Mindful

{As I proofread this post, I realized the irony of starting with a photograph that appears to have been taken through the window of a moving car. I just want to mention that the car was stopped, for those of you are wondering!}

Something I’ve given thought to recently is being mindful, not just the awareness and consciousness of the present but also the people around me and the circumstances God places in my life. 

Mindfulness is a buzzword in psychology, and though it tends toward relativistic thinking, I believe that being engaged in the present is something that our culture, myself included, isn’t spending enough time doing. With the many distractions and tuggings in a million shattered directions, we forget. 

Not just to-do lists and quizzes in class the next day. 

We forget to think. 

We redirect our thoughts. 

If there’s something we don’t want to think about, we don’t – there are countless other distractions. We try to ignore the unanswered questions and pain and hollowness inside, hoping that if we don’t notice it then maybe we can pretend it isn’t there. I’m not just talking about non-believers. Christ-followers experience the sweeping consequences of sin that leave the heart aching. 

But why? If you’ve given your life to Christ and are living in obedience to Him, why in the world is everything so broken? Bodies, families, relationships, trust, belief? Why in this world?

Why are the screaming crying prayers late at night, asking God for hope, seemingly answered with silence?

Didn’t a broken body hanging from a tree suffer enough for all of us?

Suffering for Christ’s sake, being burned at the stake for refusing to deny His name, this serves such a powerful purpose. A life sacrificed to the Lord is beautiful though laced with sorrow and pain. But the quiet suffering from day to day? A dying friend, a chronic illness, a broken marriage? 

What if a sacrificed life isn’t only martyrdom or dying for the sake of another? Could it be that living for the sake of others, enduring difficulties, and living for the sake of Another makes a sacrificed life? 

I came upon these berries a few weeks ago, nearly hurrying past on my way to class. If you don't stop now you never will, I told myself.  They are beautiful, the scarlet berries contrasting the green leaves. They make me think of bright red blood, and I suddenly remember Isaiah 53:5, "But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed."I need to stay mindful of the Cross. Of the reason why my life has a purpose and is redeemed. Without the Cross, there is no remedy to the pain and suffering in the world. Without the Cross I am not reconciled to God. Without the Cross no hope exists. At the Cross there is forgiveness, overwhelming grace, unrelenting love. Jesus' redemptive sacrifice has canceled the sin-debt and brought us into fellowship with God. For this there is wonder and thankfulness and worship. I don't fully comprehend, and my life does not always reflect, but I rest in the truth that Jesus is more than enough. There is hope, not just at the time of the redemption but throughout all time including the present, and every drop of pain in this life does not compare to the glory to come.

Not only is there grace for every difficult circumstance, but there is also an opportunity to bring glory to God and grow closer to Him while growing in endurance and character. "But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."  - 2 Corinthians 12:9

I. The Wanderer's Song

Find me, find me where the tall grass grows
In the sunlight-catching meadow
With the evening growing cold
Come winding down the path
Past the weeping willow trees
Leave your burden in the grass
Let the stillness set you free

Find me, find me in the morning dew
Where the silence is surrounding
And the sun rises anew
Here we will find our safety
From the shadows in the night
Which are cast long and far and
The light ever pursues

Find me, find me before we've grown old
So we may do so together
And brave the darkness and the cold
Our love will be fire
In the blackest nights and longest days
What is love that does not kindle
Other fires and light the way

Lighting

      Sometimes I forget how much writing is like other disciplines of life: if you practice, you get better, and if you don't, you get rusty. I'm on the rusty side because it's been a while. Though I haven't picked up the pen recently, I have done a lot of summer reading on a variety of subjects, from cancer to modern art, and a variety of authors, like Steinbeck and Suzanne Collins. I eat books for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The more I read, the more I learn (for the most part).  I've also had many adventures, like surfing, whitewater rafting, and bouldering. This afternoon, I went to the mill with a good friend and we spent a few hours exploring the empty rooms and experimenting with lighting and photography. I started falling in love with shadows. The way they embrace an object or figure, draping it in darkness, making the little bit of light more entrancing. And let me tell you, the light at the mill at 5 in the evening is beautiful. 

So good that I'm going to keep going and keep chasing it and discovering how it falls gently and uncovers the shadows. Because nothing, nothing can make the darkness flee but the light. The mill would just be an enormous, empty cave if it weren't for the light streaming through the windows and telling the story of all time. 

Sustained

Tonight is a clinical night and I should be working on paperwork, but instead I write. My heart is so full of many things and I just need to slow down and breathe. On my iPhone I keep my notes app open so that I can jot down thoughts throughout the day. As I open it now, it looks something like this:
Thirsty heart // Off the beaten path // There's no such thing as ordinary //Seek His presence continually

And in capital letters, I AM SUSTAINED. The words that have been in my head for the last month. I am weak and fragile and seeing through a glass dimly, but I am sustained. My heart is alive because I am drawing from a source other than myself, relying on the Living Water, Christ the Solid Rock. And I am learning, following, often stumbling, but I am sustained. Life is happening so fast all around me and I'm fighting more than tiredness; I'm fighting for moments and simplicity amidst chaos and the glorification of busy. Every day, without realizing it, I make countless tiny decisions. Waking up thirty minutes early or sleeping in. Hurrying to class or stopping to smell the daffodils. Choosing thankfulness or choosing to pass these moments of grace by. I am learning to appreciate these days more fully.

"So we do not lose heart. Though our outer man is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." - 2 Cor 4:16-18

The eternal weight of glory. Eternity. Weight. Glory. Unseen. Words to wonder at.

True Religion

As believers, we need to realize what message we convey to non-believers. And I'm not really talking about the dangers of having tattoos or the occasional drink of wine or which part of town we hang out in. I hear the words "guard your testimony" often regarding what Christians should and shouldn't do. Clearly, Scriptures teach us to be holy and refrain from sin or the appearances of sin. However, the phrase "guard your testimony" doesn't really make sense when I think about it. Guard? My testimony? The only testimony I have is what Jesus did. And I don't want to guard it, I want to proclaim it and live it and make it known.
Sadly, the times I've been told to "guard my testimony" really did involve tattoos and what part of town I hung out in. And who I talked to.
One question. Who did Jesus hang out with?
Who did he come to save?
The Son of God went to the misfits, the beggars, the children, the sick, the prostitutes, the tax collectors. People that Christian culture seems to keep at an arms length and use hand sanitizer after encountering.
If avoiding being seen with my friend who has more earrings than ear and a rough band tee shirt is "guarding my testimony", then something isn't right. What if I told you that they called me on the phone to tell me that they had hit rock bottom and wanted to talk about Jesus? That they had been accused and judged by the Church community they visited, and afterward explored Buddhism because they wanted to learn how to love and find joy?

Jesus wants us to love people, not push them away with self-righteousness and airs of religious superiority. And we can. With His grace, we can become the Body of Christ that is a beacon of light and draws people in and gives them something to wonder about. We can show them that there is hope in the shattered, broken pieces, and that the love and sacrifice of Christ will bring them life.

Kindle A Fire

Love the light and let it change you.
Don't be afraid to have your shadows exposed.
Let it ignite a flame in your heart.
Kindle a fire in your chest.

 Sometimes, the darkness seems stronger. The battle seems lost. But the flame cannot be extinguished.
"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." - John 1:5

Finding Quiet

Experiencing beauty. Noticing details. Growing closer to people, creating things, finding truth, discovering.

Falling in love with the little parts of each day. There is beauty in everything, in the way that rays of sunlight find a resting place on the wooden floor and in the gentle sighs of the wind in the tree branches.

For me, this is a season of growing and simplifying and finding.
I'm trying to live deliberately and see the world through a prism of grace.

Finding little pockets of quiet in the hectic days that make up life. Choosing joy and deliberating in my heart to make time for what's important. Repeating David's prayer for God to "teach me to number my days, that I may gain a heart of wisdom."

Altitude

What's there to do on a foggy Sunday afternoon? Hike a mountain, of course. After church, we put on backpacks and warm clothing and ascended a beautiful mountain clothed in mist and beauty. Henry David Thoreau wrote that he went to the wilderness to live deeply. I feel that nature does something to the soul and by spending time outdoors, we make room for God to work in our lives in a unique way.

The ascent was steep and challenging, but the scenery was breathtaking. Enchanting woods. Abandoned buildings. Moss-covered stones. Mountain streams. Things I wish I had taken pictures of, things I wish I had the macro lens for. As I walked, I came up with some things I want to do before I return to school for second semester:

- Read five books
- Read through the New Testament
- Sketch each of the major buildings in the capitol
- Give something away
- Spend quality time with each member of my family
- Watch the sun rise and set

I kid you not, the fog rested like a blanket over the mountains and the valley below. Some scientists insist that mountains were formed from shifts in the tectonic plates, but I believe that God created them intentionally and loves aesthetic disruption in landscapes. The rising and dipping peaks of a mountain range sets awe and longing in the human heart.

There's a quote from somewhere that says, "Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt." Our muscles were aching by the time we reached the pinnacle, mine especially because of training I did with the running club yesterday. When we were descending the mountain, we decided that "Everything was beautiful and everything hurt".

Tidings of Peace

       My earliest memory of Christmas was when I was four. Until we grew much older, the clan would gather every blanket we could find and sleep on the floor of the living room on Christmas Eve night. Our reasoning was that we would be closer to the presents and Christmas stockings hanging from the mantle, and would be able to get to them faster in the morning. On this particular Christmas, I remember waking up with my sister and running to my parents’ room to get them up. Apparently it was 3 am, and they did not share the same enthusiasm for an early rising. However, my mom is an incredibly understanding person, and she knew we were excited to see what was in our stockings. She let us get one gift each out of our stockings. I don’t remember what I opened, but my sister got a sewing kit. For some reason, I still remember the orange scissors.

       After all these years, one thing that hasn’t changed is that us kids rush to get into our stockings first thing Christmas morning. In all honesty, I would rather sleep in and get to it later, but I have little siblings. And Christmas means the world to them, just as it did to me once. I am not eager for them to grow up. If they see their older siblings less excited than they are, I’m afraid they will be disappointed. So I jump out of bed however early it is and race them down the stairs. Mom follows a few minutes later, starts a fire, and then dad emerge half an hour later. He goes to the kitchen to start some coffee, and my little brother drags him to a chair and brings him his stocking. Dad always gets the same thing: Starbucks gift cards, pistachios, espresso beans, and a random assortment of antique coins or a book. 

       There’s something golden and sacred about my early memories of Christmas. When I was little, Christmas had a certain feeling that made me excited and a bit sorrowful and full of wonder. Every little detail in everything my parents did to make it special, to establish traditions, and make it Christ-honoring. Reading the Christmas story from scripture. Lighting candles. Opening tins of Christmas popcorn (and spilling tremendous amounts on the floor). Celebrating time as a family and blessing each other with presents.

       Why sorrowful? What was it that made me feel that as a four year old on Christmas? I think that even then I understood that I would grow up one day and would outgrow some things. Or maybe everything about Christmas with my family was so beautiful that it was like a small glimpse past the veil of Unsurpassed Beauty. The human heart aches after experiencing or beholding something beautiful; it is like the tides pulled by the moon. We long for the source of beauty; we long to behold something so great and other than. Homesick. Later I would realize that our celebration of the birth of Jesus is also a celebration of His sacrifice. To us a Child is born. For many of us, Christmas involves us being blessed and receiving; for the One who we celebrate, it was about sacrificing. Giving Himself. The sacrifice started long before the cross. What a burden for a newborn baby to take. Traveling to our little world and in humility being born to a virgin and a carpenter. God putting on flesh. Peace on earth and good will to men. Bringing life. What a strange and beautiful thing.

+/-

It's been raining outside for the last few days, and I've been feeling gloomy and out of sorts this morning. It really escalated when I spilled my coffee on my favorite blouse. So, back in my room with the blouse soaking, I've decided to write down frustrating things and weight them out with good things that have happened and that I'm thankful for. I saw this idea on another blog and thought it looked like a great idea!

 -
 I failed my math test because I ran out of time and didn't get to answer all the questions.
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 I went to my teacher's office and she explained a lot to me and I feel so much better. I'm retaking the test tomorrow.

 -
 I won't be able to take design tech I (or any art classes) next semester because my class schedule had some last minute changes.
+
 I stopped by the creative services office (it's awesome) yesterday and I might be working there next semester!

 -
The person who was supposed to buy my old Macbook backed out at the last minute today.
+
 I might be able to fix it for my sister.

 -
 I miss baking and don't have a kitchen in my dorm.
+
A friend literally just stopped by right now and brought me fresh-baked cookies.

  -
I lost a lot of my music library when my computer broke, and hadn't backed up my hard drive.
+
I've been enjoying lots of great music on Noisetrade, like Josh Garrels, the Sleeping at Last Christmas album, Beta Radio, This is the Giant, Astronaute, and Rivers and Robots.

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I probably won't be able to do an internship next summer because I'll be working as a camp counselor.
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I'm meeting with the head of the science department next week to talk about the possibility of being his research assistant!

Confessions of an Indecisive Overthinker

      As Autumn fades to a whisper, I find myself looking back on the year with a smile. How fast time flies, how rapidly we transition from one stage to another. Seasons are again changing and so is everything around me. It was sometime around now, last year, when I was Googling upcoming star showers, making holiday plans, thinking about classes to enroll in for the next semester. I was listening to Laura Marling and Regina Spektor and Mumford Sons. Not much has changed. And yet.

     I find myself thinking more and more about what I'm going to do after I graduate. I'm only a sophomore in college, but I want to figure out what I am going to do before I'm a senior and reach crisis. Last year, I was so sure of what I wanted to do. I felt confident that nursing was for me, and didn't look back. After one semester of clinicals, though, I'm not so sure. My problem is that I have one foot in nursing and one in art/design. I want to take care of people and use nursing to serve God overseas, but I also love art and creating beauty. Here are the pros and cons I've been weighing:

+

• I want to help people
• Nursing is a skill that I could use overseas
• There's something very fulfilling about healing
• Every time you see a patient you have the opportunity to bring hope
• I want to do something people-oriented
• I'll always have a job
• I'm already more than halfway through the program

-

• I want to do something really different with my life
• I don't want to work in a hospital
• I don't feel like a "nursing person"
• I get so nervous when I think about classes next year
• I'm not sure if I'm passionate about it but maybe I just need to commit

       Why are choices so hard? Why can't God just hand me a blueprint of my life so I'll know exactly what I need to do? Am I just over-thinking things? I can honestly say that I don't know which way I'm being pulled more. I'm exactly in the middle of this tug-of-war. I have to trust that God has a plan and everything is coming together. I talked with my mom for a long time last week, and she advised me pray, talk to my advisor, schedule art classes next semester, and not make a decision in haste. I have a huge problem committing to things, and I wonder how much of this struggle is just me doubting myself and realizing that this is going to be hard work. If I could just know for sure that nursing is God's will for me, then I'll happily commit and not worry about it again. The most important thing for me right now is to examine motives. Why did I start nursing in the first place? Am I drawn to art because it's easier and more enjoyable and fits my image better?

My prayer is that as I work through this, God will make my heart into a compass that points to Him.

P.S. The next meteor shower is the night of November 16 (tonight), and will be fully visible.

One Thing

In the hills of Israel God prepared a man who would lead His people. This man was a shepherd who grew up caring for his father's sheep and serenading mad royalty. Slaying giants and running from his enemies. He spent long hours in solitude, learning the ways of nature and of God. In Psalms 27, he writes, "One thing I ask of the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple."

One thing. Above riches and fame and success.

Everything changes when God becomes your one desire, one love, one vision. He becomes your obsession. As you become captivated by His beauty, it's no longer "gotta get my Bible time in before bed" but rather "how early can I wake up to spend time with God?"

However, that's not all. This is what changes everything: God wants you.

Christianity is the only religion in which a sovereign being wants a relationship with human beings. 

Think about that for a second.

 God wants relationship with you.

Treasure

Incase you haven't noticed, I post this photo a lot. I took it several years ago on a walk with my mom in the countryside, and it is one of my all-time favorites. Two of the best things - my mom and a wildflower. What do you hold dear? What do you love, cherish, try to protect and keep? Is it a dream, a treasured item, a person? And what measures would you take to keep it from harm? On my part, I cherish my relationships with the people I love. They have been cultivated carefully and are full of trust, affection, and sincerity. They are more important to me than my material possessions. And like precious items, time increases their value. My relationships with people have brought me comfort in hard times, helped me to grow, and given me opportunities to give of myself as well. Without these people I would not be where I am now. 

What do you cherish?

This morning I helped as a volunteer coordinator at the Special Olympics locally. It was one of the most rewarding experiences ever. And I have to say, I fell in love with every single person I worked with. Their minds and hearts carry something we can learn from. I want to understand what it means to give without expecting a return. I want to be full of life and full of love. 

"Meaning is in people, not things." What a simple truth. These are the wise words of my nursing instructor that she said in class one day and I've been processing ever since. It reminds me of the Mumford & Sons lyrics, "Where you invest your love, you invest your life." 

Choose to invest in people. Choose to see others through the eyes of compassion and love. Sometimes it takes a simple, childlike person to remind us that a smile wears better than a designer bag. 

Dear summer,

I guess this is goodbye.  Three suitcases, a plastic container and a collection of Trader Joe's bags later, I'm organized enough to say that I'm packed. I left my map and some art on my bedroom walls. I told my sister that I was leaving them because I didn't have room to take them, but the truth is that I don't want to completely erase myself from the room, the house. Moving out seems so serious and final. Somehow I continue to be amazed at how fast time goes by and feel change acutely. I'll be honest, I'm going to miss my family more than I did last year. It's probably because I've gotten a lot closer to them, and that's a good thing, but I don't want to leave them. This semester is coming with so many changes - two jobs, nursing clinical rotations, community service council, new roommates, new friends. I kept my teacher's assistant job and also took a shift as a lab assistant for the experience and future opportunities. 
There seems to be an enormous question waiting to be answered in my mind. I'm not sure what it is but it sounds something like "will the person I became this summer remain as school starts again?" I think the answer is yes and no. By "the person I became" I mean the changes - good and bad - that have occurred over the last few months. I have learned so much about grace and joy and how to live each day with purpose, and I really hope the load of classes and work and duties doesn't minimize that. God promises that I can do all things through His strength, and He will never leave me on my own. So yes, the changes He has been working in me are here to stay. On the other hand, we are constantly becoming different people and growing through experiences, so I am already a different person than I was an hour ago. Change is a friend. 
All things considered, I'm thrilled to be starting a new school year and continuing this journey. [Insert tacky quote about life here.] Let's double-check that packing list:

- Macbook 
- cookies for my roomies
- cardigan
- books I won't have time to read
- favorite mug
- tennis racquets

I think I'm good to go. And so are you.

Later,
Christy

Surrendered

       I was really moved at church this morning. I've seen countless baptisms before, but today was different. Ten or so people - ages ranging from five to fifty - were baptized in the name of the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit. It brought to mind my baptism, in the neighborhood swimming pool at the  age of 12. Commitment. God changed my life and continues to change it. The people being baptized this morning had so much joy on their faces as they experienced new beginnings. There was an innocence about them as they crossed their arms over their chests and held their noses and were submerged in the water by the pastor. After the baptisms, several people shared their testimonies of God's work in their lives: restored marriages, inner healing, deliverance from sinful lifestyles. Our God is so great and nothing is impossible for Him. He takes wrecked lives and puts them back together. He heals human hearts. He sets captives free. He watches us from above with love and compassion and daily shows us mercy.

t's just incredible how God makes things happen. We think He doesn't hear our prayers, but He hears them and understands them more than we do. You know how you plan things out and hope they go a certain way and then they don't and you freak out? Yeah, me too. Especially as a planner, I like to stay organized and know exactly how things will work out. Change in plans usually equals stress. We're extremely human and don't really know what's good for us. And it's hard to accept that sometimes (lots of times) God's plans are different from ours. We see on such a small scale while He has the big picture, and knows how to make everything fit together perfectly. A few hours ago I was freaking out hardcore about something that "messed up" my plans. But I'm beginning to realize that God is answering my prayers in ways I couldn't even imagine. I'm watching His faithfulness and goodness unfold right before my eyes.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways", declares the Lord. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."- Isaiah 55: 8-9

Small Things

I'm in the process of reading "Come Be My Light", the private writings of Mother Teresa. It definitely isn't a "speed read" - I'm taking my time to go through it, making notes and reflecting along the way. Again and again I am struck by her supernatural selflessness and commitment to give God her all. She fell in love with Jesus and was so confident of His love for her that out of the overflow of her heart she touched others with His love. She insisted, "Don't look for big things, just do small things with great love...The smaller the thing, the greater must  be the love."

"Why must we give ourselves fully to God? Because God has given Himself to us. If God who owes nothing to us is ready to impart to us no less than Himself, shall we answer with just a fraction of ourselves? To give ourselves fully to God is a means of receiving God Himself. I for God and God for me."

Walls and Bridges

Pain must lodge somewhere. For some people, it settles in their disappointments and becomes bitterness. For others, it hides in the deepest recesses of their hearts and numbs them, slowly builds a wall between them and their cause of pain. I think that everyone has been hurt in some way, and we all choose how we deal with it. The automatic response to pain is denial, and then burial. But it will resurface, sooner or later, and be dealt with.

Or pain can soften our hearts and make us more sensitive and loving.
From our place of greatest suffering can we minister best.
It can become a bridge between us and the hurting.
I don't want a calloused heart.
I'm all yours, God, break me and make me.

chasing fear away

I'll always remember this one summer afternoon at the beach. I was surfing by a pier, the sky overhead was cloudless and azure blue. It really felt like summer. I was lying on my surfboard about twenty yards away from the shore, just past where the waves were breaking. It's easy to underestimate the ability of the current to tire you out, and I was taking a rest, just lying there, my arms dangling off the side of the board. 

Suddenly the water got very still and I felt a chill run through me. 

I thought I saw a large shadow pass under my board. To this day I don't know if I saw something or if it was my imagination, but it doesn't really matter. I came face to face with fear - lying on my board all alone in the ocean, helpless, with the company of some large fearsome fish - and I guess I've never been scared of sharks again. Strange, isn't it? Sooner or later you just get over fear, because you realize that if you don't, it will limit you. Danger is no less real once you encounter it, but you make the choice that you are willing to live with consequences. Playing card games isn't exciting without risk. Neither is life. I'm planning to visit a shark aquarium this summer.