Already Won

It's been a year. I never planned it to be that long. I never planned to take a hiatus at all.

It just happened. Life happened. 

And life is still charging on with no sign of relenting, but I've decided it's time to push blogging a little higher on the priority list. Why? Because I believe sharing is important. 

Because faith lived is faith shared. 

Because thoughts articulated equivocate thoughts internalized.  

I've been reading about the martyrs of the reformation recently. 

Maybe sometime I'll share more. But just this one thought for now.

The battle is already won. 

Why are we afraid to live that way? 

Why are we afraid to die that way?

When Love is Hard to Discern

Sometimes love seems hard to discern.
I mean, the divine love, the God-love.

When you feel that despite your best efforts, your life is out of control.
When you feel on the verge of a physical, mental, emotional breakdown.
When despite thorough studying and many prayers, you get a C on an exam.
When you come down with some variety of bug you picked up on a quick trip to Phoenix.

There are many things that happen on a daily basis that can make you question Love.

But I've found that actually, the reason that love is hard to discern is not the fault of Love.
Rather it is my problem because I have the wrong perspective.

It's like picking up glasses with the wrong prescription and expecting things to be clear.
You'll never see clearly until you have the right prescription.

And so it is with life.

Because when I realize my life is out of control, I run to Him for wisdom, not myself.
When I am on the brink of a breakdown, I cling to Him for strength, energy, renewal.
When I get a C, I realize that it's not the grade that really matters in the end, it's how I handle it.
When I come down with a bug, I'm thankful it's the weekend, and because of it I have a quiet Sabbath.

Through all these I realize that my God does love. Very much.
And these things are but proof of that love.

Love is only hard to discern when you have on the wrong glasses.

"He has given you continual evidences of His love in that He has given you adversity time and again..." 

*The Upward Look, 208

No More Airplane Mode

There's nothing like taking time to just disconnect from the outside world and enjoy family and nature. And that's exactly what I did this weekend. Bliss.

On one of our hikes up the mountain, Kiera and I decided to do some cross-country hiking to a little lake across the mountain bowl. Mom and Dad stayed behind and watched us from the mountainside since Dad's still recovering from his broken ankle.

As we made our way down the rocky slope and into the first of several valleys, we strove to keep our eyes on our goal, but as we dipped further and further, it became harder and harder. Soon we were just heading in what we thought was the right direction.

We continued on our very undulated trek and finally climbed the last knoll to find that we were quite significantly above the targeted lake. Although no harm was done, we did lose a chunk of time descending to the pristine little lake.

When we finally returned back to the mountain where our parents were waiting, I realized that Mom had been trying to text me when she noticed from her eagle eye perch that we were cutting up too high. I, however, had put my phone on airplane mode to save battery, and thus didn't see her messages. Because I didn't have my phone connected, I was unable to receive her guidance even though she desperately wanted to give it to me.

As I was reflecting upon the whole adventure later, it struck me that God must feel the same way. Here we are, down on this little earth. We don't have great perspective on our journey. Yet God can see everything from the end to the beginning, and sometimes He sees us cutting a little too high, or a little too low. And it pains Him because He so desperately wants to guide us.


God wants to save us time and possible misfortune, but unfortunately, the majority of the time we tend to have turned our "phones" off during the day and don't maintain the full-bar connection that we should. We don't memorize the Bible so that God can send us "texts" throughout the day by bringing scripture to mind. We don't put a high enough value on receiving minute-by-minute updates and counsel from our Ultimate Guide.

I have been challenged to rethink about how I go through my day. I need less time connected to my phone, and more time connected to my Maker. No airplane mode with Him. I want to keep in full service today!

My Question is Why

It's been a long time since my last post. And I've been traversing the country and world between now and then. I've learned a lot of things. Maybe I'll be able to share some of them sometime…

I've met many people this summer between ASI and YD and GYC Europe.
Some were old acquaintances, some were new.

I was privileged to hear many of their stories. Many were filled with life and joy and hope. But I also listened to accounts of broken heart after broken heart, broken home after broken home. And as I did, one question haunted me…

Why?

Why am I so blessed?

Why was I born into a Christian home?

Why was I born in a country of religious freedom?
Why have I escaped the all-too-common broken heart syndrome?

Why was I allowed to homeschool without authorities knocking on my door?

Why do I live in a home where my parents still love each other and love me even after 23 years?

Why am I so blessed?

I've pondered that question the entire summer.

The truth is, I've been blessed, not because I'm more special than any other individual on the planet, not because I've merited it and not because my parents were good people.

I have been blessed for this reason only…

…that I might be able to live my life to bless others without distraction.*

"Freely ye have received, freely give." {Matthew 10:8}


* Note: I do face personal trials and struggles on a daily basis, but all are relative when you compare them with the Cross. 

When God Goes Home

I climb out of the car after driving home from a week away. It's hard to be so close, yet so far.

The evening settles in. I am home. And I couldn't be happier.

We talk and we laugh and we share. 

We are family. 

Yet my mind begins to wander. 

I picture God in an empty heaven. 

(One person can make a place empty, you know.)

His Son has been thirty-three years away from home.
(I hope I never have to experience that.) 

Yet when Christ ascends and steps through that portal, excitement rebounds off of every galaxy, every constellation. 

He is home. 

But He wants me to experience His home too. For me to call it my own.
Because when God goes home, He says He cannot be completely content until I'm there too.

He watches me down here. 

I'm so close, yet so far. His heart yearns. 

And I ask myself, How earnestly do I long for that home?

Fire Dweller

Fire.

It seems to be a common theme when discussing the Christian journey. 

I have frequently experienced it in various forms in my life.

But of course, my "fires" are all relative. 

I'm not suffering from cancer.

I'm not in a dysfunctional, abusive family.

I'm not malnourished, neglected or unloved.   

And I don't take those things for granted. 

I am very grateful. 

To me, "fires" always punctuate life. 

It's just something to expect. They come and they go. 

I had a change of perspective this week though in that regard. 

I was reading through Isaiah 33.

"Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire?"

Dwell? Really? Not someone who just experiences fire every once in awhile?
Someone who dwells in the fire?

The description continues…

Walk righteously. 

Speak uprightly. 

Despise oppression. 

Hate bribes. 

Avoid hearing of bloodshed. 

Close your eyes from seeing evil. 

Sounds pretty saintly to me. 

Sounds like a description of perfection. A description of God. 

Then the familiar promise is given.

"He shall dwell on high: his place of defense shall be the munitions of rocks: bread shall be given him; his water shall be sure."

And you will see the King in His beauty. 

Wait, this promise is for the fire dweller?

How did I not realize this before?

In order to receive the promise, I must hold my half of the bargain. 

Fire must become my lifestyle. 

I must become a fire dweller. 

Then I shall see the King in His beauty and be fed from His hand.

Just Trust Me…

Three weeks ago my ideas were different. My plans unaltered.
I was organized. Everything was under control. It was all laid out perfectly (or so I thought).

But then things started happening.
And all of a sudden, within one week, I found a bunch of my plans flipped on their heads.

Dead end.

And I felt myself straining a bit at the reins. Because my personality likes to be on top of things, be organized, have things under control.

I hear a still, small Voice.
Just trust Me…

But, of course! Of course all things are really in the hands of His Majesty.
Yet sometimes, despite all the evidence from the past, I forget.
It's unfortunate. And it's unnecessary.

And so for a short while after each thing arose, I questioned. I wrestled. I surrendered.
But within me echoed and reechoed those simple words.
Just trust Me…

And so I trusted Him to see where I couldn't. Because obviously I didn't understand.
And He did. He always does…
I'm the slow one. The blind one.

And now looking back only a couple weeks later, most everything has already been resolved.

This week my A&P teacher overrode the system to get me into her class for fall semester.
The microbiology teacher said I can probably get into her class and lab too.

And all that after I wasn't able to register for the classes I wanted.

The Phoenix convention center was able to accommodate my date change. 

My other GYC-related meeting was rescheduled despite conflicts at both ends.

The family of one of my volunteers is going to be in the area exactly during our site visit.
And all that after my GYC site check and meeting plans had been unexpectedly interrupted.

And God's voice echoes again.
Just trust Me.

Today: A Gift

Birds chirp merrily outside my window, a tiding of spring.
New life will soon be bursting forth beneath melting snow.
Little seedlings sheltered indoors are pushing their green heads toward the sunlight.

It's a promising time of year.

Yet in one week I hear of birth, of death, of sickness, of sorrow. My heart is full.

So often we take things for granted, life especially. 

We don't stop to think that we might not wake up tomorrow.
That we might be in an accident next week.
That we might contract a serious disease next month.
That we might not live to see another year.

There is that possibility you know…

And I've been struck afresh with this one thought.

Live each day as if it were your last.

Redefining Balance

Balance is something the entire world struggles to maintain. I know I do.
We talk about it. We read about it. We post quotes about it.

My question is, how often do we live it?
And what defines living a truly balanced life?

But why should I write about it again? Go read it here.

Ideal World

We are walking down our driveway treading gingerly over icy patches. And as the brisk air turns cheeks to rosy red, we dialogue. It's just the two of us, mother and daughter, surrounded by pine trees enclosed by gray sky.

My mind is full. Thoughts dart back and forth like a confused colony of bumblebees. I feel as though my life is falling apart, yet I remind myself that it is not. It just feels like it.

And as I expound on my feelings to my patiently listening mother, she starts to smile. I've always been a perfectionist, and this is no exception. But somehow I've lost perspective.

Her words gently bring me back to reality as she articulates those very things I need to hear.

I want to live an ideal life in an unideal world. And I realize that what I think is "ideal" really isn't realistic. Yet there is perfection in every step of the journey, and I must learn to love each chapter of life He brings.

So I am seeking to simply do my best and not rake myself over the coals wishing I could have "done better" when in reality I have already done my best. Because this is just another one of the devil's traps, convincing me that I am compromising when God says perfection is in the journey. It's easy to forget experientially, but I'm learning.

God looks at the heart, not the checklist.

And when He is in my life, my world is ideal.

The Thankful One

Dust billows and rises under tired feet to meet fading day. On the horizon silhouettes form the welcoming outline of a small town where thirteen weary travelers anticipate spending the night. Gathering fatigue slows the pace of some, quickens others. All is silence besides the gentle crunch of footsteps.

Suddenly a gasp escapes the lips of one in the group as ten shadowy figures approach the travelers.
They are untouchables. They are the lowest of the low. They are lepers.

I can feel the tension, the awkwardness of the moment.

"What audacity!" one disciple whispers to the other.
"The nerve of them! Don't they realize that this is prohibited by law?"

Audacity indeed.
And Someone recognizes it.

Ten men cry for mercy from One who men say is the Mercy-Giver.
Jesus commands them to go. And they go.

Following the running men at a relaxed pace, the group of disciples and their Master continue on.
The gates of the village are not far now. Warmth and nourishment are imminent.

Yet silence is abruptly interrupted again as a man rushes excitedly toward them.
It's one of the lepers with tears flowing freely down glistening cheeks. He has something to say.

"Thank you, Jesus… 
       …thank you, thank you, thank you."

In his delirious euphoria he can say nothing more. But that doesn't matter. 
This Samaritan has grasped what Christ has been vainly trying to teach the Jews for months.

Gratitude is a lifestyle.

One man was thankful and soon his testimony converted hundreds.
Because his thanksgiving was not a one time event, but a way of life.

And I wonder what kind of thanksgiving I have…
Am I living a life of gratitude?

Lighted Eyes

I always learn a lot through people watching. 

Heightened perception sometimes allows me to notice subtleties that others miss.

The past few weeks have given me ample opportunity for such activities. A week of VBS followed hard by joyful wedding preparations culminating in a beautiful ceremony. Four lives committed to their Savior. A weekend event highlighting missions.

Now I'm home again, for a few short days, reveling in quietness and contemplation of days past.

It's the eyes that hold me.

Eyes lighted with an undimmed brilliance. Eyes that have tasted freedom. Eyes filled with a new love.

There is nothing better than seeing luster kindled behind the eyes of my friends, and I call a lot of people friends.
You are my friend, and I want to see your eyes lighted too.

If your eyes have grown dull, Love's gleams are waiting at your command because my God is a Chain-Breaker. He opens prison doors, sets captives free, heals brokenness, ignites new love.

Will you let Him? If you are unsure of how, I would love to share.

I want to see you with lighted eyes.

We Call It Sacrifice?

{Jeremiah 33}

“…and of them that shall bring the sacrifice of praise into the house of the Lord…”

I rest back into my chair and mull over this phrase.

We call a lot of things sacrifice. Giving a miserly amount for missions. Setting down a good book to go help our parents with a project. Speaking to someone who’s feeling lonely when we would rather be conversing with friends. Spending a day helping at the homeless shelter. Adhering to healthy lifestyle principles just because we know it’s good for us. Putting aside our selfish nature for the benefit of others.

We call this sacrifice. And I rebel.

Because if Christ truly has our hearts, the above is not sacrifice; it’s joy. Pure joy.

When the wellspring of Christ’s joy is in our hearts, to give is to gain; to obey is our pleasure; to share is our song. 

It’s an all-consuming pursuit of happiness of the eternal variety.

And praise? For the Israelites it was embodied in a physical offering, yet there is also the verbal aspect.

We often pride ourselves, thinking we declare our praise and adoration quite often.

We praise God when we call on Him and He shows us great and mighty things. We praise God for healing. We praise God for the big things in our lives. And to us, it seems no sacrifice. The blessings are so obvious.


But what about the things we take for granted? Or perhaps the things that don’t appear to be blessings?

Little things.

Like a minute of sun piercing through the clouds. Like a plethora of Bibles sitting on our shelf. Like instructive criticism from a caring mother. Like golden tamarack trees dotting the hillsides. Like a toothbrush. Like giving to sustain and educate a girl across the world. Like the gift of learning. Even like trials and temptations, suffering and pain, heartache and tears.

Yes, all these are worthy of our gratitude and praise. Through the eyes of the Infinite we can view even the thorniest valley as a gift from the Giver. And we mustn’t forget to pour out our hearts in thanks to the Giver Himself…

With all that He has done for us, praise is no sacrifice; to give is pure joy.

Filled with Gratitude

Another year has passed into unalterable history. My heart is filled beyond over-flowing with gratitude. My God has been so gracious to me this year.

I think back on lessons He has taught me and opportunities I have had… They are all blessings. 

I see His fingerprints everywhere along my path. 

My thankfulness encompasses two consecutive days. Special days. Days to especially express gratitude from the depths of my heart. Not that I don't thank Him every day of the year. I do.

But I've had special time to ponder my thanks over the past couple days. I cannot but praise Him. 

For so many things…

My spiritual experience has gone deeper this year than ever before. I have been pushed and encouraged  by friends and my fire has been kindled brighter by the coals from His fire. You know who you are… Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 

I have learned so many lessons: That adversity is my greatest blessing, every life matters, brokenness brings transformation, war takes every last drop of blood I have. Yet He has enraptured my heart.

I have also been blessed with so many opportunities this year that I never could have dreamed of on my own. God always out-gives. Always…

I'm counting my blessings, yet they are innumerable.

Thank you, Father… I know You will prove Yourself faithful yet again this coming year.

Stay or Surrender

{Jeremiah 21}

Death or life. Polar opposites. Obvious choice, right…?

You would think so.

“I set before you the way of life, and the way of death.”*

Surrender and you will live. Stay and you will die.

Why then do so many die?

Because they choose to remain within the familiar and comfortable. 

The city, though it be their undug grave, is all they’ve ever known… 

It holds a certain amount of security. 

To surrender to an unknown army, and unknown future is downright frightening. 

It is directly disregarding everything that has been ingrained in them since birth.

And so they stay…

Yet only in surrender is there life.

Then why do we shy away from surrender, from risking all we’ve ever known, from leaving the familiar and embracing uncertainty with the eye of faith?

Why are we content to remain within the comfort of our walls, forgetting that to stay means death?

Why do we cling to the chains which hold us fast when the gift of freedom is dangling above our heads?

Because in the familiar is a sense of security.

But that’s just the devil’s lie to keep you in bondage until you rest in the grave.

Risk yourself by pushing open the city walls and surrendering.

For only in surrender is there life…

*{Jeremiah 21:8}

He is Everything… (And INFC pictures)

If there is something that has rebounded into my consciousness time after time during the past week, it is this…

God is everything.

From wakening me renewed hours before dawn day after day…
To stretching cuisine further than we deemed possible…
To the dozens of willing hands and cheerful hearts who volunteered to lighten our burden every meal…
To hearts touched and lives convicted (including my own)…
To miracles everywhere I turned…

Yes, He yet again proved Himself capable of doing above and beyond my wildest dreams. Sustaining when I deserved to be exhausted, giving when I didn't deserve to receive, encouraging when I felt drained, and so much more…

And I am reminded once again that He is everything to me.

Yes, everything…

--

Here's a brief glimpse into a week full of smiling faces and willing hands…

Scrumptious peanut butter carob fudge!

30+ batches of waffle batter!

Dedicated to the Harnish's :)

Those oven gloves were absolutely irresistible!

You have to watch out for Uncle Jeff… ;)

Carob delicacies

The excellent potato washers

And potato stabbers… (they developed interesting techniques!)

Gravy in the making

Helping to uniquely decorate the stage :)

Boxing lasagna for Sabbath lunch

This Day; This Battle

A silent mantle of mist slowly rises as sunlight creeps down the coniferous hillside.  

I walk. I run. I wrestle. I pray.

It is a theme I cannot deny. 
Everywhere I turn, everywhere I go, I see fresh reminders of its undisguised reality.

Thoughts in the shower,
     wood-splitting with my brother,
          conversations with friends,
               work with saws and sanders,
                    recent blogposts,
                         a walk with my dear Mother,
                              family worships and personal devotions…

Evidences are everywhere.
There is a real battle to fight. Conflicts to engage in. Souls to be won.

Rest is not an option. There is no time to live mediocre Christianity.
I’m learning, a part-time Christian is no Christian at all.

In my half-asleep reality, it seems so real. The wrestling arena is filled. 

The atmosphere is intense. And then I see Him. His powerful form causes 

the strongest black-cloaked wrestler to shudder. There is no question who 

will come off Victor. My Savior can win every wrestling match. 

So it’s off to the thick of battle…
I must wrestle for those who cannot wrestle for themselves, holding the arm of the Divine.

“If God be for us, who can be against us?”

His Power Never Goes Out

The lights flicker. And flicker again. And finally go out.
A soft evening glow falls softly through the window setting a new ambiance to our Friday evening.

After a moment's consideration Dad resumes reading one of our family's favorite book series, Jungle Doctor, by the faint light of dusk. The family is cozily situated on the floor of the bedroom. I close my eyes and listen, laugh, cry.

Blink. The power bursts back on. Despite the adventure darkness might have been for a while, light is a good thing. Power sustains life.

After the last chapter of the evening is concluded and prayer offered, I sit thinking…

My Power Source never flickers or dims. He cannot have a power failure. He is continually available if I will but flip the switch and turn on the Power. If I make the choice, nothing can interrupt my connection.

His Power never goes out.  

No. Never.

Gift of the Crucible

Has it really been an entire week since I was surrounded by nine energetic faces ranging from age one to thirteen and laughing with one of my best friends? It’s a thought hard to comprehend. So much has transpired between now and then, but the memories are as vivid as though it were yesterday.

Those 36 hours were filled with laughter, creativity, discipline, hugs, tears and mischief yet I wouldn’t have traded that last weekend for anything.

From dirty faces covered in the remnants of a traditional African meal, to reenacting David and Goliath, to playing tag in the oppressive heat, to cuddly kids, to dealing with obedience issues, to getting all nine kids through the shower, to hours of reading Swift Arrow, to making sure everyone ate their food, to baby smiles, to crying onion tears… Yes, they are memories I will never forget.

Yet after the flurry of the Crucible had abated and I found myself on a truck headed to Idaho, I contemplated the concept of a crucible again. And it was then that I realized that the crucible is the epitome of my Savior’s love.

For it is in the searing heat of trials that we learn to hear His voice best. It is only when we feel our complete incompetence to live a godly life that He can truly align our heartbeat with His and tune our lips to sing His praise…

The crucible is a precious gift.