It suddenly hit me today that its summer. Actually, it sort of slithered down my back in a sweaty trickle while I was taking a walk with Mattie. We got soaked out there, and it was only 10:30 in the morning! In fact, we were so miserable, and the misery was all in the name of responsible exercise, so we decided to crash the pool next door, for just a short swim. Far too short for Mattie, whose jaw dropped several inches when I gave the five minute warning. That girl is going to morph into a mermaid or something. Well, she might not like me using the word mermaid, I just mean...those are more human than fish. She just likes the water. That's what I mean.
On the way up the driveway after we'd donned our swimming suits, we found a sad sight- one of those cruel effects of summer (besides making you sweat to death.) A fat, bulgy earthworm was wriggling helplessly along the driveway, about to start sizzling on the oil dirt. We pitied it. At least, I did. I'm not sure what Mattie did. "Poor little earthworm..." I said, with this wierd compassion welling up in me from a forgotten childhood corner. Isn't it a mystery how you can suddenly have this emotional empathy thing going on for an earthworm? I mean, the creatures don't even have heads. What's more, they feel disgusting. Now, tent worms- those fuzzy striped caterpillar types- those are actually really cute, kind of like miniature kittens or something. But earthworms don't even have personality.
Ok, so I did the inevitable. Shoving down my loathing for slimy earthworm surface, I plucked the little fella up off the driveway and threw him into the grass (it was probably a him, I really don't know.) Compassionate feelings don't do anybody any good if they don't produce action.
By now, it probably looks like I'm an environmentalist freak of some sort- but I'm not. I'm really not! I just have a childish propensity to rescue distressed earthworms. I honestly don't have an environmentalist bone in my body. If you know my dad, you know what I mean.
So, it's summer...my siblings and cousins are playing together, chocolate chip cookies are baking, and I'm happily blogging while probably numerous earthworms are frying outside on the driveway. But its ok. This is Texas. This is summer. This is life. :)
Friday, June 29, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Seeking
This might end up kind of long, but I need to lay out my thoughts somewhere. In an earlier post, I talked about "Bob," the imaginary person who torments me with confusion over what to do and when. Well, Bob has been back in such a serious way that I don't feel I should even call him Bob anymore...The past day or so, the distress has been a lot over praying, especially praying for other people. It's so difficult for me to intercede, and yet its such an obviously necessary thing for a Christian to do. I know don't do it enough, but if prayer is so important, is there ever an "enough?" I read something about Martin Luther praying for three hours one day...and I just think, even praying that much in a fervent way is an unreachable goal to me, and even then, there would always be more to pray for...sooo...it feels hopeless. I feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of things a Christian is "supposed to do," and feel totally incompetant to be a Christian, which grieves me because I don't want to be separated from God. I've tasted how wonderful He is, and I hate the thought of losing Him, but I know I can never measure up.
So...I've been asking desperate questions and looking for answers- looking for answers in God's word as a wise friend counselled me to do a few days ago. Somehow I just felt like reading the King James Version (which I usually don't do) and now I know God was leading me to it, because there were some amazing things in the study section (its a study Bible, and I confess, I haven't used a Study Bible at all in my 18 years. I always thought I'd get off track and get more into the study than the Bible.) So when I type in verses, some will be in KJV while some will be in my "home version," the NIV.
Today I desperately needed some help, so first I just flipped open to Psalms, where I found I could so agree with David!
"I am feeble and very broken; I have roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart. Lord, all my desire is before Thee, and my groaning is not hidden from Thee..." Ps. 38: 8-9
"Hold not Thy peace at my tears; for I am a stranger with Thee, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were..." Ps. 39:12
"Mine iniquities have taken hold upon me, so that I am not able to look up. They are more than the hairs of mine head, therefore, my heart faileth me." Ps. 40:12
My words to God were something like this: "God, I am broken, I need You...don't keep peace when You see me crying, please do something!...I'm a stranger with You; I feel like I don't even know You. No one else can help me, I know it has to be You...and yet, I can't measure up to what you tell me to do. I know that You've saved me by Your sacrifice and grace, but now that I'm saved I don't have the spiritual strength to keep Your commands...so it seems that I'm just going to keep sinning and separating myself from You every moment. I want to draw near...I want to say "ok, God, I'll just obey you." It's worth it to me to sit silently and try to pray for three hours if I need to try that, if I can just please You and get to come near You" But I....I can't. I just can't.
So, I realized, all over again, just like it came to me a few nights ago in another time of searching, that my deepest need is for salvation. To be able to please God. He is so big and I want Him so much, but He's just too perfect and I'm too weak. I know that He's saved me for eternal life, and I've been reading all these verses about His love...but I have always wrestled with the beautiful idea of having rest and peace and constant communion with Him here on earth. Of knowing that He's pleased with me.
It's so cool to me that that need for salvation is what David is agonizing over in the Psalms, here where I "flipped open to"!
"Sacrifice and offering You did not desire, but my ears you have pierced, (for service, like in the New Testament when they pierced the ears of bond servants), burnt offerings and sin offerings You did not require...I desire to do Your will, Oh my God; Your law is within my heart." Ps. 40:6,7 NIV
In verse 11 it says "Withhold not Thy tender mercies from me, Oh Lord..."
That's what I need...it's all I can plead from God. Please, have mercy on me.
So I found myself searching for tender mercies...and found them in Luke 1...(its much simpler in the NIV, although it sounds beautiful from the KJV)
"Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel,
Because He has come and has redeemed His people.
He has raised up a horn of salvation for us
In the house of His servant David...
to rescue us from the hands of our enemies,
and to enable us to serve Him without fear
in holiness and righteousness before Him all our days...
And you, my child, [John the Baptist], will be called prophet of the Most High;
For you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way before Him,
To give His people knowledge of salvation
Though the forgiveness of their sins,
Because of the tender mercies of our God,
By which the rising sun will come to us from heaven
To shine on those living in darkness
And in the shadow of death,
To guide our feet into the path of peace."
(most of Luke 1:68-79), NIV, my emphasis
To serve You without fear, God- that's what I want!
So then, I looked up salvation in the study Bible notes and found that,
"The Hebrew and Greek words for "salvation" imply the ideas of deliverance, safety, preservation, healing, and soundness." The study notes also said that salvation is in three tenses:
1) "The Christian has been saved from the guilt and penalty of sin and is safe."
2) "The Christian is being saved from the habit and dominion of sin."
3) "And the Christian will be saved at the Lord's return, from all the bodily infirmities that are the result of sin and God's curse upon the sinful world and brought into entire conformity with Christ."
"Salvation is by grace through faith, is a free gift and wholly without works. The divine order is: first salvation, then works."
Whoa!!! So...my works don't affect my salvation? They don't affect the safety, healing, and protection of Christ right now? Apparently not.
In another study note I read..."For salvation, faith is personal trust, apart from meritorious work..." Personal trust. Personal trust in a personal God, whom I've known was personal and whom I've longed to know intimately, but couldn't see how childish trust could be enough. So yes, I continued, now excited, on my treasure hunt, trying to figure out what works really are. Philippians 2:12-13 says:
"Wherefore, my beloved...work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who worketh in you, to do of His good pleasure."
Oh no! Not working again...not figuring out my own salvation...once again it's a feeling of abandonment as I realize that I must be a friend of God or I have no real friendship in all the world- and yet it looks as if God has left me to figure it out for myself, like a father buying his five year old a bike and leaving him to put it together on his own on Christmas morning...But it's not this way. God is so mysterious to me...His ways are so different...His works are so different!
"What must we do to do the work God requires? Jesus answered, 'The work of God is this: To believe in the One He has sent." John 6:28-29
"...to the man who does not work but trusts God who justifies the wicked, his faith is credited as righteousness." Rom. 4:5
"There remaineth, therefore, a rest to the people of God. For he that is entered into His rest, he hath also ceased from his own works, as God did from His. Let us labor, therefore, to enter into that rest..." Heb. 4:9-11a
Working to rest...it sounds like an oxymoron, but it actually makes so much sense to me. It's definitely a big job to rest in God and give up the tendency to try to rescue myself...its a big work, but its not an impossible one because it doesn't require my strength to climb higher- only my willingness to let go.
So, again with David I will say:
"Let all those who seek Thee rejoice and be glad in Thee; let such as love Thy salvation say continually, 'The Lord be magnified!" Ps. 40:16
So...I've been asking desperate questions and looking for answers- looking for answers in God's word as a wise friend counselled me to do a few days ago. Somehow I just felt like reading the King James Version (which I usually don't do) and now I know God was leading me to it, because there were some amazing things in the study section (its a study Bible, and I confess, I haven't used a Study Bible at all in my 18 years. I always thought I'd get off track and get more into the study than the Bible.) So when I type in verses, some will be in KJV while some will be in my "home version," the NIV.
Today I desperately needed some help, so first I just flipped open to Psalms, where I found I could so agree with David!
"I am feeble and very broken; I have roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart. Lord, all my desire is before Thee, and my groaning is not hidden from Thee..." Ps. 38: 8-9
"Hold not Thy peace at my tears; for I am a stranger with Thee, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were..." Ps. 39:12
"Mine iniquities have taken hold upon me, so that I am not able to look up. They are more than the hairs of mine head, therefore, my heart faileth me." Ps. 40:12
My words to God were something like this: "God, I am broken, I need You...don't keep peace when You see me crying, please do something!...I'm a stranger with You; I feel like I don't even know You. No one else can help me, I know it has to be You...and yet, I can't measure up to what you tell me to do. I know that You've saved me by Your sacrifice and grace, but now that I'm saved I don't have the spiritual strength to keep Your commands...so it seems that I'm just going to keep sinning and separating myself from You every moment. I want to draw near...I want to say "ok, God, I'll just obey you." It's worth it to me to sit silently and try to pray for three hours if I need to try that, if I can just please You and get to come near You" But I....I can't. I just can't.
So, I realized, all over again, just like it came to me a few nights ago in another time of searching, that my deepest need is for salvation. To be able to please God. He is so big and I want Him so much, but He's just too perfect and I'm too weak. I know that He's saved me for eternal life, and I've been reading all these verses about His love...but I have always wrestled with the beautiful idea of having rest and peace and constant communion with Him here on earth. Of knowing that He's pleased with me.
It's so cool to me that that need for salvation is what David is agonizing over in the Psalms, here where I "flipped open to"!
"Sacrifice and offering You did not desire, but my ears you have pierced, (for service, like in the New Testament when they pierced the ears of bond servants), burnt offerings and sin offerings You did not require...I desire to do Your will, Oh my God; Your law is within my heart." Ps. 40:6,7 NIV
In verse 11 it says "Withhold not Thy tender mercies from me, Oh Lord..."
That's what I need...it's all I can plead from God. Please, have mercy on me.
So I found myself searching for tender mercies...and found them in Luke 1...(its much simpler in the NIV, although it sounds beautiful from the KJV)
"Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel,
Because He has come and has redeemed His people.
He has raised up a horn of salvation for us
In the house of His servant David...
to rescue us from the hands of our enemies,
and to enable us to serve Him without fear
in holiness and righteousness before Him all our days...
And you, my child, [John the Baptist], will be called prophet of the Most High;
For you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way before Him,
To give His people knowledge of salvation
Though the forgiveness of their sins,
Because of the tender mercies of our God,
By which the rising sun will come to us from heaven
To shine on those living in darkness
And in the shadow of death,
To guide our feet into the path of peace."
(most of Luke 1:68-79), NIV, my emphasis
To serve You without fear, God- that's what I want!
So then, I looked up salvation in the study Bible notes and found that,
"The Hebrew and Greek words for "salvation" imply the ideas of deliverance, safety, preservation, healing, and soundness." The study notes also said that salvation is in three tenses:
1) "The Christian has been saved from the guilt and penalty of sin and is safe."
2) "The Christian is being saved from the habit and dominion of sin."
3) "And the Christian will be saved at the Lord's return, from all the bodily infirmities that are the result of sin and God's curse upon the sinful world and brought into entire conformity with Christ."
"Salvation is by grace through faith, is a free gift and wholly without works. The divine order is: first salvation, then works."
Whoa!!! So...my works don't affect my salvation? They don't affect the safety, healing, and protection of Christ right now? Apparently not.
In another study note I read..."For salvation, faith is personal trust, apart from meritorious work..." Personal trust. Personal trust in a personal God, whom I've known was personal and whom I've longed to know intimately, but couldn't see how childish trust could be enough. So yes, I continued, now excited, on my treasure hunt, trying to figure out what works really are. Philippians 2:12-13 says:
"Wherefore, my beloved...work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who worketh in you, to do of His good pleasure."
Oh no! Not working again...not figuring out my own salvation...once again it's a feeling of abandonment as I realize that I must be a friend of God or I have no real friendship in all the world- and yet it looks as if God has left me to figure it out for myself, like a father buying his five year old a bike and leaving him to put it together on his own on Christmas morning...But it's not this way. God is so mysterious to me...His ways are so different...His works are so different!
"What must we do to do the work God requires? Jesus answered, 'The work of God is this: To believe in the One He has sent." John 6:28-29
"...to the man who does not work but trusts God who justifies the wicked, his faith is credited as righteousness." Rom. 4:5
"There remaineth, therefore, a rest to the people of God. For he that is entered into His rest, he hath also ceased from his own works, as God did from His. Let us labor, therefore, to enter into that rest..." Heb. 4:9-11a
Working to rest...it sounds like an oxymoron, but it actually makes so much sense to me. It's definitely a big job to rest in God and give up the tendency to try to rescue myself...its a big work, but its not an impossible one because it doesn't require my strength to climb higher- only my willingness to let go.
So, again with David I will say:
"Let all those who seek Thee rejoice and be glad in Thee; let such as love Thy salvation say continually, 'The Lord be magnified!" Ps. 40:16
Monday, June 25, 2007
Love Verses from God
My bloglessness of the past two weeks has caught up with me...I don't know how to jump back in. I could talk about how much its been raining, but that would be totally unnecessary and probably annoying, so I won't. And I could tell more about recent grocery shopping experiences, but that would be redundant, and probably also annoying, so I won't.
So, hmm. God's word is really amazing right now. It's hard to say that without a twinge of guilt, because, while it's been so amazing to me, I keep on putting it off and pushing it aside like dirty laundry. But that doesn't change God, or His word, and I'm so thankful for that!! I've been writing down verses on cards and keeping them close...in the kitchen, by my bed, in my purse (where they keep getting ruined in the rain.) Until now, I've mostly ignored verse cards, avoiding them like a truant because of my constant failure at memorization. But I'm not *ahem* memorizing the verses...I'm just reading them a lot so that I remember them. See? It's NOT the same. We've been looking up verses on who God says we are...and it brings so much security at a time when I need it so much! Well, I guess everyone needs it, but I find in the middle of the life crisis of graduating and all the changes that go with that, I REALLY feel the need to know what God says to me and about me. And more often than not, the verses are really saying something about who HE is for me.
I can't doubt His love...
"I have loved you with an everlasting love." Jeremiah 31:3
I am not rejected...
"I have chosen you and not rejected you." Isaiah 41:9
I am not left behind...
"I will never leave you nor forsake you." Hebrews 13:5
I am not cut off, untouched, alone, lost, or out of control...
"You have hemmed me in behind and before, You have laid Your hand apon me." Ps. 139:5
I am not unwanted...
"I belong to the Lord." Isaiah 44:5
All these are just faint echoes of a mysteriously wonderful relationship with a mysterious, wonderful, invisible Being who I'm just beginning to love...It's like a childhood, an adoption, a courtship, an engagement, a marriage, a friendship, all rolled into one rich purple garment wrapped around my shoulders...the "garment of salvation" mentioned in Isaiah 61:10 (another love verse!)
It's so amazing to bask in this and let it soak in, surround me, drown me...and these are only five verses in a whole book-full!
So, hmm. God's word is really amazing right now. It's hard to say that without a twinge of guilt, because, while it's been so amazing to me, I keep on putting it off and pushing it aside like dirty laundry. But that doesn't change God, or His word, and I'm so thankful for that!! I've been writing down verses on cards and keeping them close...in the kitchen, by my bed, in my purse (where they keep getting ruined in the rain.) Until now, I've mostly ignored verse cards, avoiding them like a truant because of my constant failure at memorization. But I'm not *ahem* memorizing the verses...I'm just reading them a lot so that I remember them. See? It's NOT the same. We've been looking up verses on who God says we are...and it brings so much security at a time when I need it so much! Well, I guess everyone needs it, but I find in the middle of the life crisis of graduating and all the changes that go with that, I REALLY feel the need to know what God says to me and about me. And more often than not, the verses are really saying something about who HE is for me.
I can't doubt His love...
"I have loved you with an everlasting love." Jeremiah 31:3
I am not rejected...
"I have chosen you and not rejected you." Isaiah 41:9
I am not left behind...
"I will never leave you nor forsake you." Hebrews 13:5
I am not cut off, untouched, alone, lost, or out of control...
"You have hemmed me in behind and before, You have laid Your hand apon me." Ps. 139:5
I am not unwanted...
"I belong to the Lord." Isaiah 44:5
All these are just faint echoes of a mysteriously wonderful relationship with a mysterious, wonderful, invisible Being who I'm just beginning to love...It's like a childhood, an adoption, a courtship, an engagement, a marriage, a friendship, all rolled into one rich purple garment wrapped around my shoulders...the "garment of salvation" mentioned in Isaiah 61:10 (another love verse!)
It's so amazing to bask in this and let it soak in, surround me, drown me...and these are only five verses in a whole book-full!
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Musings of the Greenhorn Grocery Shopper
Maybe grocery shopping seems like a pretty mundane thing to be so fired up about, but once again its on my blogging mind. The greatness is again apon me, and probably will be about once a week for the rest of the summer, judging from the looks of things. That's fine with me. I never thought of grocery shopping as an art, but, hmm.
Anyways: Ethan came with me, therefore a stop at McDonald's was imperative. We got enough fries to spoil his lunch and make me incredibly thirsty. While he munched away at his calorie ridden potato sticks I studied my grocery list, which was mercifully short. I say mercifully because I had written it in Russian (a painstaking activity, let me tell you.) Since I know virtually no Russian yet, I had to look up most of the words (ok, all of the words) in my spiffy new Russian book (Learning Russian the Fast and Fun Way). Then I said them over and over to myself and gawked at them, and then put down each word, letter by letter, on my little scratch paper. The result was a delightfully cryptic column representing turkey, American cheese, two loaves of bread, bananas, a brownie mix, Pringles, and a watermelon. The word for groceries alone was 18 letters long. And just as hard to pronounce!
French fries duly accounted for, Ethan and I found a buggy and set off to conquer Walmart once again. By now I knew my shopping list pretty well by memory, and even in Russian, but I still glanced over it and clung to it like a blankie of sorts when I discovered that a whole watermelon was 5 bucks, even on sale. eek. After a little figuring I relaxed and felt ok, but left the watermelon till later. Ethan sat in the cart and "protected" the bread for me. I figured enlisting his manly protective instincts might discourage him from intentionally smooshing the bread, and it did :)
I noticed today that some of my grocery shopping anxieties have been assuaged...the choices weren't quite so overwhelming today. Still, the availability of 20 different kinds of cake mixes strikes me as crazy. The chip aisle is further lunacy...I mean, there is probably about eight feet of space from four or five shelves reserved for Pringles alone. Pringles are good, I grant you that...but do we really have to have pizza flavored ones? Why not actually eat pizza? Probably because there are too many topping choices. At least with the pizza flavored Pringles, you don't have to decide.
So yes, there was my soap box for the day...you may hear more in the future. I'm trying to learn to accept where I am and what God has surrounded me with so graciously...but getting used to real life is really...wierd. Hard. I'm just a kid, learning to do sort of adult things. Trying not to take life too seriously. Since school is over, I suddenly feel that these everyday things are my school, and figuring out the price of a sack of onions or how much it costs to make a meatloaf seems like a big deal.
Luckily, I managed to find a cake mix. Brownie, actually...on sale, 2 for $2...there was little choice about it since it was the cheapest thing on the shelf, though I wanted to be daring and try something else. Like lemon. Or European chocolate flavored (whatever that means!) The delimma is, I start thinking will my family like this? If Mom has never gotten it before, then maybe its because she doesn't like it. Do I dare? I know this sounds silly, but if you've ever shrunk under the skeptical glances of your family members as they peer over your shoulder with a chary sniff...you might know how I feel about it. I don't want it to end up like the neon green, mint flavored angel food cake experiment that languished on the counter for days while I slowly nibbled away at it by my lonesome. You could say I just don't trust my own judgement about what normal people consider edible. So, nothing but brownie mix. When I bemoaned my hesitation to mom later, she consoled me by pointing out that I had branched out with the Pringles- instead of sticking with original, I got the cheesy variety. Of course, Ethan picked them.
Eventually I finished, and it was time to pick up Mom and Mattie from their nursing home visit. I selected a voluminous watermelon, which looked really good, just dirty on the bottom. Once again, I had more than enough money, and everything on my peculiar little list was accounted for. I paid, loaded, and left, donning my imaginary Laurel Crown of Victory.
Anyways: Ethan came with me, therefore a stop at McDonald's was imperative. We got enough fries to spoil his lunch and make me incredibly thirsty. While he munched away at his calorie ridden potato sticks I studied my grocery list, which was mercifully short. I say mercifully because I had written it in Russian (a painstaking activity, let me tell you.) Since I know virtually no Russian yet, I had to look up most of the words (ok, all of the words) in my spiffy new Russian book (Learning Russian the Fast and Fun Way). Then I said them over and over to myself and gawked at them, and then put down each word, letter by letter, on my little scratch paper. The result was a delightfully cryptic column representing turkey, American cheese, two loaves of bread, bananas, a brownie mix, Pringles, and a watermelon. The word for groceries alone was 18 letters long. And just as hard to pronounce!
French fries duly accounted for, Ethan and I found a buggy and set off to conquer Walmart once again. By now I knew my shopping list pretty well by memory, and even in Russian, but I still glanced over it and clung to it like a blankie of sorts when I discovered that a whole watermelon was 5 bucks, even on sale. eek. After a little figuring I relaxed and felt ok, but left the watermelon till later. Ethan sat in the cart and "protected" the bread for me. I figured enlisting his manly protective instincts might discourage him from intentionally smooshing the bread, and it did :)
I noticed today that some of my grocery shopping anxieties have been assuaged...the choices weren't quite so overwhelming today. Still, the availability of 20 different kinds of cake mixes strikes me as crazy. The chip aisle is further lunacy...I mean, there is probably about eight feet of space from four or five shelves reserved for Pringles alone. Pringles are good, I grant you that...but do we really have to have pizza flavored ones? Why not actually eat pizza? Probably because there are too many topping choices. At least with the pizza flavored Pringles, you don't have to decide.
So yes, there was my soap box for the day...you may hear more in the future. I'm trying to learn to accept where I am and what God has surrounded me with so graciously...but getting used to real life is really...wierd. Hard. I'm just a kid, learning to do sort of adult things. Trying not to take life too seriously. Since school is over, I suddenly feel that these everyday things are my school, and figuring out the price of a sack of onions or how much it costs to make a meatloaf seems like a big deal.
Luckily, I managed to find a cake mix. Brownie, actually...on sale, 2 for $2...there was little choice about it since it was the cheapest thing on the shelf, though I wanted to be daring and try something else. Like lemon. Or European chocolate flavored (whatever that means!) The delimma is, I start thinking will my family like this? If Mom has never gotten it before, then maybe its because she doesn't like it. Do I dare? I know this sounds silly, but if you've ever shrunk under the skeptical glances of your family members as they peer over your shoulder with a chary sniff...you might know how I feel about it. I don't want it to end up like the neon green, mint flavored angel food cake experiment that languished on the counter for days while I slowly nibbled away at it by my lonesome. You could say I just don't trust my own judgement about what normal people consider edible. So, nothing but brownie mix. When I bemoaned my hesitation to mom later, she consoled me by pointing out that I had branched out with the Pringles- instead of sticking with original, I got the cheesy variety. Of course, Ethan picked them.
Eventually I finished, and it was time to pick up Mom and Mattie from their nursing home visit. I selected a voluminous watermelon, which looked really good, just dirty on the bottom. Once again, I had more than enough money, and everything on my peculiar little list was accounted for. I paid, loaded, and left, donning my imaginary Laurel Crown of Victory.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Swimming With Mr. Safe and Other Adventures
10 things I thought today :
1. Someday I will put pictures on my blog, but not today.
2. Did I burst my eardrum or is that just earwax?
3. How do you make cornbread moist? (besides adding cheese, creamed corn, or sour cream)
4. I need to relax, even if somebody is pouring liquid in my ear.
5. St. George is so dashing. I wish he'd come after me.
6. How long can I balance on a boogie board in the pool?
7. What's going on with Ukraine's government right now?
8. Ethan's new nickname should be "Mr. Safe."
(Ethan, protesting: I don't want to wear floaties!
Mattie: They'll keep you from drowning if you fall in the pool.
Ethan, eagerly: Ok, I'll wear 'em!)
9. Is Ethan ever going to get off the ladder into the pool?
10. My hair is growing :)
These are some of the deep and profound thoughts of my soul today :) God woke me up early this morning and I was delighted to find that there was less laundry than usual (mainly because there was more yesterday) but there were still lots of menial drudgeries to be attended. I did get to read to Ethan about St. George and the Dragon, and The Knights of the Silver Shield (wow, what an allegory of life right now...I love that story!) Click here: The Knights of the Silver Shield Scratch St. George after all, I think Sir Roland is my hero. After all, the man who can control himself is better that the one who takes a city. Or the girl who controls herself. Patience is harder than daring-do at times.
So there was Sir Roland, and laundry, and breakfast, and then swimming next door, which was, you know, diverting in its own way. Ethan was hilarious. He climbed my neck like a koala bear while I tried to calmly adjust him to the water (which was not even cold). He did have his floaties on, but couldn't comprehend how they might possibly save him from such grave peril...I carried him on my back, but after several minutes of the his death grip and and a close brush with strangulation, I opted for a more kangeroo like position, so he attached himself to my front, his hair poking in all directions and pouty blue eyes glaring frostily whenever I dipped into the water to much. Finally I put him back on the ladder and tried to persuade him to "swim." You know, "motor boat, motor boat," and all that. No go. "Come on, Ethan, just kick like this and I'll hold you up." "I'm not there yet," came the icy reply. Later, however, he did manage to inch along the wall of the above-ground pool all of four and a half feet...though he was only actually in up to his wasteline. oh well.
About the earwax, it's really not of great import...I think I just got a little violent with the q-tips after swimming. Mom poured alcohol in my ear to fix it somehow, and it is better. The sensation was something akin to being stuck in a cave near a flooding river while being tickled. Sort of like clausterphobia (is that how you spell that?), but in a spastic sort of way. Mom says she likes having liquid poured in her ears, so I guess one of us really needs help :)
1. Someday I will put pictures on my blog, but not today.
2. Did I burst my eardrum or is that just earwax?
3. How do you make cornbread moist? (besides adding cheese, creamed corn, or sour cream)
4. I need to relax, even if somebody is pouring liquid in my ear.
5. St. George is so dashing. I wish he'd come after me.
6. How long can I balance on a boogie board in the pool?
7. What's going on with Ukraine's government right now?
8. Ethan's new nickname should be "Mr. Safe."
(Ethan, protesting: I don't want to wear floaties!
Mattie: They'll keep you from drowning if you fall in the pool.
Ethan, eagerly: Ok, I'll wear 'em!)
9. Is Ethan ever going to get off the ladder into the pool?
10. My hair is growing :)
These are some of the deep and profound thoughts of my soul today :) God woke me up early this morning and I was delighted to find that there was less laundry than usual (mainly because there was more yesterday) but there were still lots of menial drudgeries to be attended. I did get to read to Ethan about St. George and the Dragon, and The Knights of the Silver Shield (wow, what an allegory of life right now...I love that story!) Click here: The Knights of the Silver Shield Scratch St. George after all, I think Sir Roland is my hero. After all, the man who can control himself is better that the one who takes a city. Or the girl who controls herself. Patience is harder than daring-do at times.
So there was Sir Roland, and laundry, and breakfast, and then swimming next door, which was, you know, diverting in its own way. Ethan was hilarious. He climbed my neck like a koala bear while I tried to calmly adjust him to the water (which was not even cold). He did have his floaties on, but couldn't comprehend how they might possibly save him from such grave peril...I carried him on my back, but after several minutes of the his death grip and and a close brush with strangulation, I opted for a more kangeroo like position, so he attached himself to my front, his hair poking in all directions and pouty blue eyes glaring frostily whenever I dipped into the water to much. Finally I put him back on the ladder and tried to persuade him to "swim." You know, "motor boat, motor boat," and all that. No go. "Come on, Ethan, just kick like this and I'll hold you up." "I'm not there yet," came the icy reply. Later, however, he did manage to inch along the wall of the above-ground pool all of four and a half feet...though he was only actually in up to his wasteline. oh well.
About the earwax, it's really not of great import...I think I just got a little violent with the q-tips after swimming. Mom poured alcohol in my ear to fix it somehow, and it is better. The sensation was something akin to being stuck in a cave near a flooding river while being tickled. Sort of like clausterphobia (is that how you spell that?), but in a spastic sort of way. Mom says she likes having liquid poured in her ears, so I guess one of us really needs help :)
Monday, June 11, 2007
Like an Ocean
Jesus, Jesus
Holy Lover
Waves of love
Washing over
Wrap me in Your sweet affection
Safely hold me in perfection
Of Your sufferings.
This is what came to my mind (and pen) yesterday when I was feeling small and sweaty and insecure and anguished, and I remembered a picture God had given me a while back of what His love for me is like.
God's love for me (for you, too) is like an ocean. Always there, always full. Generally speaking, an ocean always has the same amount of water, but the water is always in its cycle of waves and tides. I'm always in the ocean, but sometimes it feels like the tide has gone out...When I question God's love, it's usually a question of "does He still love me?" He said He did yesterday, but does He still love me today, after I didn't make time for Him, or didn't do those extra dishes, or whatever. Does He still love me when my hair is cut? Does He love me when I'm sweaty and need a shower? I'm grinning at myself as I write...but really, I girlishly wonder these things. But He still loves me. "While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" so I can never make His love more or less. It's always an ocean full. When I sit in the lamplight at night and just smile at Him, sometimes I feel a giant wave of that love wash over me. He doesn't love me more, He just simply loves me, and as He so passionately expresses in Hosea 11, His heart is turned over within Him, and it swells in mighty waves over us...He is so powerful!!! May you be awash in His love and not be able to do a thing about it!
Holy Lover
Waves of love
Washing over
Wrap me in Your sweet affection
Safely hold me in perfection
Of Your sufferings.
This is what came to my mind (and pen) yesterday when I was feeling small and sweaty and insecure and anguished, and I remembered a picture God had given me a while back of what His love for me is like.
God's love for me (for you, too) is like an ocean. Always there, always full. Generally speaking, an ocean always has the same amount of water, but the water is always in its cycle of waves and tides. I'm always in the ocean, but sometimes it feels like the tide has gone out...When I question God's love, it's usually a question of "does He still love me?" He said He did yesterday, but does He still love me today, after I didn't make time for Him, or didn't do those extra dishes, or whatever. Does He still love me when my hair is cut? Does He love me when I'm sweaty and need a shower? I'm grinning at myself as I write...but really, I girlishly wonder these things. But He still loves me. "While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" so I can never make His love more or less. It's always an ocean full. When I sit in the lamplight at night and just smile at Him, sometimes I feel a giant wave of that love wash over me. He doesn't love me more, He just simply loves me, and as He so passionately expresses in Hosea 11, His heart is turned over within Him, and it swells in mighty waves over us...He is so powerful!!! May you be awash in His love and not be able to do a thing about it!
Monday, June 4, 2007
New Life
Yesterday was such a happy day, that at the end of it I had to go outside and sing to God because I was about to burst. He has just filled my life with good things. New babies and rain and a church body to love and intergenerational friends and most of all His Body, broken for me, and His Blood, shed for me.
In the morning, we went and picked up Bronwyn and Clarky because their little brother was being born. When we got to the house we found out that he was already here! We carted off Bron and Clark anyway and enjoyed them all day. We had dear friends over for lunch and played Balderdash and Boggle. So. What do you think the real definition of "wedeln" is?
1. A bird that nests in the crevices of cliffs
2. An iron pot handle
3. A skiing technique
4. A mug
A Swedish petticoat
I dare you to guess. These were the definitions we came up with, but one of them is actually correct! And you're going, "who made up this word?"
When we took Bron and a very sleepy Clark home in the evening, we got to see and hold the new baby. His name, till further notice, is "We Don't Know Crowe." Holding him was miraculous. I could hardly breath; I wanted to cry. This warm, frowny, eight pound bundle is a little boy who's going to grow up and toddle around and run and play and learn to read just like the rest of his brothers. He's going to grow up into a great big man who loves Jesus and maybe share the gospel in Ukraine. He's real and he's beautiful and I get to hold him in my arms and watch him grow up. I have very strong "Aunt Cassie" feelings for this new "Croweling" already.
The best part of the day was communion. It's, sadly, strange for me to say that, because I've never truly appreciated communion. It's always been sort of a ritual that seemed solemn\borderline embarrassing because you have to walk up to the front of the church, etc. I try to not feel that way, because of course I love Jesus and I'm thankful for His sacrifice for me, but its just been an awkward thing.
Well, that all changed yesterday. I feel like a brand new Christian in some respects! Pastor Bud asked me to help serve communion. That's a new thing for our church and I hadn't helped do it before, though other youth had. He explained that we would hold the bread and juice, and people would come by in the line, each taking a piece of bread and dipping it in the cup. As they took the bread, the bread holder would say "the Body of Christ, broken for you," and as they dipped their bread in the juice, the cup bearer (I like that phrase!) would say "the blood of Christ, shed for you," while looking each individual in the eyes. Now I'm telling you- if I was nervous about going in a line up to the front to take communion, I was definitely quaking over serving it like that, and looking people in the eyes. Maybe it's my age, maybe my background, maybe my personality...I dunno. Maybe I was born for Indian culture. But I just have a hard time looking everybody square in the face and acting human in public. I guess it's called shyness. Not only that, but after Pastor Bud walked away, I realized that I had a lot more questions to ask him about communion, and that the service was starting now! I was unduly freaked out. But I tried to settle my heart before the Lord and just love Him during the worship service.
As usual, God proved to me that life is not as complicated as I thought. Pastor Bud demonstrated everything for us, giving the communion servers the elements first and saying "take, eat, and give thanks with joy." Then communion began. I was the "cup bearer." Suddenly all my fear melted away. I looked each person in the eyes (or sometimes at the eyes, if they were concentrating) and said the precious words: "the blood of Christ, shed for you." Each time I said it, it grew more real and just welled up in me. It dawned on me as each person passed how I really loved and cared for them as part of my church body, and how Christ's blood was for them personally and for all of us as a whole. How could I bear any grudge, judgement, or barrier with these brothers and sisters for whom Christ died? How can you help but love these people as they come to you and you say these words to them, and it hits you how much Jesus adores them and bled for them too. You see each sheep of His flock go by...the happy, the hurting, the hard, the tender. The young and old together. You stoop to let the little child reach in, you raise the cup to the really tall guys. You see the people you see across the aisle from you every week, and the people you pass in the hall. You see people you've never spoken to and people whose lives you know. You see their joys and pains, the vestiges of a week, written on their faces. Your heart cries out to the woman who just lost her husband, the girl with the beautiful, fearful face, the hardworking father of four. Children of light. By the end, my hands were shaking. I am so thankful for the privilege to serve communion like that! I went back to my seat with the words ringing in my consciousness "The Body of Christ, broken for you; the Blood of Christ, shed for you." For you! For you! I want to tell everyone I meet...it's for you! And I want to walk in that Newness of Life every day.
In the morning, we went and picked up Bronwyn and Clarky because their little brother was being born. When we got to the house we found out that he was already here! We carted off Bron and Clark anyway and enjoyed them all day. We had dear friends over for lunch and played Balderdash and Boggle. So. What do you think the real definition of "wedeln" is?
1. A bird that nests in the crevices of cliffs
2. An iron pot handle
3. A skiing technique
4. A mug
A Swedish petticoat
I dare you to guess. These were the definitions we came up with, but one of them is actually correct! And you're going, "who made up this word?"
When we took Bron and a very sleepy Clark home in the evening, we got to see and hold the new baby. His name, till further notice, is "We Don't Know Crowe." Holding him was miraculous. I could hardly breath; I wanted to cry. This warm, frowny, eight pound bundle is a little boy who's going to grow up and toddle around and run and play and learn to read just like the rest of his brothers. He's going to grow up into a great big man who loves Jesus and maybe share the gospel in Ukraine. He's real and he's beautiful and I get to hold him in my arms and watch him grow up. I have very strong "Aunt Cassie" feelings for this new "Croweling" already.
The best part of the day was communion. It's, sadly, strange for me to say that, because I've never truly appreciated communion. It's always been sort of a ritual that seemed solemn\borderline embarrassing because you have to walk up to the front of the church, etc. I try to not feel that way, because of course I love Jesus and I'm thankful for His sacrifice for me, but its just been an awkward thing.
Well, that all changed yesterday. I feel like a brand new Christian in some respects! Pastor Bud asked me to help serve communion. That's a new thing for our church and I hadn't helped do it before, though other youth had. He explained that we would hold the bread and juice, and people would come by in the line, each taking a piece of bread and dipping it in the cup. As they took the bread, the bread holder would say "the Body of Christ, broken for you," and as they dipped their bread in the juice, the cup bearer (I like that phrase!) would say "the blood of Christ, shed for you," while looking each individual in the eyes. Now I'm telling you- if I was nervous about going in a line up to the front to take communion, I was definitely quaking over serving it like that, and looking people in the eyes. Maybe it's my age, maybe my background, maybe my personality...I dunno. Maybe I was born for Indian culture. But I just have a hard time looking everybody square in the face and acting human in public. I guess it's called shyness. Not only that, but after Pastor Bud walked away, I realized that I had a lot more questions to ask him about communion, and that the service was starting now! I was unduly freaked out. But I tried to settle my heart before the Lord and just love Him during the worship service.
As usual, God proved to me that life is not as complicated as I thought. Pastor Bud demonstrated everything for us, giving the communion servers the elements first and saying "take, eat, and give thanks with joy." Then communion began. I was the "cup bearer." Suddenly all my fear melted away. I looked each person in the eyes (or sometimes at the eyes, if they were concentrating) and said the precious words: "the blood of Christ, shed for you." Each time I said it, it grew more real and just welled up in me. It dawned on me as each person passed how I really loved and cared for them as part of my church body, and how Christ's blood was for them personally and for all of us as a whole. How could I bear any grudge, judgement, or barrier with these brothers and sisters for whom Christ died? How can you help but love these people as they come to you and you say these words to them, and it hits you how much Jesus adores them and bled for them too. You see each sheep of His flock go by...the happy, the hurting, the hard, the tender. The young and old together. You stoop to let the little child reach in, you raise the cup to the really tall guys. You see the people you see across the aisle from you every week, and the people you pass in the hall. You see people you've never spoken to and people whose lives you know. You see their joys and pains, the vestiges of a week, written on their faces. Your heart cries out to the woman who just lost her husband, the girl with the beautiful, fearful face, the hardworking father of four. Children of light. By the end, my hands were shaking. I am so thankful for the privilege to serve communion like that! I went back to my seat with the words ringing in my consciousness "The Body of Christ, broken for you; the Blood of Christ, shed for you." For you! For you! I want to tell everyone I meet...it's for you! And I want to walk in that Newness of Life every day.
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