Once upon an August morning...

I was jerked awake at precisely 5:27 by a squirming knot in my stomach. Its cause was this dreadful realization: I had parked in a place where I could get a ticket... or possibly towed. Rushing outside with an impending sense of doom, waves of relief washed over me as I saw my fabulous, enormous, wood-paneled wagon still sitting in the lot (next to a tiny smart car, which gave me quite a laugh) completely ticket free.

Praise the Lord!

                          —Not even for sparing me a headache and inconvenience, really, but for this:
I was dragged out of bed in a frenzy, fully expecting the worst, only to step out the front door and literally have my breath taken away by one of the most glorious sunrises I've ever seen. Vivid magenta clouds illuminated the horizon, ribbons of crimson and gold reaching their spindly fingers up into the retreating darkness. And in that moment, I was struck by the overwhelming mercy of my Savior.

So I drove to Cup of Joe, got some chai, and sat on the river,
drinking in God's word and the splendor of His creation. 


                                                                   But this I call to mind,
                                                                          and therefore I have hope:
                                                                   The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
                                                                          his mercies never come to an end;
                                                                   they are new every morning;
                                                                          great is your faithfulness.
                                                                   “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,
                                                                          “therefore I will hope in him.”

[Lamentations 3:21-24]

OSTRICHES: [the Questioning]

This post is the second of a three-part documentation of the journey my overly-analytical mind took while hitting the replay button on the song below. Please give it a listen in its entirety before diving in; I've written out the lyrics for your convenience. Click here to read part one.

—   —   —

My False by Matt Corby

You see, I don't know where I'm running to

It's become quite hard to see

There's a guilty weight on my conscience

Of all my wrongful deeds

It's time to reconcile
It's time to reconcile

Oh, if I walk into the darkness, I'll be lost
But if I try to stay, the light will show my false

I will keep my head in the sand, dear

Let the grains block out the sun

With shame as my companion

It will stay close til I'm done

It's time to reconcile
It's time to reconcile

Oh, if I walk into the darkness, I'll be lost
But if I try to stay, the light will show my false


Oh, if I walk into the darkness, I'll be lost
But if I try to stay, the light will show my false

—   —   —

Songs are funny, cause the narrator might not necessarily be the guy who wrote it. But when I first heard the lyrics of this song, I immediately wished I could talk to the person whose sentiment they convey. There are so many things I'd want to ask... Questions that, if I'm being transparent, I would like to pose to most people I meet; there are some things that nobody spends time thinking about, and those tend to be the things that everyone should think about.

[the Questioning]

            —ask yourself—

Do you feel a lack of direction?

Why?

And why are you running when you don't know where you're going?

            —ask yourself—

Is guilt something you should just try to shake off?

Cause it's a tangible thing; You feel it. 

But do you think you should?

Is guilt something we deserve?

Why or why not?

And where does it come from?

            —ask yourself—

Are you more afraid of the stuff you do, or the idea that other people might find out?

What do you do with the shame you feel daily?

Is that something you just have to accept, or is the goal to try to ignore it?

Letting yourself be ignorant of your circumstances
—colloquially 'keeping your head in the sand'—
does that make it any better?

Do you think you deserve to feel better?

Why?

            —ask yourself—

What would make it better?

What is reconciliation?

To what or whom are you being reconciled?

How do you achieve it?

—   —   —

If I pay attention, I don't see people thriving.
It seems like the ache of this song is echoed in the hearts of everyone around me.

And maybe you've noticed, too.
Maybe, as hard as you try,
a purposeful, beautiful, joyful life just doesn't seem to be in the cards.
So here's my question:

Is this as good as it gets?

And if it isn't, why is everybody ignoring that fact—
—like ostriches with their heads in the sand?
It this isn't as good as it gets, then why is everybody pretending that it is?

Click here for part three

Today has been

                                   ...one of those days.

Wretched things:

I'm sick.

I'm tired.

I'm stressed.

I'm confused.

I miss camp.

I miss soccer.

I miss my friends.

I miss my family.

Things that always make me feel better:
Prayer.
Reading Donald Miller.
Being cozy.
Watching glorious sunsets.
Getting a back rub that's so good it hurts.
Feeling pretty.
Going on walks at night.
Listening to Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.
Jumping in puddles.
Painting.
Hearing the Truth.
Drinking raspberry chai.
Hugs.
Assurance that God knows what He's doing.

I'm looking for a place

where I can plant my faith.

One thing I know for sure;

that I cannot create it

and I cannot sustain it.

It's Your love that's keeping me

Please be my strength. 

Please be my strength,

cause I don't have any more.

I don't have any more.

And at my final breath,

I hope that I can say,

"I fought the good fight of faith."

I pray your glory shines 

in this doubting heart of mine

And all would know that You--

You are my strength.

You are my strength;

You and You alone.

You keep bringing me back home.

sufficient is tomorrow's worry

Sometimes I get scared by the things that scare me.

The full potential of that sentence to convey what I'm trying to get across could very easily be lost in the illogicality of the English language.

Let's try again:

I get freaked out when I take a closer look at the types of things that worry me.

Did you get it that time?

There are silly things and there are not so silly things. For example: I worry about the degradation of my cooking abilities via college enabling me to neglect practice. (Thanks, dining hall...) With that one I'm like, "Aiiiiiight: WHY am I actually worrying about this? What's wrong with me? I feel like cooking is more of a riding-a-bike thing than a using-the-quadratic-formula thing. You don't ever have to re-learn it, it just kind of sticks with you."

But then... I worry about being utterly miserable at college because I'm away from my nieces... My family, my friends, those I love and cherish and don't want to replace... And on this I muse, "There's merit here: this is scratching the surface of a potentially huge problem. If I can't handle being away from these people for a few months at a time, what happens when I study abroad? Student teach in France? Get a job in a town hours away? Marry someone from a different state? I thrive on closeness. I'm passionate about my relationships. Am I setting myself up for a depressed life of pining after those I can't hug every morning and sip tea next to while racing to finish the day's crossword?"

I freak myself out, going on these tangents that carry me off until I have sneaky tears sliding down my face, mourning the idea that my nieces will forget me; that I'm not a sufficient friend, sister, daughter; that I'm incapable of helping others; that I'm too silly or too stupid or too selfish; that I'm not appropriately stewarding God's gifts; that I don't know where the heck I'm going in life and, thus, am wasting the time I've been given, floating around aimlessly without direction or purpose---

But, alas. I'm reminded that none of it is true.

And that worry is a synonym for not trusting God's plan.

And I'm beating this dead, rotting horse more than I can believe, but allow me to say it once more-- because in my insecure, doubtful state I need to be reminded so often: God does have a plan. And I am safest in His hands. He has purpose and direction for my life that is better than anything I could ever dream up. And when I'm feeling insufficient or worried or anxious and don't trust Him, He will gently guide me back into His loving arms and show me that He is all I need.

Matthew 6:

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also... Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

The prayer of a dear friend from this summer:

"Grace... I pray you have spent time in intimacy with God today. I pray you dwell in God's house; that you do not simply visit. Do not be distracted. Be genuine, be present, & acknowledge the temporal quality of your worries. Rest in the continued presence of God. I pray you live intentionally, each moment, for God's glory. Trust that He will be faithful, even if you are unfaithful to Him, for that is His nature... Amen"

burn, burn

All I want is time.
Free, expansive, unimpeded time.
to do with as I please.
Time to play my guitar.
All I want to do is play my guitar until my fingers bleed.
And then I'll superglue them shut and play more, more, more.
I want time to create art,
as much as I want, in whatever medium I want
at my own leisurely pace,
with no one telling me that taking the ACT
and applying for colleges is more important.
My grandchildren won't care how many colleges I applied to.
They won't treasure my test scores and show them to their children.
My great-grandmother's paintings are hanging all around my house.
I want time to read,
and not, like, obscure excerpts from King Lear
or random short stories about racial tension that my AP lit teacher piles on us.
I want to get lost in scripture for hours
and not have to worry about anything but what is pouring into me.
Last night I was 34 psalms deep
...when I got a text from a friend.
There are other distractions in my life that I want to have the option of escaping from.
I want to re-read all my favorite books,
and I want time to sit for an hour after i've finished them,
and just revel in their poetic construction and meaning.
I want time to laugh with my nieces.
And not worry about all the other pressing, 'important' things I need to be doing.
I want to swing and play dress-up and sing for hours.
I want time to go on a walk.
just walk around
in the cold and the still and the silence
and marvel at my Creator's creation.
That would be the greatest christmas present ever,
besides maybe the guitar that my mom is trying to hide in her room,
if someone were to simply ask me if I would like to go on a walk.
where to?
where ever we end up.
nothing else to do today
nothing we should be worrying about
no deadlines to meet.
I've already taken the stupid ACT...
I want to take an entire day
to just call all the people I haven't spoken with since summer,
people whose lives I wanted to invest it to a great extent,
until I let my busy schedule get in the way.
There's no excuse for that.
There were ministry opportunities that faded away
as I watched from behind my planner
filled with scratchy notes and reminders.
I feel like there isn't enough time in the world for me
to do whatever it is I'm supposed to do.
to be whoever it is I'm supposed to be.
to blossom like a flower in early spring,
growing in my creativity
and my understanding
my faith
my love
my joy
my influence
my conviction
I want to grow into whatever sort of woman God wants me to be.
I want to calm the chaos
I want to invigorate the mundane.
I want to never say any commonplace thing
or settle for mediocre.
I want to be set ablaze
to have an insatiable thirst for more of beauty, light, love, my God.




I want more.




The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
...And miles to go before I sleep.

-Robert Frost

What I was sure of yesterday...

I now know to be false.

But what I am sure of today is absolutely true.

....for now.

Life spins off in crazy directions, and sometimes we lose our balance.

I think I get caught up in the stress of it all and forget where I'm actually headed.

what's important

why I've been put here

who I'm becoming.

And I get a moment to come up for air and realize that I'm terrified, and I have no idea what the future is gonna look like. And that feeling in my stomach, in the back of my mind, it starts to creep in until I don't feel anything but worry. It doesn't accomplish anything.

Worrying is a synonym for not trusting if God's plan.

And he has a plan, I've been shown that over and over and over. But I'm insatiable and insecure so I guess I need to be continually reminded-- and I THANK GOD that he is a merciful and patient and loving god.

When I get lost in worry or stress, I peddle backwards through my mind until I find something that I can grasp, something to hold onto and put my trust and faith in.

And the simple truths that always stand are these:
> Jesus died for us. And HE ROSE.
>He LOVES us in an indescribable way. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCunuL58odQ

>God has made everything beautiful in its time. There is a plan for us and it is incredible, and if he showed it to us, wouldn't it ruin the surprise?

>He has set eternity in the hearts of men. "If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."

>Everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing can be taken away from it. He is perfect and so is everything he has orchestrated.

So I'm giving this up to him.