What I love.

I've spent this whole past week saying goodbye to some of the people I love most in this world. But today, I think, hurt most of all.

Today was my last day of work. 

And I have the best job in the world.

Over the past few years I have been so incredibly immensely blessed to get to spend several hours a week teaching some of the most wonderful kids to play an instrument I've fallen in love with. Teaching piano has been my dream job, something I've loved from the day I started and have never stopped loving.

Altogether, I've taught piano to over 20 kids. I can't even begin to tell you all the things these kids have taught me, or the impact they've had on my life. They've helped me learn things like patience. Like how to be encouraging yet firm. How to be a good teacher, to make the confusing understandable. How to make learning bar lines and measures interesting, enjoyable even.  How to be flexibile.

They've taught me about sports (I finally learned that baseball games don't have an intermission after multiple elementary-school boys rolled their eyes at me. Yes. Thanks to them I now know the meaning of a "Seventh-inning stretch"). They've taught me creativity (who knew that Musical Mother May I could be one one of the most effective ways to master new notes?). They've taught me how to run a business (juggling my own schedule plus the crazy schedules of multiple children? Sending out regular studio update emails to parents? Doing my own accounting, keeping track of everyone's bills? Learning marketing techniques to get new students? Things I definitely wouldn't have learned otherwise). They've fostered my sense of humor, helped me laugh at myself.  And most of all, they've taught me joy. I just can't not be happy after teaching one of these guys a lesson. They are just soo enthusiastic.

("I love piano I shouted on the mountain!")

I would be happy if my students had half as much fun learning as I have teaching them. I get so much joy and fulfillment out of teaching. The kids are so funny, I absolutely love spending time with them. They let me into their lives for a half hour every week. They tell me how their week went. They get so excited and proud when they master a new song. They put their own touches into each piece they play. I get to learn about their individual personalities and how to help them learn best, and I get to try to think like them and look at music through their eyes and figure out new ways to teach them things. It is one of the best gifts I've been given, to have these kids looking up to me and to be able to give them just a little part of me and to hopefully help them see how wonderful music really is and how enjoyable it can be.

And trust me, we have a lot of fun in the process. I don't know if I ever laugh as much as I do while I'm teaching. The kids love to make fun of my utter lack of sports knowlege, my horrible drawing skills, the way I always forget the date.

I love it when they come to a lesson soo excited because they practiced a lot this week and they know I'll be so proud. Or when their moms tell me they won a contest at their school because they knew so much about the different music periods and composers. Or when they go home and teach their whole family everything they've just learned about time signiatures. Or when they write their own song and bring it to the lesson, every note precisely placed on an oh-so-carefully drawn staff.

I'm so proud of all of them. I'll miss them all so much. And my heart almost broke in two today when 7 of my current students and I had a final group lesson, and everyone was giving me cards and flowers and hug after hug and telling me, "I'll miss you so much, Miss Alaina," and not believing me when I told them the absolute truth, that, "I'll miss you more!"

 So to my absolutely wonderful piano teacher of 10 years who has spent so much time giving me her expert advice on piano teaching, introducing me to fabulous curriculum, always so wisely answering all my questions, and giving me everything from business tips to piano magazines to books for my students...

To my parents who have so generously allowed their den to become a piano studio complete with shelves of books and a giant whiteboard and have listened to Old-MacDonald, Row-Row-Row Your Boat, Hot Cross Buns, and so many others countless times...

To the very first neighbor mom who so very bravely let my middle-school-aged, very inexperienced self teach her daughter piano, just for fun (never once thinking that I'd take more students or that eventually, this would be my job)....

Thank you. I've been so blessed.

Without Words

“Preach always, use words when necessary.”

 

Behind me is a gang building. Broken glass litters the sidewalk, bullet holes decorate the windows and doors, gang symbols, names, and foul language are scribbled on every brick. We are in the middle of inner-city St. Louis, poverty abounds. Last night I talked to a homeless man who told me the secret of staying warm on the streets in winter. I ate breakfast with a well-educated lady who used to teach study-skills classes and now relies on a soup kitchen’s grits and turkey sandwiches for her daily bread. I just gave a piggy back ride to a 5-year old little girl who is the main caretaker of her 14-year old sister’s 1-month-old baby boy. And that sweet boy who keeps trying to hold my hand tells me everyone hates him because he’s fat. He gets McDonald’s for dinner every night. He’s 7 years old and weighs 130 pounds. He keeps coughing up stuff, I wonder if he’s been to the doctor.
It’s the picture of poverty and sadness, yet around me, I see joy.

So much joy, in fact, that even though it must be 100 degrees out and I’ve given more piggy back rides in a day than I thought humanly possible and I’m so exhausted I almost fall asleep while eating my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I just can’t stop smiling.

In the field in front of the broken-down building, Keigan has given a little boy his hat and the kid is running around with a gleeful smile on his face. Another boy wears Sarabeth’s sunglasses with a look of pride. Mr. Vinstra has two little boys on his back, all 3 are laughing, so happy. I tell a girl she has beautiful hair and her face lights up. Shelby lifts up a little boy and he lays his head on her shoulder. My youth group has come to St. Louis to give all the love we can to these kids, kids who are sometimes hard to love, who scream nasty words at each other, stick their finger out when they get annoyed, constantly get in fistfights. But these little boys and girls who are so thirsty for love, so deprived of it, somehow return the love we give them and multiply it a hundred times. When they see us every day, they scream and run toward us and hug us and won’t let go. They just want to sit in our laps and hold our hands and play with our hair and have us carry them. They call us by name. They offer to fill my water bottle and carry my bag. Every day, they don’t want to say goodbye to us. On the last day they cry, won’t go back inside because they don’t want to stop hugging us. We don’t want to stop hugging them either, and we cry, too.

No, we weren’t quoting Bible verses or sharing our testimonies this week, but sometimes actions speak louder than words. Sometimes showing a child the first love they’ve seen-- the first gentleness in the midst of anger, patience in the face of frustration—can impact more deeply than any sermon could.

And isn’t this so often true in our lives?  Sometimes I think we compartmentalize our Christian life—“There’s no way to bring up Christ in this situation, so I guess I don’t need to witness,” or “I can’t spend more than a little time in prayer each morning, so I guess I won’t be able to pray for all these prayer requests.” But shouldn’t living for Christ be more than just actions? It’s not about how many people you can witness to our how long you can spend in prayer every morning. Although these things are extremely important, we call ourselves Christians because we want to be “little Christs,” to live as Jesus lived, in everything. Yes, evangelize with words, spend time on your knees in prayer. But live like this all the time. Sometimes we can witness best by giving a piggy back ride. Sometimes the most fervent prayer time comes while cleaning the bathroom.  

It’s a lifestyle.

We get this crazy love from God and we are loved to love and we give that love to others and I've never been so blessed.

“So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” ~1 Corinthians 10:31

Surprised by Joy

"She said she usually cried at least once each day not because she was sad, but because the world was so beautiful and life was so short.”           {Brian Andreas}

Dear God,

Thank You for little girls

who paint polka-dots on my toes
For a mom and dad,
who've been married 22 years today
For summer days
made for wearing white capris
For dearest friends
with whom I could never tire of talking.

Thank you for notes so sweet

I cry tears of beauty
For swinging on park swings
eating bakery cookies with a lifelong friend
For summer days
of picnics and waterparks
For buying dorm supplies
and growing more and more excited for a brand new life

For laying awake at night

so filled with joy I can do nothing but write down praise

Thank You for a new month
in which to explore more of Your daily mercies
For Sunday afternoons
meant for swimming in lake with dear neighbors
For hundreds of voices
raised in highest praise to Lord of all, forgetting all else

For the fresh smell of a brand new planner

in which to record the never-ending adventures contained in each new week.

Thank you for sweet emails

from a future friend

For finishing countless thank-you notes
to dear friends who left heartfelt notes and generous gifts
For lively discussions with friends
which encourage my faith
For little black dresses
made for happy red-headed girls in July

Thank You for good talks
with dearly-loved friends
For red white and blue nails
painted by a little girl who sees the joy in everything
For sweet snappeas
eaten over dinner with joyful family
For pool full of happy friends
basking in freedom and fellowship and sunshine
For man so frail carrying flag in parade
who fought for my freedom

 Thank You for uncle and cousin

leaning close over castle in sand

For flocks of seagulls

flying cross sunset
For bare toes
digging deep in wet sand
For singing oldies loud on beach
with family

 Thank You for nestling under white sheets in bright-lit bunked

writing praise

For little boy in blue goggles

giggling as he splashes in sun-kissed waves

For the simple joy

of snapping pictures of heaven-sent beauty

For summer mornings spent on bright red rocking chair

reading C.S. Lewis

Thank you for summer nights

curled in lamp-lit bunk bed

For the evident love

of a young husband and wife

For texting my best friend

of the beauty in today

For campfires with family

on a lake Michigan beach, watching the sunset

For a tiny poodle

with sand up her nose.

Surprised by joy. This is how I want to live each day. Knowing I am small, expecting nothing, but overwhelmed by the grace, the endless gifts, of my big God. Finding joy in things I too often overlook. Choosing to live my life as a constant prayer of thanks to my Savior. Not just when it's 4th of July or I'm on vacation or when things seem to be going well, but even on days when life seems like a train wreck.

"So our hope is in the Lord.

He is our help, our shield to protect us.

We rejoice in Him,

because we trust His holy name.

Lord, show Your love to us

As we put our hope in You."

 ~Psalm 30:20-22

I'm finding that sometimes when life isn't perfect, when I have to trust, put my hope in Him alone, His love is most evident. When I fully rely on Him, open up to His grace, search for His gifts, I am surprised, overwhelmed.

I want to live my life an endless prayer of thanks.

(AWESOME video--watch til the end)

On Too Long Days

These days, time moves slow, too slow. I have bad dreams and I wake up tired and then the day starts and the house is falling down around me and how will I ever get this mold-smell out of the basement for my open house and I feel unprepared for the VBS lesson I'm supposed to teach tomorrow and pictures keep falling off my display board and I don't have time for this and my friend's too busy to talk to me and we don't have the kind of bread I like and I squabble with my mom about something that doesn't matter and will this day ever end?

And sometimes I wonder why this is happening to me, these things, rotting house and no insurance and unsteady income and broken down car. These things don't happen to Alaina, girl of big white house on lake and happy family and large closet full of clothes. These things happen to far-distant people I meet on mission trips and mail checks to.

Yes, it all seems unreal right now, and yes, in the midst of long days I let myself get stressed and frustrated and I don't act at all like one should act who's bought with the grace of Christ Jesus and I am ashamed and discouraged.

Yet, daily, I see Him in this. In the way He led me to carefully learn joy in small things right before I needed it in the big. In the encouragement, kind words, prayers, offers of help, and even bouquets of flowers from so many dear friends. In verse after verse I read in His word about His plans, in how I find Him to be Enough, even now.

“Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without cost. 
Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
and you will delight in the richest of fare.

 Give ear and come to me;
listen, that you may live.
I will make an everlasting covenant with you,
my faithful love promised to David. 
See, I have made him a witness to the peoples,
a ruler and commander of the peoples.
Surely you will summon nations you know not,
and nations you do not know will come running to you,
because of the Lord your God,
the Holy One of Israel,
for he has endowed you with splendor.”

Seek the Lord while he may be found;
call on him while he is near.

 Let the wicked forsake their ways
and the unrighteous their thoughts.
Let them turn to the Lord, and he will have mercy on them,
and to our God, for he will freely pardon.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts. 
As the rain and the snow
come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,  
so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.

You will go out in joy
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
will clap their hands.  
Instead of the thornbush will grow the juniper,
and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
This will be for the Lord’s renown,
for an everlasting sign,
that will endure forever.”
~Isaiah 55

I have found Him, this God of wisdom and purpose and faithfulness, over and over again in these too long days, and have been refreshed in Him. I've learned so many wonderful new things about Him, and have been awed again and again by Him, and yes, have even been filled with His joy.

How perfect are His ways, how unendingly glad I am to know Him.

I'm closing with a story I found on Ann Voksamp's wonderful, wonderful blog, aholyexperience.com. I hope you'll share it with anyone else you know who's living too-long days right now.

A white stallion had rode into the paddocks of an old man and all the villagers had congratulated him on such good fortune.

And the old man had only offered this: “Is it a curse or a blessing? All we can see is a sliver. Who can see what will come next?”

When the white horse ran off, the townsfolk were convinced the white stallion had been a curse. The old man lived surrendered and satisfied in the will of God alone: “I cannot see as He sees.”

And when the horse returned with a dozen more horses, the townsfolk declared it a blessing, yet the old man said only, “It is as He wills and I give thanks for His will.”

Then the man’s only son broke his leg when thrown from the white stallion. The town folk all bemoaned the bad fortune of that white stallion. And the old man had only offered, “We’ll see. We’ll see. It is as He wills and I give thanks for His will.”

When a draft for a war took all the young men off to battle but the son with the broken leg, the villagers all proclaimed the good fortune of that white horse. And the old man said but this, “We see only a sliver of the sum. We cannot see how the bad might be good. God is sovereign and He is good and He sees and work all things together for good.”

How He's shown me this the past few weeks: All is grace. And in too-long days, how glad I am to know how much bigger than me He is.

The Here & Now

I roll out of bed this morning early and we make a special birthday breakfast for my mom. I am already all gloriously-happy from sweet time with family and cinnamon rolls and strawberries when I open the window and discover that today is the perfect bike-riding day. So after the dishes are done I'm out the door pedaling along the path I've pedaled so many times before. Yet today is especially glorious: and I can't help noticing little intricacies I too often miss: the way spring-morning air smells like roses, and how fluffy white clouds make delicate curlycues in bright blue sky, and the little flutterings of tiny yellow godfinch in a pink-blossom rose bush. And I smile the whole ride, thank my Jesus for these little blessings.

Suddenly I remember something, something rather absent-mindedly forgotten in the midst of birthday-celebrating and blessing-counting: Today is Memorial Day.

And in the midst of rose-smell and blue sky and yellow birds, I stop smiling. Men, young men, are fighting right now. Dying for me. Dying so I can have this bike ride. So I can notice flowers. So I can live life free.

Suddenly, I feel ashamed of my joy, of my happy little bike ride. Joy, yes, easy for me today, girl living in wealthy America, free to spend her day as she chooses, to spend her life as she chooses. Girl whose worst problems are stress and arguments. But if I lived as those men, soldiers, do? A world where daily I must watch my friends, brothers, die around me? A world where I must kill another woman's brother, friend, husband? Could I possibly be joyful, find blessings, then?

I, fragile girl, girl who can't bear to watch her dog get a shot at the vet, who gets queasy at the site of roller coasters, whose knees shake every time she gives a speech, joy might be difficult there, on a battlefield.

This answer, my own fragility in joy, dismays me. My own struggle to find joy seems so childlike in comparison to the quest others must make.

Yet, I realize something. Because this world is broken, full of sorrow and death, should I be broken also? My Jesus commands joy, and this joy, joy in my Savior, is what will heal a broken world, not more brokenness.

Rejecting joy to stand in solidarity with the suffering doesn’t rescue the suffering. The converse does. The brave who focus on all things good and all things beautiful and all things true, even in the small, who give thanks for it and discover joy even in the here and now, they are the change agents who bring fullest Light to all the world.

~Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts (page 58)

 This is my Here and Now, a world of bike rides and freedom and flowers. What an incredible gift, to be able to learn joy here. My task is to be faithful here, to practice joy daily. And through this, my Jesus will prepare my heart for joy in a world of bigger brokenness, a world where fragile me is at the end of herself. I trust in His promise to prepare the hearts of those faithful in small tasks:

You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. ~Mathew 25:21

My job is the Here and Now.

Eyes wide open

*This post was inspired by probably the most beautiful book I've ever read, Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts, which I just finished reading*

Today, I wake smiling. The sweet chirping of birds drifts through my window, I read a chapter of Lord of the Rings while I eat the parfait-and-toast breakfast my sweet momma prepared for me,  I plant little pink Impatiens, cool brown earth on my fingers, and wind through my hair. I wear my favorite shirt, look forward to a weekend up north with family….Today, joy is easy to find, always waiting for me.

Today, I want to live long. I write Bucket Lists, laid carefully on my desk. Ride a gondola in Venice, see the Eifel Tower…there is so much I want to do, so many things to see.

Today, I get to live.

Isn’t that enough to inspire joy in me?

Yet ever the  daily struggle of Now, not often as joy-filled as today….Now where I can’t see beauty, only unfinished schoolwork, high school drama, petty conflicts….and too often I wake frowning, dreading the day to come. Now where mommas in Africa watch their babies starve to death, where little children are abused, where fathers with many mouths to feed die from cancer. Now where often, all I can see is life’s disappointments.

In Philippians 4:11-12, Paul writes, “I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything.  I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little.” Joy is not just something we find on good days. Joy, thankfulness, must be learned, practiced, daily, in the good and the bad, in the disappointments.

Here dies another day
During which I have had eyes, ears, hands
And the great world round me;
And with tomorrow begins another.
Why am I allowed two?
~GK Chesterton

This living, this is grace. Why do I feel I must see the splendor of Venice and Paris to fully grasp the world’s magnificence? His grace is here, now, in little pink Impatients and a momma humbly serving. In receiving another day to live! I am still learning to recognize grace, to feel joy, on days without flowers and favorite shirts. On days of clouds and arguments and stress. He is always God, and isn’t His grace also evident in chances of new mercies and the healing of brokenness?

All is grace. Praying without ceasing is praying with eyes wide open, looking for this grace, thanking Him for it. Won't you join me, with eyes open wide?

A Trail of Blood

My heart thuds and my palms fill with sweat as I sit on the hard church pew, watching a video about Sarah, the editor of a Chinese Christian newspaper. One night, soldiers seize Sarah from her home, drag her to an abandoned warehouse, and beat her severely. While Sarah screams in agony, the soldiers mercilessly burn her with a cigarette butt and force her to spend the night in chains, shuffling around the warehouse, leaving behind a trail of blood. Sarah endures six years of imprisonment in a dark and lonely cell, forced to manufacture American Christmas tree lights, “Christian” baubles made by a persecuted Christian.

In America, we joyfully string Sarah’s lights on our trees to celebrate Christ’s birth. In China, Sarah sits in a lonely prison cell, humbly thanking her Savior for leaving a trail of blood, much like her own, on His way to die on the cross.

This is the kind of faith I want. The kind of faith that astonisheds people: “Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated, common men, they were astonished. And they recognized that they had been with Jesus” (Acts 4:13).

Yet how often do I hesitate to share the gospel with my friends, for fear they’ll think less of me? And how often would I rather sleep in an hour later than get up to read my Bible? And how often do I want to stay home and finish my homework rather than go to youth group?

In myself, I can’t live a Sarah kind of life. In myself, I don’t have the strength to endure such pain and still praise God. And in myself, I certainly can’t astonish people with my boldness. Yet:

It really is an astounding truth that the Spirit of Him who raised us from the dead lives in you. He lives in me. I do not know what the Spirit will do or where He’ll lead me each time I invite Him to guide me. But I am tired of living in a way that looks exactly like people who do not have the Holy Spirit of God living in them. I want to consistently live with an awareness of His strength. I want to be different today from what I was yesterday as the fruit of the Spirit becomes more manifest in me.

~Francis Chan, Forgotten God

God lives in us!! You and I probably won’t be seized from our homes tonight and brutally tortured. Yet, shouldn’t people be astounded by evidence of the Spirit in Christians,  not just when we make trails of blood on warehouse floors, but when we make history projects or make dinner?  

“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought with a price” (1 Cor. 6:19-20).

[Sarah's video--Disclaimer: this is an incredibly poignant video, but if you watch it, prepare to be horrified at the hideous torture this brave young woman endures. ]

Stuck in the small stuff

I haven't blogged in over a month. Mostly because I've been spending way too much time sitting at my desk, hunched over textbooks and Word documents. Sometimes I think school is overtaking me.

In my morning quiet time with God, I say, "I'm going to do better today, Lord. I'm going to rest in You, serve you, build my day around You."

But then the day starts, and there's synthesis essays to be written, government exams to be studied for, piano sonatas to be learned, solo and ensemble practices to attend, lessons to be taught, and French words to be memorized. And I think, How can I rest in God when I can barely rest long enough to eat dinner with my family? And how can I serve Him when I can't find the time to help make lunch? And how can I build my day around Him when my schedule is filled from the moment I wake up til the moment I go to sleep?

I start getting discouraged, thinking this life is a milisecond compared to eternity, and wondering, "will getting an A on my synthesis essay really matter in eternity, or even next year?"

Last night at youth group, we watched an amazing Francis Chan Bible study lesson about being missionaries. Sometimes, we think we have to do big things, like travelling Africa to serve orphans, to be missionaries for God. But as followers of God, when we surrender each day to Him, we can be missionaries right where we are, in whatever we're doing. I want to wake up each morning and say, "God, thank You for this day. Thank you for the opportunity to learn, for the opportunity to sing, for the opportunity to teach. Help me to do EVERYTHING in this day to Your glory." Right now, in the last few weeks before school ends, I can worship Him by taking advantage of the education He's given me, doing my best work, and being well-prepared to do whatever He has for me later in life. I can worship Him by encouraging my students and instilling in them a joy of learning music. I can worship Him in every note I sing. I can worship Him by expressing my gratitude to my teachers and my family. These aren't big acts of service, but if I do them with a heart surrendered to Him, a heart resting in His joy, they're still worship to Him.

I've always been ambitious to a fault, and it's hard for me not to be able to do something "big" for God right now. But for me right now, surrendering to Him in the small things is big.

God has a purpose for each of us, every day. For some people today, that purpose is serving orphans in Africa. For others, it's showing God's love to their children and their co-workers. For me, it's writing every synthesis essay, teaching every piano lesson, singing every song for His glory. How awesome to be able to worship the King of the Universe today, in those little things?!

"Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God." ~ 1 Cor. 10:31

Jars of Clay

[Disclaimers--First, No, this post is not about "Jars of Clay" the band. Although their music is quite epic and I strongly suggest you listen to it :). Second, it was inspired by my LifeChange: 2 Tim. Bible study and the final quote is from my Life Application Bible :)]

“In a large house there are articles not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay; some are for noble puposes and some ignoble. If a man cleanses himself from the latter, he will be an instrument for noble purposes. Made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work.” ~ 2 Timothy 2: 20-21

We are jars of clay. Sinful and imperfect vessels. Yet the King of the Universe desires to use us for His purposes. Isn’t it awesome to think that Jesus can use our lives—and use them for something truly unbelievable, beyond ourselves?!

                             Google Images

As overjoyed as we should be to allow God to use us for his purposes, sometimes we nurture attitudes that stymie the work of God's grace in us. For example:

-Trying to be justified by the law (Galations 5:4). Aka self-righteousness….thinking ourselves or something other than God's saving grace can make us right in God’s sight.
-Timidity (Hebrews 4:6). Doubting God can work through us.
-Pride (1 Peter 5:5). Trying to do things our own way, instead of surrendering to His Spirit.

Yes, these attitudes seem self-centered, but also painfully familiar. I can make myself right. I don't think God can work through me. I can fix this better than God can.

But doesn't it seem like the only appropriate response to God’s working in us is the opposite of self-centerdness--humility? Shouldn’t the knowledge of His work in us bring us to our knees and make us say, “Do whatever you want in me and through me, Lord”? Yet, unfortunately, sometimes God-centeredness is oh-so-much harder than it sounds.  

Now, sometimes (or shall we say often?) I struggle with pride (see my post, A Color-Coded Life). And as much as I prefer to call it independence, or efficiency, or something to that effect, that's really quite inaccurately euphemistic. I try to do things on my own, convincing myself that my planning or organization or color-codedness will fix all my problems. Yet somehow that never really works for me. It's when I come to the end of myself and realize I do a sloppy job of making myself right and I surrender to Jesus that things really start changing. In fact, when I surrender things to Him, they start becoming really and truly beautiful and working out in ways beyond what I could have imagined. How awesome to think that when I surrender to Him, He can use me, this cracked and flawed jar of clay, for glorious purposes, too.

"We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves." ~ 2 Corinthians 4:7

As one of my all-time favorite verses (Ps. 18:35) says, "You stoop down to make me great!" How awesome is that?! The focus is not on the perishable container, but on its priceless contents.

 

You Take My Breath Away

Recently I was talking to a friend who grew up in a Christian family but had wandered down a very wrong path for several years. He said the reason he didn’t come back to God sooner was because he was afraid God wouldn’t forgive him for all the terrible things he’d done. But I love what he said about why he eventually returned to God: "I read that verse about God removing our sins from us as far as the east as from the west, and I realized, once you start going east, you just keep going! You never start going west. I realized God just loves me for me.” Our Savior loves us for us. How awesome is that?! His love is infinite, not dependedent on anything we've done or haven't done. The King of the universe looks at us and sees His beautiful creations, His children, His friends.

Sometimes I think, having grown up a Christian family and heard the doctrine of God’s love and forgiveness so often, I've lost a little bit of the absolute awe that His love should instill in me. His love is so much more than anything this world has to offer. His love should take my breath away, it is so incredibly, unimaginably beautiful that when God looks at me He sees His pure and spotless Son Jesus, not all the junk and sin in my life.

I want to have this love of Jesus. I want to look at people and not see their ourtward appearance or their accomplishments or their faults. I want to see a child infinitely loved by God.  

     I am the thorn in Your crown
But You love me anyway
I am the sweat from Your brow
But You love me anyway
I am the nail in Your wrist
But You love me anyway
I am Judas’ kiss
But You love me anyway

  "You Love Me Anyway" Sidewalk Prophets (my all-time favorite song :)

Official "You are More" music video

Live Like That

Sometimes I think
What will people say of me
When I'm only just a memory
When I'm home where my soul belongs

Was I love
When no one else would show up
Was I Jesus to the least of those
Was my worship more than just a song

I want to live like that

Am I proof
That You are who you say You are
That grace can really change a heart
Do I live like Your love is true

People pass
And even if they don't know my name
Is there evidence that I've been changed
When they see me, do they see You

I want to live like that

I want to show the world the love You gave for me
I'm longing for the world to know the glory of the King

I want to live like that
And give it all I have
So that everything I say and do
Points to You

If love is who I am
Then this is where I'll stand
Recklessly abandoned
Never holding back

I want to live like that

~"Live Like That," Sidewalk Prophets

 I've always been ambitious. For as long as I can remember, I've been coming up with various business ventures (before I was ten I'd attempted to open a dog grooming shop, start an ice cream truck, and buy a patent for the vacuum cleaner), and I told my mom recently that I don't know what it feels like to be bored--she confirmed that even as a little girl I could always find something to do. Planning events, working to achieve academic success, trying to invent an instant-sunscreen machine--I am always aiming at something, for better or for worse.

I want to be this intense about my walk with Christ. I want to wake up every morning and say, "Okay, God, I know I'm alive today because You have a specific purpose for me, and I'm determined to fulfill it to the best of my abilities." Yet too often, I get so swept up in my own agenda and my own immediate results that I neglect the far greater purpose laid out for me. How incredible is it to know that the God of the Universe wants to use me today?! My day and my life should be centered on fulfilling the work He's laid out for me.

Recently I've been studying 2 Timothy with my Bible study group, and we learned that we must be prepared to preach the gospel "in season and out of season" (4:2). What a great reminder that we can serve God in any circumstance, day in and day out. After the newly saved Chuck Colson was sentenced to prison for his involvement in Watergate, he said, "What happened in court today was the court's will and the Lord's will--I have committed my life to Jesus Christ and I can work for Him in prison as well as out." After several months of seeing God work through him in prison, Colson prayed, "Lord, if this is what it is all about, then I thank You. I praise You for leaving me in prison, for letting them take away my license to practice law, yes--even for my son being arrested. I praise You for giving me Your love through these men, for being God, for just letting me walk with Jesus." This is surrender. Freedom in the midst of prison. Joy in the midst of pain. Realizing God can use you anywhere.

I want to live like that.

I Started this Week Flat on My Face....

(Project 31, Day 6..if you haven't noticed, I'm not going in order here. :)

...Literally. I'd watched some Christian friends who I respected and loved go down a path of worldliness. I was dismayed and discouraged, knocked flat by the jaded beauty and the messed-up priorities that infiltrate our world, wondering how people can change so quickly. I felt utterly helpless, and let's face it: organized, overly-planned me definitely does not like feeling helpless. When I did Beth Moore's wonderful Bible study Stepping Up a couple summers ago, I learned to pray prostrated in utter humility before my Savior. So that's exactly how I started this week: nose-to-the-ground on my bedroom floor, crying out to my Ever-Present Help in trouble.

Eventually I turned my Bible to Philippians 4:11 and read the verse about being content in all circumstances. Unfortunately, at that moment I really didn't feel like being content. "Doesn't God know the kind of day I've had?" a little voice inside me whined.

But God always knows what we need. The more I thought about that verse, the more I truly did feel like rejoicing in my Savior. Yes, people here change. Things here are hurtful. But God is still God, unchanging, always Enough for me, always my Rock, my Security, my joy. Even this painful situation shows His love; He is unfailing when everything else seems transient; He is graceful when people are ready to judge; He is beautiful and whole when the world seems fake and shallow.

What awesome truths to know and believe. How incredible that I am a recipient of the never-changing love of my Heavenly Father. But even beyond these truths about God, my time on the ground this week reminded me of two things about myself that I'm prone to forget. I realized I am:
1. Helpless without Him. Depending on my planning and critical thinking to solve life's problems is ludicrous when the One who created me desires to lead me every step of the way. I want my heart to always be in a position of utter humility before Him, whether I'm face down on my bedroom floor, or talking to my friends, or teaching a class of first-graders, or anything else.
2. Humbled, but not defeated. Yes, sometimes I'm knocked down and jaded by this world. But Jesus has made me more than a conqueror. I will use prayer to fight incessantly for those around me to see the truth: only Jesus can bring contentment and wholeness to life. (Quick plug here for one of my favorite books--Wrestling Prayer by Eric and Leslie Ludy has a whole wealth of information on this. :)

Crazy what you can learn with your nose on the ground, but then, I serve an awesome, unpredictable God.

Meant to Live

Project 31, Day 3

"Live for heaven and you get earth thrown in; live for earth and you get neither." ~C.S. Lewis

Sometimes I wonder if our world could possibly get more shallow. Like when I watch 7-year-olds getting brand-new iPod touches for Christmas. Or when I see teenagers who'd rather surf the internet on their phones than talk to you. Or Christian young people who are swept up in the high school soap-opera of who-likes-who rather than being consumed with Christ.

I'm currently reading this super-amazing book, Tramp for the Lord, by Corrie ten Boom. Corrie lived through an unimaginably hideous German concentration camp during World War II (for more on that story, read her book The Hiding Place). She was barely fed, forced to stand in the freezing cold for hours in threadbare rags, made to watch her sister Betsie and many other women die under the horrible cruelities of the guards. Just reading about it gives me the heeby-geebies, but Corrie knew that, to those who have found Jesus, where He is, it is heaven:

"Betsie and I walked to the square where roll call was being held in the concentration camp. ..The head of our barracks was so cruel that she had sent us out into the very cold outdoors a full hour too early. Betsie's hand was in mind. We went to the square by a different way from the rest of our barracks-mates. We were three as we walked with the Lord and talked with Him. 'Isn't this a bit of heaven!' Betsie had said. 'And Lord, this is a small foretaste. One day we will see You face to face, but thank You that even now You are giving us the joy of walking and talking with You.' Heaven in the midst of hell. Light in the midst of darkness. What a security!"

And farther on in the book...

"There [in Korea] I saw the poorest shack I had ever seen. It was a tiny lean-to, made from materials collected from the garbage heap--pieces of cardboard, tin cans which had been smashed flat, old boards...As we drove past, though, I heard the beautiful voice of a woman singing. Seldom, even in the concert halls of Europe, had I heard such a sweet voice. We stopped the car and listened, for it was like the song of a skylark. I said to the missionary who was travelling with me, 'Do you know that song?' 'Yes,' she said, 'it says, Where Jesus is, 'tis heaven there."

This is true beauty. Realizing that all the shallow, material comforts and fads of this world mean nothing. In the lowest valey or on the highest mountaintop there is joy if Jesus is there. That is what life should be: Living for something far greater than comfort or fun or popularity. Living for a Savior, being so enraptured with His love that nothing can separate you from His joy.

Oh Jesus, please show us what we were Meant to Live for.

Switchfoot: Meant to Live official music video