God has been teaching me so much lately.
After the summer, have been realizing that while at college I clang to the familiar and only pretended to delve into things that were different, only skimmed the surface of relationships that could have been deeper. This year, have been determined not to do that.
It all kind of began with moving off campus. Yes, this year five of us ladies are living in a house rented out to students involved in the Wesley foundation! Although I know all of them, I could only honestly say that I was close to two of the girls. Moving in a week early allowed me to get to know the other two girls better, through conversations and cooking and prayer.
As school began to get started back, God continued to provide me with opportunities to spend true time with people who had before not really bothered to try and get to know because I already had a "group of friends," not feeling as if I should invest in other people. How foolish this mentality was! God has such a creativeness, allowing each of us to express an ego, a self, and to do so in such a way that imperfectly reflects His image. Cutting myself off from potential relationships was severing my chance to see God and to love as He calls us to. Thank You Lord for giving more grace, for not leaving me in that rut!
With that being said, there are several people who He has obviously called me to love this semester. It was so hard before because I was relying on myself, trying to draw on some fictitious source of love that existed in me apart from Him. As God called me to love more, began to see that this was going to be quite impossible without His help (duh!) and that the only way to pour out was to know the Source. He's been teaching me to call on the Spirit, God within, for help and strength.
It's been hard for sure. Although it has been AMAZING to experience these new, deeper relationships, at the same time it's hard to feel more distant from those who I used to feel closest to. And now is the kicker: contentment. God's been teaching me more and more to let Him in, to see You, Jesus, as my Friend and Companion. I am never alone, never deprived of One who knows me more intimately than I even know myself. Growing closer to You, Jesus, has been a beautiful and difficult journey, but for the first time it feels real. You are showing me more and more how to love, how to be loved, how to live. Most of all, am learning how to cherish time with You and to simply be in Your presence - to truly seek You above all else: above other people, above my to-do list, above what I'll eat or do next.
Comfort has come from:
Matthew 6:34.
the story of Mary Magdalene.
numerous Psalms.
"Spanish Pipedream," as covered by The Avett Brothers.
"Farther Along," by Josh Garrels.
Some advice from a dear Friend.
Dear Lord, please keep tearing down these walls as You alone see fit.
"Further Up, Further In, and Farther Along."
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
must love dogs.
I have always been a "cat" person.
Growing up, it was not uncommon for our family to have anywhere from five to fifteen cats at one time, all of them living outside of course. When we moved to our new house about five years ago, Dad finally got us a dog. Needless to say, this precious puppy grew into an excited, overwhelming dog, and for a long time I have struggled with loving her as I love my wonderful cats.
This morning I was sitting outside trying to soak up some Creation/Creator time, and lo and behold Manny (dog) wanders up. At first I was admittedly annoyed, wanting to be alone and at peace with the pine trees instead of having to ward off the inevitable licking and rubbing and smell that Manny brings with her. BUT, something God has been teaching me lately is to see Manny as He sees her, to see her as His Creation. I have never really thought about dogs, or even cats for that matter, as God's Creation. He made her just the way she is for a purpose, and to wish her any differently is kind of an insult to God. Those verses in 1 John came to mind, 4:20-21, that say: "If someone says, 'I love God,' and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen, how can he love God whom he has not seen? And this is the commandment we have from Him: that he who loves God must love his brother also."
Sitting in the shade with Manny, God taught me to love her as much as I love Misty or Midnight or Merlin or Lynno or Simba. How can I say I love God's Work when I don't even try to love this sweet dog right in front of me? After years of avoidance and annoyance, am finally learning to love Manny for who she is, licking and all. We sat for a while under that pine tree, God showing me all the while how much Manny points to Him, how she can teach me so much about how we are supposed to love our Master.
Thanks, Lord, for teaching me always. For breaking my stubbornness. For creating DOGS.
 |
| MANNY. |
"FURTHER UP AND FURTHER IN."
Friday, August 3, 2012
reality check.
Summer is a magical time.
For a few months out of the year, we can do all of the things that never seem to fit into the space of our "normal" lives. People read books, spend lazy days at the pool, go on craft kicks (if you're my mother). For me, the last three summers have been spent in a place that can only be compared to Neverland or Narnia or some other fictional place that you've only read or dreamed about: a wonderful little summer camp down a winding Mississippi backroad. For about ten weeks, I am blessed to live where kids and sunshine are staples to life. Where the pool is your shower. Where wasp stings are somewhat unavoidable and where air conditioning is unheard of. This little camp holds my heart, and I cannot tell you of another place that I have found such Christian community or have learned so much about relationships or God or pole beans...
And after that tenth week, it's over. And you're back home around t.v. and air conditioning and fast food and strip malls. And it's almost as if those ten weeks were a dream. This summer it hit harder than ever, coming back from camp, because it was probably the most difficult I've ever experienced.. and yet it was also the one that God brought me the farthest on in so many ways. He taught me what it's like to be in real relationships with people, about love and hope and faith and peace. He showed me how extensive His Creation is - from the highest mountains to the lowest caves. He taught me to question things that are, that just because it is doesn't mean it should be.
These past few days I've been asking myself a lot of questions. Usually when the summer ends, we step back into the "real" world and don the clothing of our "normal" life again. Sure, some habits like recycling may stick, but for the most part things go back to the way they were. But WHY IS THAT? When was it determined that this is real life and that is not, this is how things are done and that is just an idea to entertain? Well, I'm tired of making that distinction. My reality is not what it has been, no, no longer.
The things that define my reality are:
6 hour bus rides with smelly junior high boys.
the taste of fresh tomatoes and peppers from a garden in your own backyard.
bare feet on smooth wood.
geese landing on a lake in the morning.
fresh meat from local farmers.
bracelets made with love.
love that comes from God.
community.
bright, joyful colors.
poems by Wendell Berry.
flowing skirts.
dog breath.
dirt.
mud puddles.
camp fires and honey and granola.
hand-written letters.
rain on a tin roof.
frisbee.
tent poles.
my family.
In a few days I'll be moving back for my last year of college as an undergraduate...
I'm eagerly awaiting the chance to be back amongst the things that are familiar, yet determined that they do not remain the same. So much has changed this summer.
In The Magician's Nephew by C.S. Lewis, there's a place called "The Wood Between The Worlds." The main characters of the story happen across this place while on some of their adventures. It's a place where the only things that happen are the trees continue to grow - nothing else lives there, only the soft blades of grass and the shade trees, but from that place one can access all of the other "worlds". As one character described it, the wood was not where the real living took place. For me, the real living takes place at camp, and the in-between place has been the other nine months of the year. However, this is not the way it should be. It's time to let what we do at camp fill the streets. Lord, I'm praying for boldness and courage and help, so much help, to not slip back into sameness, to make my reality real again.
"Suppose we did our work
like the snow, quietly, quietly,
leaving nothing out."
-w.b.
may we all be sincerely, thankfully progressing,
"further UP and further IN."
For a few months out of the year, we can do all of the things that never seem to fit into the space of our "normal" lives. People read books, spend lazy days at the pool, go on craft kicks (if you're my mother). For me, the last three summers have been spent in a place that can only be compared to Neverland or Narnia or some other fictional place that you've only read or dreamed about: a wonderful little summer camp down a winding Mississippi backroad. For about ten weeks, I am blessed to live where kids and sunshine are staples to life. Where the pool is your shower. Where wasp stings are somewhat unavoidable and where air conditioning is unheard of. This little camp holds my heart, and I cannot tell you of another place that I have found such Christian community or have learned so much about relationships or God or pole beans...
And after that tenth week, it's over. And you're back home around t.v. and air conditioning and fast food and strip malls. And it's almost as if those ten weeks were a dream. This summer it hit harder than ever, coming back from camp, because it was probably the most difficult I've ever experienced.. and yet it was also the one that God brought me the farthest on in so many ways. He taught me what it's like to be in real relationships with people, about love and hope and faith and peace. He showed me how extensive His Creation is - from the highest mountains to the lowest caves. He taught me to question things that are, that just because it is doesn't mean it should be.
These past few days I've been asking myself a lot of questions. Usually when the summer ends, we step back into the "real" world and don the clothing of our "normal" life again. Sure, some habits like recycling may stick, but for the most part things go back to the way they were. But WHY IS THAT? When was it determined that this is real life and that is not, this is how things are done and that is just an idea to entertain? Well, I'm tired of making that distinction. My reality is not what it has been, no, no longer.
The things that define my reality are:
6 hour bus rides with smelly junior high boys.
the taste of fresh tomatoes and peppers from a garden in your own backyard.
bare feet on smooth wood.
geese landing on a lake in the morning.
fresh meat from local farmers.
bracelets made with love.
love that comes from God.
community.
bright, joyful colors.
poems by Wendell Berry.
flowing skirts.
dog breath.
dirt.
mud puddles.
camp fires and honey and granola.
hand-written letters.
rain on a tin roof.
frisbee.
tent poles.
my family.
In a few days I'll be moving back for my last year of college as an undergraduate...
I'm eagerly awaiting the chance to be back amongst the things that are familiar, yet determined that they do not remain the same. So much has changed this summer.
In The Magician's Nephew by C.S. Lewis, there's a place called "The Wood Between The Worlds." The main characters of the story happen across this place while on some of their adventures. It's a place where the only things that happen are the trees continue to grow - nothing else lives there, only the soft blades of grass and the shade trees, but from that place one can access all of the other "worlds". As one character described it, the wood was not where the real living took place. For me, the real living takes place at camp, and the in-between place has been the other nine months of the year. However, this is not the way it should be. It's time to let what we do at camp fill the streets. Lord, I'm praying for boldness and courage and help, so much help, to not slip back into sameness, to make my reality real again.
"Suppose we did our work
like the snow, quietly, quietly,
leaving nothing out."
-w.b.
may we all be sincerely, thankfully progressing,
"further UP and further IN."
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