Better Than Wine

Ein Altes Gebet

2010-06-29T11:25:00.000-06:00

Had I always sought Thy blessing,
All my sins to Thee confessing,
Lord, from Thee no thought concealing,
All in childlike faith revealing,
O then might I dread no morrow,
Gladness would dispel each sorrow.
If swift as light I took my flight
And left the earth behind me,
I ne'er could wander from Thy sight,
O Father, Thou wouldst find me.
And though I sleep in oceans deep
In realms unfathomed hide me
Thou o'er me faithful watch dost keep
Who dost protect and guide me.

--author unknown

Jake the Cat...and the start of his 9th life!

2010-01-18T17:31:00.006-06:00

It all started when Jake started peeing all over the apartment. We figured he was just marking his territory - Jake is primarily an outdoor cat, and we had kept him inside since moving a month before. He continued to pee on things and we were getting pretty pissed at him. We started introducing him to the outdoors, and the day he peed on the couch was the day that we first kicked him out for an overnight stay.

The next evening, we let him back in, figuring he'd learned his lesson...and that's when I noticed how weird he was acting. He cried at me when I picked him up, and I thought he was scared from being outside for the first long period of time. Then I set him down and saw him accidentally 'sprinkle'! I then took him straight to the litter box and chucked him in there so he could go in the appropriate place. I watched him for nearly 5 min - he was trying and trying to go and couldn't!

He gave up and went to the living room to lie down. I went to feel his belly to see if there was swelling of any kind, and realized he was in pain. That's when I noticed him licking a spot on his arm; upon closer investigation, I realized he was smoothing the fur over a huge gash in his arm!

At this point I began calling emergency vets, panicked. No one would answer, so the best we could do was rush him to our regular vet at 7am the next morning.

Initially, we were told he just needed some antibiotics, and the wound closed up. After they sedated him to stitch up his injury (which we still have no idea how he got!), they felt his bladder and realized that he was completely unable to go to the bathroom on his own.

Over the course of the next 5 days, Jake was hooked up to an IV to flush out his system (see the awesome missing patch of fur on his paw where they hooked it in), and had a catheter inserted so that he could go to the bathroom. I've never seen a cat look so pathetic. After blood work and urinalysis, the vet determined that Jake had developed blockage in his bladder which prevented him from using the bathroom. Sparing the gross details (I could barely stand it without vomiting the first time, I have no desire to reminisce)...this is a very serious condition for a cat. Left untreated, he would have died shortly.

Jake was quite the handful at the vet, even in the critical condition he was in. They made him wear one of those plastic cones on his head to prevent him from gnawing at his stitches, the IV, and the catheter. They said it is normal for a cat to get that cone off perhaps once...Jake had it off every single morning! In addition, he managed to pull out his own catheter, undo his own stitches (which they then replaced with STAPLES just in case) and figured out how to open the kennel doors. They had to put a lock on his cage door to keep him in!!!

He is home now, and enjoying the luxuries of sleeping on the couch and eating the yummy special diet the vet sent him home with. We expect he will make a full recovery, but imagine that this is the start of his 9th and final life...Let's hope it lasts a long time.

We're Engaged!

2009-08-26T13:36:00.010-06:00

After over 2 years of a very blessed dating relationship, Jonathan and I are now officially engaged! :)

As a preface to "The Story", I've actually known for quite some time that this moment was coming, and frankly was growing anxious about why it had not occurred yet. That's just "me being a girl" for you! We picked out the ring in late January, and I knew it was ready for pickup at the store in mid-July...but July came and went, and the days and weeks kept creeping on. Jonathan assured me that he simply hadn't asked yet because he had some grandiose plan that had 'certain time constraints' which he could not explain without giving it away.

We experienced a bit of financial setback, and I began to wonder if perhaps he hadn't asked yet because of money, or because of his job...and eventually I began to just wonder "oh no! What if he's just not ready??? Am I pushing him???". In reality, Jonathan's big grandiose plan had actually fallen through, and the poor guy was just as ready to get engaged as I was, but was uncertain he could come up with a romantic Plan B for the proposal.

The Story:

Monday night, I went to my first grad school class (which was awesome, btw) and left feeling quite elated. I headed over to our church young couples fellowship group directly afterward, which happens to be hosted by the family that Jonathan is staying with temporarily. After Couples Group, I stayed to spend some time with him.

We played Guitar Hero for a bit (yes, my engagement shall forever be associated with Guitar Hero, ha ha) and then he could tell something was weighing on my mind. He eventually pried out my nervous thoughts concerning questions over why he had not proposed yet. He then paused and said "Well, maybe this will help....Close your eyes."

I closed my eyes and heard him rummaging around--at this point, I figured he was going to let me 'visit' my ring (which I have affectionately dubbed "My Sparkly") in an effort to tide over my pent up emotions for another few weeks until he actually went through with his big proposal plan.

Instead, he sat back down beside me and said "Imagine that I..." and proceeded to walk me through his original grandiose proposal plan, helping me to see each detail bit by bit. At the end of the story he said "now imagine that I get down on one knee, and ask you...". After his story was finished, he said regretfully that it cannot happen that way anymore (another long story, but let's just say there was a major component of the plan that recently became an impossibility). He then asked me to open my eyes. When I did, he opened the ring box and asked me for REAL. He said "Sarah, will you be my Queen?" which is special, because my name means Princess and he calls me that all the time :)

It took me a minute or two to catch on that he was actually asking, not just telling the story anymore, but then he said "I just couldn't wait any longer to ask you. I don't want to wait any more." and I was relieved, because I didn't want to wait any longer either! It was killing me! I said yes, and I will never, ever forget the precious look of joy and raw emotion on my future husband's face when he realized that, in his words "you are finally mine".

After the proposal, we left the house and drove into Percy Warner Park, which is a huge park with lots of hiking trails and a scenic drive. Jonathan took me up to a beautiful overlook of the foothills and the perfectly clear, starry night sky. As we were standing outside enjoying the moment, I saw the biggest shooting star I have ever seen in my life! It went all the way from one end of the sky to the other, and lasted for several seconds. It was amazing, and a perfect ending to our night.

So, there you have it--We're engaged!

He showed up to my workplace the next morning with a beautiful vase of roses, which was very sweet and thoughtful :) I really do feel like a princess--he's my hero!

Precious Daughter of the King

2009-07-13T21:49:00.006-06:00

As far as my spiritual life goes, this year has been mostly about trying to reconnect with the truth of who God is. I have spent many days pondering His existence, His love, and the reality of His power in my life. I have not at all times been convinced of each of these things; my sinful nature unfortunately creates this insatiable need to be in control of my own life and thereby ignore God. I have really lost the ability to see Him very much, other than experiencing an intense connection with Him when singing praise and worship songs in church.

Two Sundays ago, I was reminded of His power.

For the first time in a few months (since beginning my hostess job), I was able to go to church. Jonathan had to work that day, so I came alone and sat on the aisle next to dear friends from our church young couples group. I was so relieved and at peace to finally be able to be at church, where I knew God would speak to me in ways He does not when I am home on my couch.

During the first few moments of the service, our pastor, Randy, began to talk about a man named Barnabas in the Bible. Baranabas, he said, means "Son of Encouragement." My mind began to wander, as it often does when provoked with good thoughts, and I wondered how many people out there actually live up to what their name means. I pondered my own name, Sarah, which is translated from the Hebrew word for "princess". I'm definitely not royalty of any kind, and I wouldn't be caught dead in one of those pretentious looking tiaras even on my wedding day....but I am the daughter of a king. I'm the daughter of the King, in fact. Probably not why my mother gave me that name, but I still managed to live up to its meaning when I chose to follow Christ.

Service continued. During the first prayer, a few moments were offered during which we prayed for our own individual needs. I remember consciously ignoring my desire to pray for a supernatural experience or for divine knowledge and instead simply asking God to teach me who He is. It was communion Sunday, which is my favorite because we spend so much time singing and reflecting. For me, there is no better way to connect with God in an emotional way. After making my way to the front of the room for communion, I knelt on the cushy kneeler and sang a few more lines before motioning to recieve the bread and wine.

My sin is all I have to give
I lay it at your feet and find I live

Randy (our pastor) happened to be the person serving communion at the spot I knelt at. He approached me when I gave a slight nod, and offered me the bread and wine with these words:

"A new name he has given you: Precious Daughter of the King."

And then I cried. I cried because I suddenly knew that God had heard me...He had listened, and answered a question I had forgotten that I had asked. He showed me not only who He is - a God who hears - but who I am as well.

A Presence of Thieves

2009-01-16T19:20:00.009-06:00

There are ghosts from my past who've owned more of my soul
Than I thought I had given away
They linger in closets and under my bed
And in pictures less proudly displayed
A great fool in my life I have been
I have squandered till pallid and thin
Hung my head in shame and refused to take blame
For the darkness I know I've let win

--Jennifer Knapp "Martyrs and Thieves"

For just over 2 years now I have been at the mercy not of the good Lord but of self-hatred, toxic shame, and immense guilt, all resulting in drastic unbelief and an unraveling of the foundations of my very faith.

As a "newer" Christian, I suppose it makes sense that after spending my first three years of belief in a Christian Bubble (ACU), I would question my faith in its entirety after leaving. Upon my arrival in Nashville, I realized that didn't know what was real or what I had just picked up along the way; and, as my own sinfulness grew, those initial seeds of doubt were nurtured until they had grown into a tangled web of vines which I now find myself entrapped by.

I currently feel as though I have so many things wrong with me that there is no way to even begin to sort out the mess that I have become after 24 years practicing the art of royally screwing up.

I have allowed my life to be ruled by my own inadequacies, insecurities, inferiorities, and, above all, shame. I have been consumed by the need for a man, unbelief in anyone's ability to ever understand me, and a feeling of complete and utter unworthiness of love. I have let fear and distrust resulting from my childhood and adolescence mock me from the shadows of my present life. I have crushed my heart under the weight of guilt over the way things ended with my first love. I have hoisted walls around my heart in a futile effort to avoid being wounded, betrayed, and damaged by the failed promises of love and faithfulness of yet another man. I have traded pieces of my personality, beliefs, image, and lifestyle to avoid experiencing rejection of my true self by those I have unhealthily and desperately clung to. Worst of all, I have denied my God and forgotten how to believe in the One who gives me my very breath.

Like Elijah, I am standing on a mountain in the unavoidable presence of the Lord. There has been great and powerful wind tearing my mountain apart, shattering the rocks of my foundation, and the Lord has not been in the wind. There have been earthquakes and fires wreaking havoc on this mountain I stand upon, and the Lord has not been in the earthquakes and fires. Rather, He is in the faint and gentle whisper that I hear now that my mountain has crumbled to pieces, leaving a cloud of dust through which I hear:

"What are you doing here, Sarah? Come home."

Cliche, I know.

2008-06-02T16:09:00.004-06:00

To be completely honest, I haven't spoken to God in months. I have become so frustrated and wrapped up in my own life that I can no longer just let go of my own ideas and turn to God for help. Stupid, right? I guess when it comes down to it, I'm what you would call a doubter. In spite of the passion I have for God in times of complete faith, I tend to slide in and out of believing that any of it is real, or that any of it means anything to my life; and, since I don't want to just go through the motions of faith, I stop altogether.

And now, after a year of ignoring God, I am: a) too scared to give up control, and b) not really sure I believe it would make a difference if I did.

I used to walk out my door and see skies and grass and (in those glorious times when I happen to be vacationing in higher altitudes) mountains and know that God made it all. I could SEE Him in it all, FEEL Him in it all. Now when I walk out my door, all I see is my dinged up car that takes me to work and class and Jonathan's apartment, and the mailbox where I'm expecting my next check to arrive, and the concrete slab of pavement that takes me to both. I've forgotten what it feels like to taste and see that the Lord is good. Well, not 'good'. More like 'real', 'ever-present' and 'mighty'.

I am empty, and sad, and longing so much just to be back in that place where I ask God what HIS plan is for me...but I'm too afraid of having to give up my own plans. Cliche, I know, but I always say that there is a reason things become cliche--they are things that people experience over and over and over again.

So, for those of you who have already been stuck in this cliche a few times....where am I, and how do I get out?

"You Don't Have to Fake a Smile for Me"

2008-04-27T14:40:00.006-06:00

To Jonathan, with love:

Lights out, you are alone, unobserved
You choose something that I would not
Now that I have you
And you say that this just isn’t about me
But you don’t think you’re ready to give up the extra sideshow
Well, I don’t know if I’m okay with that.

You’re just a man—I understand you can’t be perfect.
And when we're through it all, it will be worth it in the end,
Because I still want you to hold me,
Even though it’s you who hurt me,
So I can hear you say:
“You don’t have to fake a smile for me.”

Maybe I should have seen this sooner
Or connected the dots before
But you say that you didn’t mean to do this to me
That it’s just something that is different for the guys
Well, I don’t know if I’m so sure of that

You’re just a man—I understand you can’t be perfect.
And when we're through it all, it will be worth it in the end,
Because I still want you to hold me,
Even though it’s you who hurt me,
So I can hear you say:
“You don’t have to fake a smile for me.”

There will be surprises (though hopefully not like this)
And they may make us wonder what else we might have missed,

But you won't have to fake a smile for me.
You don't have to fake a smile for me.

Again and Again

2008-02-08T11:35:00.001-06:00

There was a small period of time during which I fully trusted God. I remember the essence of those two short months--sweet peace, slight nervousness, deep breaths, and high hopes. I had just moved to Nashville, and I had nothing to distract me. No roots, no history, and barely a social life. God was my Source of truth, and especially my Source of guidance. With nothing and no one else to affect my decisions in life, He had full control over His child...and I learned what it felt like to not have to worry, for two short months.

I guess that makes me understand a little better why some people choose to live their lives out in complete solitude, all monk-ed out in robes and silence. It's so easy--and so richly fulfilling--to be alone with God. You can ask the questions and actually hear the answers, instead of a thousand voices in your mind that each want to please a different part of your busy life. Oh, the voice of God! I've forgotten what that sounds like! Even now, struggling to remember the taste of it all, I know that giving all control to Him tasted better than anything I could plan for myself.

And yet.

I sit here on my bed, fingers and toes freezing (which is completely off the point), trying to figure out the loopholes in that inescapable Call of God.

"Trust in Me and do good; delight yourself in Me and I will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to Me; trust in Me and I will do this."

You want me to WHAT? Trust You?? Suddenly, with all the voices competing for my attention in my life, trusting God is not so easy. Neither is giving up the things that are muffling His voice. See, I think I try hard--very hard--not to listen to God when I know I am choosing to follow my own way. I know His way is better. I know His way could never harm me. But, I doubt highly that His way results in my happy ending. Oh, it ends in "a" happy ending--just not the one I've been meticulously planning throughout all of my purposeful sin.

Every time I choose to be what I want to be, I somehow manage to forget that I am not the only one who knows and is capable of fulfilling the deepest desires of my heart. My sin is simply a representation of the fact that 9 days out of 10, I just don't believe enough in the power of the God I love. I've convinced myself that only I can fulfill my wildest dreams, that I am in charge. As a result, I'm afraid to speak to the God whose only wish is for me to come to Him.

Does this sound familiar? I think it happens to all of us, and the only cure is Surrender.

I have to decide if I'm willing to do that. Again. And again. And again....and again......

Reasons Why

2008-01-31T22:31:00.000-06:00

"Where am I today? I wish that I knew...'cause looking around, there's no sign of You. I don't remember one jump or one leap--just quiet steps away from Your lead. I'm holding my heart out but clutching it too, feeling just short of a love that we once knew. Calling this home when it's not even close, playing the role with nerves left exposed. Standing on a darkened stage, stumbling through the lines. Others have excuses...I have my reasons why. We get distracted by the dreams of our own. Nobody's happy while feeling alone. Knowing how hard it hurts when we fall, we lean another ladder against the wrong wall. And climb high to the highest rung, shake fists at the sky. Others have excuses...I have my reasons why. With so much deception its hard not to wander away...It's hard not to wander away."

--Nickel Creek "Reasons Why"

It's Christmas Break!!!

2007-12-08T11:04:00.001-06:00

Well, friends, another semester down (after one more final)! Now I only have one year left before I walk outta here with my Music Business degree. What I shall do with it, only time will tell...probably nothing, but at least I'll have my undergrad.

Jonathan and I are headed to Texas on the 18th, where I will scurry around doing fun and exciting bridesmaidly duties for Erin's wedding on the 22nd, then we'll have Christmas with my family on the 23rd, fly to Chicago on Christmas Eve, have Christmas with his family, play with his friends until we fly back to Texas on the 30th, spend New Years Eve in Dallas, then drive back to Nashville on the 1st! WHEW!

So that's the exciting Christmas Break plan...then onward to a 19 hour semester followed by a 6 hour summer followed by a 13 hour grand college finale. Ahh, the end is sort of in sight!

Viktor FOUND!!! :)

2007-09-23T07:58:00.000-06:00

After an 11-day ordeal, my beloved kitty cat, Viktor, is no longer MIA. Turns out he was close--very close--the whole time, just like all my research said he probably was.

Lindsay and I pulled into our driveway around 4pm yesterday after doing some shopping. We noticed that the neighbors three doors down were out. We were surprised to see them, because they're never out--not even their small children, who could safely play in our culdesac, but never do. They are the only neighbors in our small culdesac of about 8 houses that I have not been able to meet and talk with during Viktor's disappearance. The one time I was able to get them to answer their door, the man's brother answered and I couldn't talk to the man who lived there. Spanish speaking people, they seemed to have a limited grasp of English, which made things difficult. I was never able to search their yard or garage.

When we pulled in, the man came running over to our car, and said "I found your cat!". I was skeptical and calm; the neighborhood cat is short-haired and black, and many people have confused him for my missing long-haired black cat with a red collar (sigh). However, he went on to say "I look in my garage and I see something black, and I reach in and he is there. I put him on your porch."

I immediately asked "How long ago was this??" and he said a couple of days. "Well did he have a red collar on?" I asked. I was still not convinced this was my cat.

"He had a, a necklace, yes, I put him on your porch. He look very clean, I think someone must have him in their house and he got out and ran in my garage." the man said.

"Wait, HOW long ago was this??" I asked again--this very nice man did not seem to know his English words well. This time, the man said "About 30 minutes ago".

At this point Lindsay and I sprang into action. I was slightly pissed off that this man stuck my lost cat on my porch where he could (and very well might) just run off again for the nearest hiding spot. Also a little pissed that this guy did not take five minutes to look in his garage when I put flier after flier on all my neighbors' houses trying to get them to do so. I'm sure Viktor has just been curled up in a frightened ball in this family's garage for the past 11 days.

Lindsay ran around the back of the house--I ran up to the front porch hoping he might still be there. As soon as I stepped on the front steps and called his name, I heard a yowling noise that surely could not belong to my squeaky-meowed Viktor. I looked all around, and finally realized he had slunk off the porch and was huddled in a tight ball betwen the bushes and the corner of the house steps, eyes as big as saucers. He saw me and immediately crawled under the railing and into my arms.

He is about 3-4 pounds lighter, has a lot of matted fur, doesn't smell very nice, is sneezing a lot, and was very hungry/dehydrated, but I think he'll be okay after a few days and a flea bath. He was very happy to be back in the house, and he won't leave me alone. He's normally pretty affectionate, but now he even follows me around, literally jumps into my arms (the lap isn't good enough, he has to be held over my shoulder like when you burp a baby), felt a great need to wake me up every few hours last night, and just wants me to hold him for like ten minutes at a time while he purrs and gives me kisses!

I'm so glad to have my baby back. Thank you everyone for your prayers and encouragement! Now let's hope he recovers from this traumatic experience very soon!

"I miss my cat!" Prayer request!

2007-09-19T11:18:00.000-06:00

Last Tuesday night (9/11), we had a fun little get-t0gether for Jonathan's birthday, at my place. For the first time since my roommates and I moved in to our new place, it was cool enough to open up the windows and turn the air off. A not so well taken care of rental, some of the house windows have screens and some do not. We opened up the ones with screens and simply cracked the ones that did not...or so I thought. Unfortunately, one window was accidentally left open, and my beloved house-cat, Viktor, escaped from it. I noticed his absence around 11pm.

Since Viktor is, as my roommate said, "like my child", I am naturally quite upset. I pretty much go to class, go to internship, and then come home and search for my kitty. I've set up 2 rented humane traps every night since Day 2 of the escape, and our front porch reeks of fish. I've crawled under neighbors' houses and through their underbrush, etc.

It's been over a week now, and hopefully he will get hungry, and braver, and come out from wherever he is hiding.

Please pray for him to be safe and for him to find his way back home or into one of my traps. And pray that I can keep a hopeful outlook, and stay positive.

Thanks, friends...it means a lot to me.

But For a Season

2007-07-08T19:52:00.001-06:00

Curled up on my big, comfy green couch, my mind wanders, begging for some distraction--however small--from the hours of studying that inevitably lie ahead. All I want to do is pull a throw blanket over my body and go limp with sweet sleep. I don't even know why I'm so tired...I suppose it's just my body's way of repaying me for everything I've put it through this summer, trying to take classes and clean houses and house hunt and be a great girlfriend and a great friend-friend and somehow stay on top.

I sink back into the cushions and close my eyes, listening to Colleen McCarron singing through my laptop beside me.

"Do you ever wake up lonely and missing me, or that cool September night? 'Cause though it's been three years, I can't seem to forget you, baby, or what your kisses tasted like. So give it back to me, wasn't yours, wasn't yours for the keeping, though I gave you a piece, I am pleading, and my wounds won't stop bleeding. I just want my heart," she pleads.

I dreamed about Jonathan last night--the first Jonathan. I don't remember much of it, except that it involved "just one last kiss...just one." I can't believe it's been three years since we made the memories that still play in my mind today. There's no longer any rhyme or reason to my thoughts of him; only in my unawares does my heart still turn back in any way. I remember, even a short time ago, thinking of him every day, in complete consciousness. Bonnie once told me I may always think of my first love, until I meet the man who would be my greatest love. I always listened to Bonnie, because my God spoke so much to me through her. Time and again, her words have held true. I smile, knowing that she was right once more. My wounds have finally stopped bleeding, and my heart is finally back in the right Hands.

"Do you ever waste your thoughts on our memories? Then wish you did things differently? 'Cause though it's cliche, everything it happens for a reason, I was yours but for a season, and right now it does and doesn't feel that way. So give it back to me, wasn't yours, wasn't yours for the keeping, and though I gave you a piece, I am pleading, and my wounds won't stop bleeding. I just want my heart."

Whispers of His assurances seep into my mind as I lie there in my living room, ignoring my Microeconomic text. Last fall, He promised me that I would love again, soon, but just not today'. He reminded me that He has always been faithful to me, and would be again. Lo and behold...He was. My Love crept into my life when I wasn't looking, and didn't even want to look anymore. In fact, I'd given up on finding anyone who would match the love I felt for my first love--it seemed impossible. And yet, God has proved faithful once again. How sweet is our Lord, to give so freely and fully, while knowing we will never be able to repay him.

Oh Father, I don't deserve the love that I have in my life. I don't deserve the kindness, the selflessness, the protectiveness that You offer through him. At the same time, I don't want to continue feeling guilty for accepting the gifts that You offer me...Help me, Lord, to simply be filled with joy and love for You when I look at what my life overflows with. Help me to thank You more, to love You more, and to be humbled by Your willingness to love me in spite of all my many failings. And help me not to dwell on my failings, but to dwell on Your perfect ways. I know I am asking a lot, Father...I know that all too well. But I need You to step in and override the doubts and frustrations and insecurities in my heart. Please, Father, take them from me and replace them with Your holy touch. In Christ's name I pray, amen.

Boxes

2007-05-07T21:01:00.000-06:00

"The best thing that could ever happen to anybody in this room, the best thing, is that your sin would be literally exposed on the five-o-clock news. Your deepest, darkest, most embarrassing sin, the one you work the hardest to hide, would be broadcast on the five-o-clock news. Best thing that could ever happen to you. Best thing that could ever happen to me. 'Cause I am so weary, I am so tired of hiding my sin from people, of deceiving people of who I really am. I just wish my sins would be exposed! I wish there were huge screens that would just show you the truth about me, all the way down to my core, in order that you would know me for who I really was, in order that I could not, that I didn't even have the option to hide from you any more. In order that I would have nothing but Jesus to grasp onto--because that's all I've got anyway." --Derek Webb, off his House album

I got to see Derek Webb live last night, for the first time. Amazing experience. I love it when you can see right through an artist's songs to their life. I was thinking earlier today about moving, since I plan on doing so in a few months (no, not far, just to a cheaper place!). It occurred to me that no matter what your new place looks like, no matter what new home you walk into and set up camp in, you have to take all of your stuff with you. You don't just leave it behind; you pack it up in boxes and carry it wherever you go. Your shit follows you. Even your mail gets forwarded--junk and all.

I think there are a lot of people in life, myself included, who have at some point been under the disillusionment that changing some aspect of their life will eliminate whatever it was before. It's the escape and replace routine. We assume that moving into a place with fresh paint on the walls will somehow keep other people from knowing we just came from a place where the wallpaper was peeling up from every corner and crease. But what if it's not other people we have to worry about hiding from? What if it's ourselves?

That, we can't really do. You're going to have to unpack those boxes sometime....you know?

Simply Help

2007-03-25T13:28:00.000-06:00

Nathan Anderson is buying a new car on Monday. Watching him do business has really made me realize I should probably take a better look at my financial state (especially after hearing him criticize himself for, quote, "spending money like a college student would"). Hmm. So, I've just been playing around on Excel for the past hour, raising both eyebrows every time a shocking number arises.

With my measly $8/hr wage (which is actually the highest base wage I've ever earned), I bring in about $585/month. My rent alone is $577, excluding all bills. Then there's water, electricity, cable/internet service (which you have to have these days for school), and speaking of school, there's school. Did I mention school? Yeah.

So, not even counting tuition/books (although let's go ahead and put that at about $9,000 a semester), I need almost $600 more than what I make each month (and that's only if I stop eating fast food, which is almost impossible for a busy college student, and limit myself to $80 of "fun" money each month). I've been floating on an extra loan I took out this semester, but I calculated that out and determined that if I keep the current budget I have, the $2,000 I have in savings will be gone within four and a half months, if that. Conclusion? I need to be making twice as much per hour as I currently am. And I need someone to pay for my tuition. (ha!)

I have a class this semester that is titled "Understanding Poverty". We have spent the better part of this semester researching the effects of having a living wage; mainly, we have focused on the Labor Union's fight against Vanderbilt University for a living wage to its employees. In Nashville, the EPI estimates a living wage (how much money the average person needs to cover basic needs including rent, bills, and food, without asking for government assistance) at about $10.13 an hour.

Funny how students, who have more to pay for than many other categories of people, somehow always get paid between $5.15/hr and $8/hr. It's so disheartening...It makes me wonder if I'll ever break even, much less be able to save for things that are important to me, like a wedding, a family, or paying off the school loans that I was forced to take (and that still aren't enough).

I find it interesting that most students are considered below the poverty line, and yet we mostly all look "middle class" ish. We are poor, and yet we live as if money were no concern. It is as though we are stuck in between two worlds, financially. We are often stuck that way emotionally and spiritually as well, anxiously waiting for 'real' lives to begin. Even our prayers seem contradict themselves.

Father, help me to untangle the mess in my thoughts. Help me to be content with today, and not worry so much about the future. Yet, help me to plan for it as much as I can. Help me to not worry about graduating, and yet help me to do well in my classes. Help me not to worry about when/where/how I begin my life with my husband, and yet remind me to pray for him every day. Help me not to sweat the small stuff, and yet help me to give thanks for every moment. Father, help me. Simply help.

Catching up

2007-02-17T15:58:00.000-06:00

People have always told me I'm very mature for my age. My own mother has mockingly called me a forty-year-old midget since I was about nine, which I have nearly always taken as a compliment. But the more I 'catch up' to my mental age, the more I realize how much I never knew, never understood about what it means to be an adult.

I've been thinking about this a lot, in terms of the relationships I have built around me in the current phase of life that I'm in. My friends, for example, are no longer just the social 'hang out' type of friends that I had in high school. My truest friends now are the ones I share more than the surface of my life with--they know the details of my heart. Not only that, but they care about the details of my heart.

I have this problem, though: I don't like people to know the details of my heart. I'm afraid of it.

I don't really know exactly what one thing spawned this whole 'anti-trust' issue, but for the past several years I have clung to it religiously, almost as if I am afraid I will drown without it. I don't really think it was just one thing...but perhaps a category of things, titled "broken promises". Those always do tend to make one a bit cautious.

It's not really fair. The people who are in my life right now have done nothing to deserve my walls, my caution...my brokenness. They have broken no promises to me, have abandoned no trust. And yet, my fight or flight risk takes over time and again when faced with someone who wants to penetrate my heart, if only to better know me and come to love me.

The Lord, He has broken no promises to me either. He has never taken a piece of my heart and returned it in a worse state than it was given. He has loved me, unconditionally, and has given me no reason to hide--and still I do. From Him, and everyone else as well.

Father, forgive me for my hesitation to let You invade every space of my heart. Your Spirit, a great cloud which used to dwell in a holy building, now resides in the hollows of my body. If You are already there, why do I fight against Your loving presence? Why do I resist the presence of my friends in my heart? Why do I run when Nate pries into my thoughts, lovingly and carefully? I have no answer, Lord, except that I am scared. Please help me to trust Your presence in me, and so learn to trust Your presence in the rest of Your children. And help them, Lord, to have patience with my brokeness. I love You.

Exposure

2007-02-11T15:27:00.000-06:00

Satan loves to disguise himself, and the Spirit loves to expose him. The Great Deceiver, as Christians often call him, looooves to take seemingly innocent, 'it happens every day' sorts of things and use them to his advantage. I've known this for a long time, but knowledge isn't the same thing as wisdom; therefore, I often look right past Satan and his schemes, seeing only my own faults and blaming myself for his dirty work.

Nathan and I recently decided to change the nature of our relationship to where God is the center of it, rather than ourselves. We had each been ignoring our faith for months, and as a result had not grown spiritually as individuals, much less as a couple. And so we agreed to take one step at a time until the Lord became the glue between us, as He should be.

This is where Satan stepped in. He promptly put fear in my heart for the first week, making me unsure as to what to do first in order to bring God into my life with Nate. The next week, Nate's grandpa died, and he was gone all week attending to funeral arrangements and family. While home, he contracted a cold from his sister and has been sick for the week and a half since.

A little fear, a family death, a common cold--innocent, everyday things, right? I no longer think it is that simple--for two weeks, I have barely seen my Nathan, and for three weeks, nothing about our shared spiritual life has changed.

It finally dawned on me, after spending days on end muttering angry comments directed mainly at myself, that it isn't entirely our fault that nothing has changed yet. Satan had our hearts for the past few months, but when we finally decided to give those same hearts back into the loving arms of our God, the evil one took every effort to keep us from taking any action towards affirming that decision. He knows that our hearts are now in the right place, and that our desire is to love the Lord. He also knows that if we spend any real time together, we'll start to share that love--the holy and pure love of the Lord--with one another. It is Satan's worst nightmare, Christians sharing Christ, and apparently he will do anything to stop us from accomplishing it.

I'm a bit frustrated, especially since I realized all of this a few days ago and have been praying against it since, to no avail. In church today, Tim said something that caught my attention immediately: "heading in the right direction does us no good without the power of God." A decision like the one Nate and I made is useless until we begin to rely on the power of our Almighty God, rather than relying on ourselves. Such a statement would make almost no sense to a non-Christian, but to me it is "the very aroma of Christ."

It is a simple truth that we who belong to the Lord must rely on Him, must trust Him, in order for our prayers to be heard and our enemies defeated before our eyes. Yes, I have turned my heart back towards the Lord after months of apathy. Yes, I have been reading in His word and learning about Him, talking about Him...But, I have not leaned on Him. I have not been witness to His power. In fact, I have not even asked Him to show it. I have not believed that He is truly in control...and for that, it is I who suffer at the hands of sin and the one who brings it.

Lord, let me be filled with belief in You, trust in You, and reliance on the power of Your Holy Spirit!

I Slept, but My Heart Was Awake

2007-02-06T13:30:00.000-06:00

I once prayed in deep confusion to the Lord, "Father, how much it must pain you to have to raise a fully grown young woman as a mere babe in Christ. I am nineteen, in my eyes. In yours, I am barely a year old, since that is when I gave my life to you. To see me, far past the innocence of childhood, and for You to be so determined that I should return there...How can it be done?"

I am confident that it made perfect sense to Him, however much it confused me to utter the words. (The Lord in all His infinite wisdom is never far from such prayers.) And, He had an answer....to break me.

The Lord shattered me into a million pieces through my experiences in Abilene, leaving me spent, and yearning. In my three years there, I dealt with a multitude of pains, each molding me and teaching me how to let go of the control that I have so vainly grasped at with clutching hands day after day. I left the tumult of Abilene in May, and by August had learned the simplest and most valuable lesson of my short life thus far: My heart is not my own.

One might think I would have learned this nearly eight years ago, the hour I first believed in the existence of God and His eternally lasting grace, giving Him my acknowledgment. If not then, surely I would have learned it when my face emerged from the baptismal pool, dripping with renewal and dedication three and a half years ago, giving Him my life. But my heart is more stubborn than most other parts of me, and is--regrettably--the only thing I refused to give.

Our Father does not give up until He has captured and invaded every hollow of our souls and lives. He will not settle for only your acknowledgment or dedication; He wants your heart as well. And, truly, there is a piece of each of our hearts that will remain listless and dissatisfied until we give Him what He wants. Unfortunately, it is not as simple to live out this lesson as it is to realize it.

There are moments, days, even months at a time during which I sleep. Yes, sleep. I sleep as one who lacks the strength, lacks the love to rise and face the day and its demons. I sleep as a fitful child, scared to dream of what might be better and scared to wake to what has not changed. Stuck, in the apathetic in-between, for as long as it takes for me to realize I do not belong there.

I slept, but my heart was awake. Listen! My lover is knocking: "Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one."

The heart, it never sleeps. Even when you do not hear your Lover beating against your walls, your heart hears Him. It hears the One who whispers into your sleeping soul, calling you His flawless one. God created your heart so that it would never be able to fully shut Him out once you have let Him in. He, my Love, never sleeps either.

How right they are to adore you, Oh Lord.