When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain
Before high piled books, in charactry,
Hold like rich garner the full ripen’d grain;
When I behold, upon the night starr’d face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the fairy power
Of unreflecting love;–then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink. ~John Keats
This poem by John Keats wrenched my heart. After reading the tragic account of Keats’ short life, reading this sonnet on Keats’ reluctance to leave this world saddened me. He died at the age of 24, after a short yet brilliant life, and many have wondered what may have happened if he had lived longer. It seems that Keats himself had some of these same thoughts as well.
The opening lines of the poem gripped me as I saw my own struggles mirrored in them. I don’t face an imminent death as Keats did, but growing up in Christendom one is constantly reminded of their brevity. For years I struggled with this, fighting against acceptance, pleading with God to not take me or come back before my plans for my life were completed. I had things to do and to write and to read, I had people I was reluctant to leave, and I had my own plans that I felt were for my ultimate best. I refused to place my life securely into the hands of the One who created it.
But I found that in this rebellion there is no peace. I began to realize that He who formed me had the right to do as He pleased with my life, and the right to end it whenever He saw fit, no matter if all my plans and goals had been achieved or not. And as I released my life into my Maker’s hands, He showed me peace that I had never known. I saw that all of the things which I so loved about this world were merely cloudy, imperfect reflections of the greater things He has for me in eternity–namely Himself. With Keats, "on the shore / Of the wide world I stand alone, and think / Till love and fame to nothingness do sink," standing here, looking into the vast ocean of eternity, all the things I once held dear sink unregarded into the depths...I am caught up in the wonder of my God.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
HeeHee
|
Wow...I'm really can't believe it. I'd like to thank my parents for bringing me into the world...I'd like to thank my siblings for laughing at me so I would strive to be cooler...I'd like to thank...
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Stephen Speaks
My homework has been completely forgotten. Why? I discovered Stephen Speaks. Through a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend in this crazy blog world, I found a new band that is so fantastic that I impulsively purchased one of their songs...and I am terribly tempted to buy more.
Then as I put the song on full blast and began dancing crazily around my room, my friend Danielle pokes her head into my room {looking for my roommate} and asks, "Where did you get this song?" When I told her, she laughed and told me they are one of Miriam's favorite bands and Danielle has a cd of them because of Miriam. I was just mad at her for not telling me about them before now!
Then as I put the song on full blast and began dancing crazily around my room, my friend Danielle pokes her head into my room {looking for my roommate} and asks, "Where did you get this song?" When I told her, she laughed and told me they are one of Miriam's favorite bands and Danielle has a cd of them because of Miriam. I was just mad at her for not telling me about them before now!
~~~~~~~~~
Is there anything more cozy than peppermint tea, my pink blanket and good music?
~~~~~~~~~
God is amazing. Everyone is made in His image.......just think of it. Everyone who is dear to me is so different, showing me a different side of God's image. When someone drops their guard enough to allow me a glimpse of their soul, I'm amazed by the beauty of God that magnificently shines through.
~~~~~~~~~
Beauty is everywhere...even in the dark alleys of Skid Row. Even in the midst of that poverty and desperation, I see God's wonderful beauty. His grace becomes clearer! As we walked through the broken streets, I contemplated the cracked and scarred sidewalk. It mirrored the lives down there--broken seemingly beyond repair. But God can take the pieces, no matter how shattered, and rebuild them into something beautifully formed in His image. His grace is wonderfully beyond the reach of my comprehension!
~~~~~~~~~
Pray for two Jewish children whom my life has come into contact with this past week. Their parents don't want them to hear about the gospel, but the children don't fully believe the faith of their parents either. The oldest is twelve, that miraculous age where the world suddenly doesn't make sense anymore and you need someone to show you the order of it all. I want to be that person for her, to help her see the truth, but her father might not let me babysit again after my discussion of the sovereignty of God with her late at night. But what else can one use to comfort a child who is frightened of evil spirits as she tries to sleep?
~~~~~~~~~
Pray for me that I don't spread myself too thin! This week I start both FLO {like ASB} and a possible tutoring opportunity. And from this point, Jillian must find it in herself to say "no" or she will not have time to sleep or eat! {Because these necessities are the first things to go when the time gets tight.}
~~~~~~~~~
All of you have my love, and I think of you often. How can I be praying for you now that you've seen some of what's on my heart?
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Skid Row
The pit in my stomach increases as we drive through the darkened streets. Oh God, oh God, oh God echoes in my head as I hug my Bible closer to my heart. All I can do is cling hard to His Word as I watch the drama of the streets fly past my window. Piles of blankets show where people have already illegally bedded down for the night as huddles of others glance at us as we drive by. We pull to the side of the road and grab the bags of tacos. I send up a simple cry--Help me God--as I exit the van onto the cold street.
A man walks past and I attempt a brave smile. "What are you folks doing?" he asks. What are we doing? I wonder. A bunch of white, middle-class college kids in the worst part of LA at 10:00 on a Friday night? What are we doing?
Another in my group hands him a taco and he continues down the street. A huddle forms as we meet to distribute the tacos from Del Taco and the apples we smuggled out of dinner. "Jillian...come with us?" Miriam calls. I walk over to her, glad to have her by my side. Miriam is my inspiration for coming here. Her heart for the poor and love for the people of Skid Row just overflows when I talk to her, and I felt God prompting me to leave the safety of the Christian environment of Masters...to spend and be spent for another's soul. So here I was, scared to death.
We started down the street to catch up to Candace, Joe and Nate. Nate has already found Donald and hands him a taco. We talk to him about his Bible reading...he tells us about Psalm 29 and talks about his faith in the Lord...but I can smell the alcohol on his breath. He's visibly drunk. When questioned about it, he talks about the heartaches of living on the street and the pain he sees all around him. "Is that an excuse?" No, he agrees, but he still defends his addiction. Others seem to wonder why five white kids are surrounding this little black grandfather, so we turn to them and offer more tacos. Miriam and I talk to Ronnie; "What are your ideas about God?" she asks. He very bluntly replies that his god is narcotics. But he's been clean for awhile--he can tell us down to the month, the week, the day. Raised Jehovah's Witness, he is confused about theology. We discuss the Trinity, the Deity of Christ, and the only true Hope for overcoming addiction. Finally we leave him with hugs and a promise to pray that he will stay clean...along with an unspoken promise to pray for his soul.
Miriam and I join Nate, who is talking to two tall African American men while Joe and Candace continue to witness to Donald. Anthony works at the nearby highschool in gang prevention. "What do you do? How do you help the kids?" we ask. His answer can be boiled down to one word: Love. All they want is to be loved, and they look for it in all the wrong places, and they end up 30-40-50 years old on Skid Row. My heart aches for these children who have never known the love that I have, the love of a Christian family and of a wonderful God.
We walk down the block, turn the corner and huddle for prayer. As Nate brings Donald before the throne of grace, Donald himself rounds the corner. He asks to join the circle and slips in between Miriam and me. We put our arms around him while praying for another, and then pray again for Donald. As I listen, the smell of alcohol mingles with the scent of urine that pervades Skid Row. Inwardly, I cry out to God to open this man's eyes to his sin, to comfort him in this desolate place so that he won't turn to the beer for comfort. I cry for the pain that dwells in this place.
There are so many more people...the man who wouldn't even tell Candace and me his name, so hardened was he against God...the cocaine addict who would yell loudly and jump, landing with a bang that made me jump as well...the woman who was insane with rage, yelling swear words mingled with hallelujahs, screaming at an invisible person down the street while Miriam just held her and tried to comfort her. Again the tears came.
Then there are Phillip and Dynel. Dynel, fresh out of prison, stops us to ask if we are handing out church. "No, we're handing out tacos," we reply, "but we just ran out." But still we give him what we can: God's love. His friend Phillip joins him and we talk for countless minutes. As we stand on the side of the street, another group walks past. One man picks me out of the crowd and comments on my height. As he continues talking, I get more and more uncomfortable, praying frantically and looking around for help. Finally he leaves, with a promise to return. Shakily, I turn back to Candace. "You alright?" she asks. I nod and tell her to pray. The man never returns. Our group breaks into two as we continue to talk to Phillip and Dynel. Phillip seems truly interested. He offers us chairs (buckets and crates) and we sit beside the filthy street discussing God's glory with this homeless alcoholic. "You've made me think," he says. "Tonight I'll put the can down and think about what you've said." He wants to meet us next week...asks for a Bible...tells us to pray for him whenever we think of him. It wasn't a hard promise to make!
With our taco supply exhausted and the hours becoming morning, we leave...back to our heated and air-conditioned dorm rooms and our closets full of clothes and our all-you-can-eat meal plans and our futures full of hope. In the van, I talk to Hannah and Peter about our different experiences, about our struggles, about our futures that are so bright...how can we use them for Him? God has given us so much. Don't waste it!
A man walks past and I attempt a brave smile. "What are you folks doing?" he asks. What are we doing? I wonder. A bunch of white, middle-class college kids in the worst part of LA at 10:00 on a Friday night? What are we doing?
Another in my group hands him a taco and he continues down the street. A huddle forms as we meet to distribute the tacos from Del Taco and the apples we smuggled out of dinner. "Jillian...come with us?" Miriam calls. I walk over to her, glad to have her by my side. Miriam is my inspiration for coming here. Her heart for the poor and love for the people of Skid Row just overflows when I talk to her, and I felt God prompting me to leave the safety of the Christian environment of Masters...to spend and be spent for another's soul. So here I was, scared to death.
We started down the street to catch up to Candace, Joe and Nate. Nate has already found Donald and hands him a taco. We talk to him about his Bible reading...he tells us about Psalm 29 and talks about his faith in the Lord...but I can smell the alcohol on his breath. He's visibly drunk. When questioned about it, he talks about the heartaches of living on the street and the pain he sees all around him. "Is that an excuse?" No, he agrees, but he still defends his addiction. Others seem to wonder why five white kids are surrounding this little black grandfather, so we turn to them and offer more tacos. Miriam and I talk to Ronnie; "What are your ideas about God?" she asks. He very bluntly replies that his god is narcotics. But he's been clean for awhile--he can tell us down to the month, the week, the day. Raised Jehovah's Witness, he is confused about theology. We discuss the Trinity, the Deity of Christ, and the only true Hope for overcoming addiction. Finally we leave him with hugs and a promise to pray that he will stay clean...along with an unspoken promise to pray for his soul.
Miriam and I join Nate, who is talking to two tall African American men while Joe and Candace continue to witness to Donald. Anthony works at the nearby highschool in gang prevention. "What do you do? How do you help the kids?" we ask. His answer can be boiled down to one word: Love. All they want is to be loved, and they look for it in all the wrong places, and they end up 30-40-50 years old on Skid Row. My heart aches for these children who have never known the love that I have, the love of a Christian family and of a wonderful God.
We walk down the block, turn the corner and huddle for prayer. As Nate brings Donald before the throne of grace, Donald himself rounds the corner. He asks to join the circle and slips in between Miriam and me. We put our arms around him while praying for another, and then pray again for Donald. As I listen, the smell of alcohol mingles with the scent of urine that pervades Skid Row. Inwardly, I cry out to God to open this man's eyes to his sin, to comfort him in this desolate place so that he won't turn to the beer for comfort. I cry for the pain that dwells in this place.
There are so many more people...the man who wouldn't even tell Candace and me his name, so hardened was he against God...the cocaine addict who would yell loudly and jump, landing with a bang that made me jump as well...the woman who was insane with rage, yelling swear words mingled with hallelujahs, screaming at an invisible person down the street while Miriam just held her and tried to comfort her. Again the tears came.
Then there are Phillip and Dynel. Dynel, fresh out of prison, stops us to ask if we are handing out church. "No, we're handing out tacos," we reply, "but we just ran out." But still we give him what we can: God's love. His friend Phillip joins him and we talk for countless minutes. As we stand on the side of the street, another group walks past. One man picks me out of the crowd and comments on my height. As he continues talking, I get more and more uncomfortable, praying frantically and looking around for help. Finally he leaves, with a promise to return. Shakily, I turn back to Candace. "You alright?" she asks. I nod and tell her to pray. The man never returns. Our group breaks into two as we continue to talk to Phillip and Dynel. Phillip seems truly interested. He offers us chairs (buckets and crates) and we sit beside the filthy street discussing God's glory with this homeless alcoholic. "You've made me think," he says. "Tonight I'll put the can down and think about what you've said." He wants to meet us next week...asks for a Bible...tells us to pray for him whenever we think of him. It wasn't a hard promise to make!
With our taco supply exhausted and the hours becoming morning, we leave...back to our heated and air-conditioned dorm rooms and our closets full of clothes and our all-you-can-eat meal plans and our futures full of hope. In the van, I talk to Hannah and Peter about our different experiences, about our struggles, about our futures that are so bright...how can we use them for Him? God has given us so much. Don't waste it!
Sorry Chris :-)
| Your Summer Ride is a Jeep |
 |
Monday, September 12, 2005
Being Real
I want to be real. Painfully, powerfully real. I want people to look at me and see a heart that beats for God alone, for them to see the me I am when I'm following hard...the me who aches over my adultery and longs for her bridegroom (...while sinning in the exact same moment).
But my pride gets in the way. Because for people to see the real you is a humbling experience; your flesh rebels against it. When people know the real you, there's the potential for immense hurt. At home I had those people who saw the real me...or at least parts of it. They were the ones who could look at my face and tell me that my "I'm doing alright" was a lie. They had the boldness to sit me down and ask, "Jillian, what's going on?" They took me to task and still loved me though they saw the sin. But to have that kind of relationship took years of built up trust and experiencing life together.
Here I've been uprooted and slammed into a brand-new world where no-one knows me that way. They see the brave smile and hear the "I'm doing alright" and then smile and keep walking. Because I lie. I tell myself that I'm doing alright when I'm really not...therefore how much more will I say that to an acquaintance of a few short weeks? I long to tell someone of the struggles inside of me, but I don't want to burden them, to make them feel responsible for something that they're truly not responsible for.
So I turn to Him who already knows my heart, and He comforts me from His Word.
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction..." 1 Corinthians 1:3-4
"Why are you so cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God." Psalm 42:5
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are Mine..." Isaiah 43:1
In Him is all my sufficiency, and though all this world should pass away, God will still be enough!
But my pride gets in the way. Because for people to see the real you is a humbling experience; your flesh rebels against it. When people know the real you, there's the potential for immense hurt. At home I had those people who saw the real me...or at least parts of it. They were the ones who could look at my face and tell me that my "I'm doing alright" was a lie. They had the boldness to sit me down and ask, "Jillian, what's going on?" They took me to task and still loved me though they saw the sin. But to have that kind of relationship took years of built up trust and experiencing life together.
Here I've been uprooted and slammed into a brand-new world where no-one knows me that way. They see the brave smile and hear the "I'm doing alright" and then smile and keep walking. Because I lie. I tell myself that I'm doing alright when I'm really not...therefore how much more will I say that to an acquaintance of a few short weeks? I long to tell someone of the struggles inside of me, but I don't want to burden them, to make them feel responsible for something that they're truly not responsible for.
So I turn to Him who already knows my heart, and He comforts me from His Word.
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction..." 1 Corinthians 1:3-4
"Why are you so cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God." Psalm 42:5
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are Mine..." Isaiah 43:1
In Him is all my sufficiency, and though all this world should pass away, God will still be enough!
Thursday, September 08, 2005
What Key Signature are You?
A major - you love to live life to the full. You
have a vibrant social life and are not afraid
to take life as it comes. You are content,
bright and often spontaneous.
what key signature are you?
brought to you by quizilla
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
My Desire by Jeremy Camp
You want to be real, you want to be empty inside
You want to be someone laying down your pride
You want to be someone someday
That lays it all down before the king
You want to be whole, you want to have purpose inside
You want to have virtue and purify your mind
You want to be set free today
Then lay it all down before the King
This is my desire, this is my return
This is my desire to be used by You
You want to be real, you want to be empty inside
And I know my heart is to feel You near
And I know my lifeIt's to do Your will
It's to do Your will
This is my desire, this is my return
This is my desire, to be used my You
This is my desire, this is my desire
To be used by You
All my life I have seen
Where You've taken me
Beyond all I have hoped
And there's more left unseen
There's not much I can do to repay all You've done
So I give my hands to use
This is my desire, this is my return
This is my desire, to be used by You
You want to be someone laying down your pride
You want to be someone someday
That lays it all down before the king
You want to be whole, you want to have purpose inside
You want to have virtue and purify your mind
You want to be set free today
Then lay it all down before the King
This is my desire, this is my return
This is my desire to be used by You
You want to be real, you want to be empty inside
And I know my heart is to feel You near
And I know my lifeIt's to do Your will
It's to do Your will
This is my desire, this is my return
This is my desire, to be used my You
This is my desire, this is my desire
To be used by You
All my life I have seen
Where You've taken me
Beyond all I have hoped
And there's more left unseen
There's not much I can do to repay all You've done
So I give my hands to use
This is my desire, this is my return
This is my desire, to be used by You
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Break My Heart
My first attempt at posting poetry...please don't laugh too hard!
my heart is torn in every direction
clinging to this
holding to that
loving and wanting
full of desiring
longing for anything
but the one thing I ought
one cure alone I see
for this treacherous heart of mine
God break it hard
wrench that away
refuse its desires
break, tear, chasten
bring me to that point
destitute, empty
where all I can see is the foot of your cross
then lift up my head
restore me
renew me
undivided I will be
but first I must be broken
oh Lord this hurts
my flesh cries in pain
my heart bleeds endlessly
my mind rebels
but those nail-scarred hands
pierced for my sin
gently bind me up
undivided at last
only a love as deep as Thine
has the courage to hurt me
to make me whole
a heart once torn this way and that
has found its great purpose
and focus
in Thee
my heart is torn in every direction
clinging to this
holding to that
loving and wanting
full of desiring
longing for anything
but the one thing I ought
one cure alone I see
for this treacherous heart of mine
God break it hard
wrench that away
refuse its desires
break, tear, chasten
bring me to that point
destitute, empty
where all I can see is the foot of your cross
then lift up my head
restore me
renew me
undivided I will be
but first I must be broken
oh Lord this hurts
my flesh cries in pain
my heart bleeds endlessly
my mind rebels
but those nail-scarred hands
pierced for my sin
gently bind me up
undivided at last
only a love as deep as Thine
has the courage to hurt me
to make me whole
a heart once torn this way and that
has found its great purpose
and focus
in Thee
Monday, September 05, 2005
My Song? (This Love by Maroon 5)
| This Love by Maroon 5 |
 "I was so high I did not recognize The fire burning in her eyes The chaos that controlled my mind" |
What 2004 Hit Song Are You?
Friday, September 02, 2005
I'm Loving It!
It's amazing to go to a school where:
- The teachers pray before each class
- Your main textbook is the Bible
- Your teacher asks for your prayer requests and cares about the condition of your soul
- The discussions always return to the main relationship in our lives: God
- People you barely know ask what God's been teaching you lately
- Everyone smiles at you as you walk past...real smiles with God's love behind them
- Even in joking, people can't help but include obscure references to the Bible
- Class discussions revolve around how Christianity agrees and disagrees with the ideas presented in the text
- For homework you memorize portions of Isaiah
- Everything centers around God and His Word
I think that my favorite class (although it is EXTREMELY hard to pick) is my Old Testament Survey class. The man who teaches it is an absolute wealth of information on the Old Testament, and I always don't want the class to be over yet when he wraps up. It's a lot of work to be in that class, but it's oh so worth it! My other classes are wonderful as well, but I'm just really loving that one right now. :-)
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