
bury my face in my pillow some more,
except there isn't really a pillow there,
it's just air.
A sob escapes just as the wind blows across my face
takes it away from me as soon as it's emitted.
I'm lost.
The decisions I've made leading me to this place
or rather things I decided not to decide still are a decison made
I cannot find my way.
My head whips around, searching,
the maze of this tall-grassed field,
except there isn't really grass here
it's just open space.
I'm suffocating on oxygen and I'm lost in free space.

Only because I walked away from my life Source.
Only because I'm a fall with a disease called sin.
It takes the form of pride, of bad decisions, of fear.
And I allow it to slay me when I don' t trust my God to be my everything.
I'm in a battle and I'm pretending that I'm safe.
What could possibly be more dangerous?

God, help me to see that I need to be close to You.
I need to worship You because You are worthy of all praise;
and because it's what I was made for.

The Bottom Line is Peace

It's past midnight, Michigan time. I'm listening to Sara Evans and we're on Severe Thunderstorm watch. I've got my eyes open. In more ways than one, I guess.

I think usually the times when we're most lost are those when we think we know what's going on. I don't think it can ever really be pounded into our heads enough that God's ways aren't our ways and we can never really comprehend the vastness of His plan.

I feel that recently I've cursed the fall more than usual. More than is probably healthy. Cursed the wickedness that is ingrained in me. Fretted about how amazingly difficult it is to do what I should. Wondered about the future and what it holds. Worried about how God will use me in the scheme of things to make His plan come about. Worried?! Why not felt the honor of the fact that God would possibly want to do that. Frail and fallible, but never forgotten.

And God still has Romans as an integral part of my life- so I know what to look out for at least... He sure makes some patterns abundantly clear.

I guess I'm just nervous because I believe everything that happens has reason behind it. There are no coincidences- no things that just happen. So, that should mean that my every tiny little action has an effect- what is that effect? Am I affecting people for good or for ill.

I pray so hard that it's for the good. That I don't mislead people- that somehow, by the grace of God, my life reflects the infinite mercy He has bestowed upon me, and the gift of joy and peace that has come from it.

"Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to make you stand in the presence of His glory blameless with great joy, to the only God our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen." Jude 24, 25.

Happy Place or Not, Praises.

There's a point, at the third day of rain and a week out of communication, that you find the grey sky and the fog to be an actual wall- barring sight, progress, hope. Depression seems to be settling on my skin like a sticky veil. Light, but present enough to be irritating. I can't find anything on earth strong enough to cleanse myself. How often that is true. I cannot find a way to put myself, or rather my heart, on a mountaintop or a sunny meadow, when I am physically being drenched by huge, angry raindrops. It's amazing that my imagination fails so completely when I actually need it, and never when there isn't anything on the line.

Not to say that there is anything on the line right now. There are just a lot of things to miss, and even more schoolwork to replace it with, which isn't really a fair trade. On the up side, I guess, I know I'm supposed to be here.

Even though... sometimes... if I try hard enough- when I close my eyes- I can feel the stark heat of California's summer on my skin, with the lightest of cool breezes making it bearable, on the hillside where I've hiked to hear the voice of God, clearly calling to me in the wilderness.

The sweet part is, God can call to me, and all of us, from wherever we are. Praises.

Ocean, Light, and Anywhere Else.

Barefoot, I step toward the sound it makes. Water rushes forward to meet me and I almost turn back around, swayed by the sudden headache from the cold. Walk in slowly, letting the waves hit my body slowly higher and higher, basking in the difference between their frigidity and the sunlight on my still-dry hair. And then there's finally the moment where I can't take any more of this slow stuff and dive under the next wave, headfirst, sinuously weaving my body under the surface and above the sand. Coming up at the end of breath just feels natural; it's almost as if the water is helping me to do it. Back in the sunlit world, I see giant coastal birds are flying so close to the curling waves, it seems that they are surfing them.

The salt water burns my throat and stings my eyes and the sand in the wax on the board scratches my knees and the board doesn't have any fins, so I know I'm guaranteed not only pain, but fail as well. None of this changes my mind. Because, able to stand or not, there is nothing like riding the waves. To start out, trying to stand on your own two feet, buffetted by enormous waves so much stronger than you, tired- and then to grab that board, pull yourself on and paddle at the right moment, and conquer what was just attacking you- nothing compares. Laughing with your best friend as the waves topple you, time and time again, but still chasing down that feeling- still free.

I'm going to miss the light of home. There is something different about it that I can't name. But it draws me in, entices me, leaves me breathless and somewhere in the past. Sitting in the light of dusk, I can feel other summers I've known, other twilights with other people, other emotions. I sit and drink it in, restlessly comfortable, if that is possible. Missing faces, experiences, but gloriously aware of the present and the opportunities of the future.

Aware that my past, present, and future are all in the hands of a loving God- who is more powerful and awesome than I can begin to understand- but who, all the same, has woven my life into His plan. Whether I'm in my hometown, Michigan, or anywhere else.

The Scars We Choose

Sometimes music lyrics can say exactly what is in you. Sugarland does tonight. I was driving home from hanging out with friends, listening to "Take Me As I Am":

"I know these corners, I know these streets; curbside prophet there yelling at me. He can save my soul for a drink and a dollar. Yeah, he's yelling about my tattoos; we all live with the scars we choose. They might hurt like hell but they all make us stronger."

I like the truth of those words. There's a lot of things I'm tired of, I guess. But I'm tired of hypocrisy. We do all live with the scars we choose. And my tattoos are me- choosing to live with scars that represent the good on the outside, instead of living with the hurt of the bad on the inside. My tattoos are the most important lessons I've learned.

The first one is a dagger (sword) with the words "bought with a price" on it. The dagger is supposed to represent the Bible, which is called the Sword of the Spirit. To me it portrays the fact that I believe God's word is strong, sharp and double-edged- and it protects me. The words come from 1 Corinthians 7: 23 as well as 6:20. "You were bought with a price: do not become slaves of men." "For you have been bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body."
I got that tattoo after a series of mistakes I made during which I doubted God's promise, I did not glorify Him with my actions, and I think I did become a slave of men. I'll never understand why I acted the way I did, except to say that I let my insecurities get the better of me.

The important thing is that God is Truth. The important thing is that the words of Him are true, and they are strength. So, if God says that I am His, that He shed the blood of His Son on a cross milleniums ago to buy me- then I am His. Truly and honestly then I need to seek Him and care for nothing but His glory.

I guess that's an intro to my second tattoo.

I'm a college senior. This means about a hundred times a day I am asked what I'm going to do after I graduate. I am sick of this question. I try to use it to glorify God- to demonstrate that I am committed to seeking His will for my life. I say, "I don't know yet- I'm just waiting for God to let me know" or "I'm not sure, but I know God is!" or "I don't really know, I think God is teaching me obedience and preparing me to follow Him no matter where He tells me to go."

I'm really tired of even other Christians looking at me askance- as if this isn't a real answer. As if waiting on God is some sort of cop-out.

Because it isn't. It's what we're supposed to be doing- always. I know what lost feels like. I know what it means to not have a direction and to not know where to even begin. But I never need to feel like that again, because I am a Christian- and I follow Christ.

So my tattoo is a compass. Around the edge, in what is probably really bad Latin but what I choose to demonstrate my heart, it says, : O God, be my course (or direction) and the love of my life. Instead of the compass directional points N, S, E, W, I have the bible verses that God has most used in my life to comfort and lead me.

Job 33: 28 "He has redeemed my soul from going down into the pit, and I will live to enjoy the light." When I was in middle school, I was sincerely depressed until God sent someone in my life to really show His character to me in everyday life (instead of just during the highly charged atmosphere of summer camp). Over time, I learned that life was not darkness- not with God. He taught me to love life- and to laugh.

Psalm 27: 13-14 "I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the LORD." Sometimes life is a waiting game. But, God is good- we may be waiting for something that we've been praying for, but that doesn't mean we need to be idle, or that God doesn't have anything else on the table for us. Our hope is for the next world, but there is so much goodness to be had in God's plan here on earth- in the land of the living.

1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18 "Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." This is a never-fail good advice for my life. If I'm lost and I have no idea where to go or what to do there is always this. And it's what got me through some of my toughest semesters at college.

Deuteronomy 10:21 "He is your praise and He is your God, who has done these great and awesome things for you which your eyes have seen." This is in the North position. The steadfast, always true, always where my needle should be pointing is toward giving God glory. That's what I want. That's why I went to college, an obedient daughter. That's why I love working at a Christian summer camp. Because God is amazing. He has done great and awesome things. And I have seen them. He is the Creator of everything- and He is good.

I want to serve and follow Him. I am His.

And I want the scars I live with to reflect that.

An Intergovernmental Military Alliance

I miss your voice.
I'm sitting here on my bed in my sunshine yellow room, vibrant green shorts on- staring out at a grey-cloud strewn sky. Here. How can this be? I thought I lived in San Diego, California. I thought I lived in a world without rainclouds- in a field of daisies. Or it could be posies, I guess. The memory is vague, but colorful.

I guess I did until I drove away from you in that parking lot. Since then, I've shed tears over you. What is this nonsense?

Gosh, I don't know what I'd do if the iceplant had lost its color as well. The problem is: it's on the ground and my head has always been up in the sky. Formerly blue sky.

I never really know what to expect from a summer. They've all been so different. I thought I had a pretty good handle on how this one would go though. I expected paintball and ropes and base camp, for the most part. I expected climbing wall and archery and the midweek breakdown at Kid's camp, and the phenomenal bounce-back, a veritable ricochet of emotions. I expected to find nothing new, nothing attention-grabbing and significant from this world. I expected God to keep me stalwart. Strong only in Him. I thought I had wrapped my heart up and carefully stowed it away in a place where it could peacefully love my co-workers and the campers it came across and serve God. I expected some hard times, but for the most part, to coast through this summer soaking up the love of Christ.

I did not expect you.

I didn't expect a rollercoaster of new experiences to pursue, and new lessons to learn. I didn't expect to be enthralled- to find a soul who could possibly be so close to mine. I didn't expect that level of kindness and closeness and openness. I didn't expect to find someone I would so respect in terms of manliness, strength, godliness, and willingness to feel.

You walked into that office, different than I expected. I was excited to finally meet you, but I was excited about all the summer staff who were coming up. I started to get to know you slowly, but now what can I say? I didn't think I'd find a best friend.

You make me want to dive into life headfirst. All the things that I haven't yet done because I've been busy or "obedient" or lazy, you've made me want to do. Just thinking about the life you're inspiring me to lead makes the adrenaline race, it feels, from my heart to my fingertips- as if somehow what I'm typing could be made into action by its presence. It can't, of course. I have to make my life my own. I had a good start before I met you, but now I know some courses have to be made from scratch.

Here's the thing: it is possible to do that.

I think what I've learned from you is that I'm not broken. I think what you've taught me is that no matter what, my past doesn't have to be a leash on my future. Not if I don't let it. It's okay to dream; to pick a course and to pursue it to its conclusion. Even if I have to bulldoze and level the ground- and pick out all the ground cover, watering liberally. God can use us no matter how many times we've screwed up- we can repent. He'll turn us back to Himself and all along we've been a part of what His plan for this world is.

So- maybe you've taught me what God meant you to- you've blessed my life enough, maybe. Maybe it's okay if we never meet again. But I don't want it to be like that

and I hope you don't either.