when things make sense...

I can't connect the dots by looking forward, only backward.  When I look over my shoulder, I think I'm seeing glimpses that make me smile.  Not the cheesy grin for pictures, not the amused smirk with friends, but the slow curving of the lips that comes with a peaceful sigh - the kind that says, 'Yes, that's some of what this was for.  And it's worth it.'

October 8, 2011

Let this day be my offering.
May this time mark the place,
where my soul stops its wandering,
and my shifting feet cease.
You have my heart quieted and calm,
full of sand, wind, and storm.
Would I not run while standing,
to your arms now be drawn.
I could keep up my pace,
I could still wander on...
On my own I'd be leaning,
my own power long gone.
You placed rock 'neath my feet,
while I ran around in the sand;
Please, my Jesus, forgive my vanity,
may I hold tight to your hand.

missing you

   It is a beautiful, humbling thing to be missed.  It is a hearty, real, unsettling thing to miss someone.  There are some things a video screen and conversation can fill, and others - moments you wish to share, times you want to wrap your arms around a person or kiss their cheek - to pick up a phone and bring them into your day, to meet and hear about the mundane or complex things of theirs.
   And I sit here, halfway across the world from (#) of the best friends I could ask for... and many more to name - women I am so thankful to know, to watch them do life, to walk with and learn from, and I wonder how in the world I have anything to offer for them to miss.  Sometimes I think I have so much more to learn from them than they could learn from me... and so I guess what I'm trying to say is, thank you.  I don't deserve the beautiful friendships that you've given me, and at the same time, I hope I can treasure and cherish them, and hold them tight forever.  I know I don't need them.  I know that you are enough for me, and so I am thankful that you've chosen to give them to me.

A Prayer for 9/11 Ten Years Later

A Prayer for 9/11 Ten Years Later

I surrender all...

It's 12:52 am, and I confess that for the last hour (or two?), I have been aimlessly sitting at my computer looking up jobs and internships in Greenville.  Not because I'm looking for a job.  Just because I may, at one time, need to find a job in Greenville.  (i.e. in 10 months)  And as I, er, continued, I actually HEARD the words of the song playing on my Pandora...

I surrender all, I surrender all, All to Jesus, I surrender, I surrender all.

Right... about that.
See, earlier today, during a brief stolen few minutes with a best friend, I confessed for the millionth time (well... let's be honest.  I reiterated, restated, reopened, revisited, etc.  Confession usually denotes surprise, and this friend is WELL aware of this flaw of mine) my perpetual habit of trying to plan out my life, needing to have every duck in a row, and how ultimately that's all just different manifestations of FEAR and idolizing CONTROL.  I digress.  Anyway, last night, I decided something.

I'm not taking the GRE this summer.
Which means I'm not applying to Grad School while I'm in Russia.
Which means, I don't have "a plan" for the what next of The Return. (dun dun dun...)
Which means, I can quit wasting time spreading myself too thin in this last month before leaving.
Which means, I can actually focus on the things I need to do, like packing, lesson planning, logistics.
Which means, I will spend more quality time with my family and friends.
Which means, I want to trust God and His plan more than I want to have one of my own.
(I mean, come on - when will I EVER understand mine will never be as good, right?!)
(As if leaving for 10 months for a foreign country isn't enough to take in... I'm always trying to load that plate up, you know.  Silly me.)


But yeah, so.... my will power is a little pathetic.
But more importantly, no matter how many times I like to relapse back into that little habit, the major decision is still there, and I'm glad the Lord finally made me realize that I needed to decide to jump or not.

Oi vey.

back again...

I got to dance today.
To take class, to even teach impromptu... which was great prep for next week when I'll be full on teaching all week - an incredible answer to prayer in very specific ways.  And it was fun - I'm glad I got thrown in there to see how it went without worrying about it.
And, I even got to spend a few minutes alone in a dark studio all to myself, just me and Jesus... there's something about dance that says what you want without having to say it, and I love speaking that way with Him.
And it just really showed me -
I need to be doing more of that, continuing to spend time with Him in that way, and... even teaching kinda clicked.  It reminds me of this post from a few years ago... There's something there - something good, and meaty, and full of substance.  Something brewing, I can tell.  And I want it.  I know that wanting more of it means wanting more of Jesus, too.  So I'm asking Him to pull me in closer.
I'm ready.

NISSI, My Banner is Clear

My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my road is narrow, my way rough, my companions few, my guide reliable, my mission clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of adversity, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity or meander in the maze of mediocrity.  I won't give up, shut up, until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, or preached up for the cause of Christ. I am a disciple of Jesus. I must go till He comes, give till I drop, preach till all know, and work until He stops me. And when He comes for His own, He will have no problems recognizing me - my banner will be clear! 

young african pastor

Another one of Jes' statuses... see what I mean?

In my weakness, I worry that I will never live up to this kind of Christian living.  And similarly, my heart of prayer is often completely rebellious... which, duh, directly affects the way that I live.  And yet, I find comfort in this tidbit from my friend Jeff:

Our prayers don't seem whiny. They are incense.

Nice.  So, somehow, even though my living is homely, and my prayers are lowly, somehow they are still incense.  How is that? Well, that's why there's so much beauty in the Spirit interceding for us - He knows the wretchedness of our hearts, the Holiness of God, and the Love of our Savior.  He not only saved us once and for all, He continues to pray on our behalf to the Father in glory.  Amen?