Monday, August 17, 2009
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
it's been long and hard. the first night in tulsa caitlin and i went outside for a debriefing and unwinding walk. and we were immediately struck by the way the night air here feels like having a breakdown. i think it's because i've sat in so many oklahoma summer nights and broken to pieces.
it came earlier this year, though. last year it wasn't until july that i completely broke apart, that i found corners of the church to collapse in during small breaks. this year i had two afternoons in the second week where i felt like i simply couldn't go on.
and you know, it's been just what i needed. i prayed yesterday, God help us to come to the end of ourselves and not to fall apart, but instead to trust You there. that's what i need--to see that it's only God in me that can make anything happen.
so yes, i'm bone-tired. yes, my voice is leaving me more often than not. yes, there are times i sit in my classroom and think there's no way i can face the clean-up that needs to be done before the next event which starts in forty-five minutes. but my Redeemer is faithful and true. it says in isaiah that those who trust in the Lord will renew their strength. He proves that to be true every morning when my alarm goes off. He proves it to be true every time another getAHEAD starts. He proves it to be true every time i want to sleep but need to study tomorrow's Bible lesson for another hour.
He's holding me up. i can't do this at all. but He is so strong on my behalf. it says in hebrews 11 of the people of faith that they were made strong out of weakness. i'm growing in faith and He increases His strength in me.
it came earlier this year, though. last year it wasn't until july that i completely broke apart, that i found corners of the church to collapse in during small breaks. this year i had two afternoons in the second week where i felt like i simply couldn't go on.
and you know, it's been just what i needed. i prayed yesterday, God help us to come to the end of ourselves and not to fall apart, but instead to trust You there. that's what i need--to see that it's only God in me that can make anything happen.
so yes, i'm bone-tired. yes, my voice is leaving me more often than not. yes, there are times i sit in my classroom and think there's no way i can face the clean-up that needs to be done before the next event which starts in forty-five minutes. but my Redeemer is faithful and true. it says in isaiah that those who trust in the Lord will renew their strength. He proves that to be true every morning when my alarm goes off. He proves it to be true every time another getAHEAD starts. He proves it to be true every time i want to sleep but need to study tomorrow's Bible lesson for another hour.
He's holding me up. i can't do this at all. but He is so strong on my behalf. it says in hebrews 11 of the people of faith that they were made strong out of weakness. i'm growing in faith and He increases His strength in me.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
a wednesday in the life of an intern
Most days are busy. But usually we can count on Wednesdays to pretty much top any other day of the week. (Except during Project 61, but that's an entirely other story!)
8:00 am -- Sarah and I leave the house where we're staying (I am highly medicated as I've been sidelined with a sinus infection the past 2 days).
8:15 am -- Pick-up intern checks from the Shackleford's house
8:35 am -- Pick-up the other Sarah and Rachel from where they're staying
9:05 am -- Arrive 5 minutes late. Misjudged the time again!
9:10 am -- Greet Julie and show her every nook and cranny of the church since it's her first day. I like to give the new intern tours because I show them every corner. I didn't feel really at home here until I had explored every closet, so I make sure everyone has that opportunity right off the bat. And, this way, when I say "the very back closet with the tables," they know what I mean.
9:20 am -- Meeting with Nate and the other interns who weren't there yesterday to get caught up on everything we missed. Simultaneously attempt to help Caitlin with Excel but fail miserably as I don't understand Macs.
9:35 am -- Inspect my classroom, "Class Champion." Joe decorated it for me yesterday. The best part is a Rudolph bear head hanging above the white board with a medal around its neck.
9:37 am -- Help Rachel clean the kitchen.
9:50 am -- Talk to Julie and Rachel about lesson plans for the day and what exactly a day at getAHEAD (our tutoring program) looks like. Try to share teaching tips, but can't really remember any.
10:10 am -- Major getAHEAD meeting with all the interns. Miriam stayed up til 3 typing up 7 pages of notes in a really small font so everyone would know what to do. We now undergo a crash course in the care and keeping of getAHEAD.
11:50 am -- The really fun part of the training--restraining a child safely. Much screaming as we push each other around and much amusement as Chase (kinda short) attempts to restrain Tyler (quite tall).
12:15 pm -- Lunch. Sandwiches, quite naturally. I have American and ham on cheap wheat bread with just a touch of mustard, my normal sandwich unattainable because of our current lack of Doritos.
12:30 pm -- Various last minute jobs to prepare for getAHEAD.
1:05 pm -- Leave to pick-up kids. Only a very vague idea of where they might possibly live.
1:30 pm -- I'm in the neighborhood, of that I'm quite sure. But I'm entirely unsure of where the kids might be. Six phone calls and a few unsuccessful doors later, I have to head back to teach class.
2:10 pm -- getAHEAD should have been going for 10 minutes now, but there are no kids in my classroom. Contrary to intern popular belief, that only happened once last summer. Usually I have at least one. I am bewildered but trusting God as I've been praying all day for the kids that He would bring today. He knows what He's doing.
2:20 pm -- Rachel and I go to the nearby McClure park to hand out more flyers for getAHEAD. There's a lot of people there, and we get quite a bit of interest. We'll see if any of it pans out.
3:00 pm -- Back to the church for Skills Time. Rachel teaches how to be a good friend and a good student. I make friends with a girl named Larissa, rekindle my friendship with Sondra, and haven't stopped being Makaela's friend since the wedding. Rachel makes Joe and I act out good student vs. bad student. I am cast as the good student. I feel my skills in the audition tended more towards the bad student, but Rachel changes it at the last minute. Joe does have that impish grin better suited to mischief.
3:30 pm -- Individual Time with Qwe-Qwe and then Sondra as Rachel has to drive a suspended child home. We read a poetry book (Qwe-Qwe loves poetry) and work on spelling words using alphabet cards.
4:00 pm -- Floor Time. Nate talks about the attributes of God, starting out with immutability. Graham as Kermit makes a triumphant puppet debut. My legs go solidly asleep as I have two 8 to 9 year olds in my lap and another leaning her elbow on a part of my knee that managed to be exposed.
4:30 pm -- The kids leave for home. We clean up our classrooms, do our write ups about the kids we individually "mentored" (a classier word than "tutor" according to our beloved director, Miriam Boone (that was weird.)), and then Caitlin, Rachel and I have a tea party with the uneaten snacks in my classroom. Other interns join as Miriam reads Seymour and Opal out loud. We decide to make story time a Wednesday tradition. Various jobs and brainstorming.
5:30 pm -- Dinner time. Chili with all the toppings. I hadn't realized how hungry I was.
6:00 pm -- Jerusha, Ayana and I go back to where I was earlier so Jerusha can show me where the kids live. The house of the "beaded kids" looks empty, but we leave a flyer anyway and I make a mental note to try later and then to ask Makaela where they're living. The other kids are excited to see us and want to come with us right then and there. We explain that it already happened for today, but I'll be back for them the next day.
7:00 pm -- Mission Memorization during adult Future Grace study/prayer meeting. Miriam and Hannah and I teach the kids 1 Timothy 4:12, Chris leads some songs, Joe talks to the kids about setting examples even though they're young. Much hugging of Rinnah, Annie, Amy, and Alicia. (Rinnah gives some of the greatest hugs ever, even though she's 7.)
8:30 pm -- A little more final clean up while talking to people from the church. Many of the interns play basketball in the parking lot. I'm not dressed right, am still kind of sick, and frankly just don't want to join in tonight. I talk to Dan and Rachel instead
9:15 pm -- Six interns reconvene at Starbucks to do some reading. It's gonna be due soon! As predicted, not much really gets done as we get sidetracked by talking about the day and then about...well...it all came back to God. And it was good.
11:00 pm -- A wind comes up and blows some notes out of Caitlin's journal. "My RA notes! I'm never going to be a good RA now!" She takes off running as the notes land on the roof. We try to tell her where they landed, but she seems determined to get them anyway. Realizing this, the Sarahs and I take off after her, finding her on the other side of the building looking for a ladder. She is about halfway through shimmying up a drain pipe when someone asks, "But how will you get down?" Realizing the rationality of the question, she comes back down. We stand there for a moment, pondering what to do. Just then, another gust and some papers blow off the roof near us. We all laugh, knowing exactly what they are. I call that the worship laugh, when God just works out something so perfectly that you can't help but laugh. His care is perfect and minute.
12:00 pm -- Back "home." Mind too full to fall asleep. I listen to the Killers and blog instead.
(Note: all times wildly approximate. You think I actually looked at a clock that many times in one day? Seriously now, people.)
8:00 am -- Sarah and I leave the house where we're staying (I am highly medicated as I've been sidelined with a sinus infection the past 2 days).
8:15 am -- Pick-up intern checks from the Shackleford's house
8:35 am -- Pick-up the other Sarah and Rachel from where they're staying
9:05 am -- Arrive 5 minutes late. Misjudged the time again!
9:10 am -- Greet Julie and show her every nook and cranny of the church since it's her first day. I like to give the new intern tours because I show them every corner. I didn't feel really at home here until I had explored every closet, so I make sure everyone has that opportunity right off the bat. And, this way, when I say "the very back closet with the tables," they know what I mean.
9:20 am -- Meeting with Nate and the other interns who weren't there yesterday to get caught up on everything we missed. Simultaneously attempt to help Caitlin with Excel but fail miserably as I don't understand Macs.
9:35 am -- Inspect my classroom, "Class Champion." Joe decorated it for me yesterday. The best part is a Rudolph bear head hanging above the white board with a medal around its neck.
9:37 am -- Help Rachel clean the kitchen.
9:50 am -- Talk to Julie and Rachel about lesson plans for the day and what exactly a day at getAHEAD (our tutoring program) looks like. Try to share teaching tips, but can't really remember any.
10:10 am -- Major getAHEAD meeting with all the interns. Miriam stayed up til 3 typing up 7 pages of notes in a really small font so everyone would know what to do. We now undergo a crash course in the care and keeping of getAHEAD.
11:50 am -- The really fun part of the training--restraining a child safely. Much screaming as we push each other around and much amusement as Chase (kinda short) attempts to restrain Tyler (quite tall).
12:15 pm -- Lunch. Sandwiches, quite naturally. I have American and ham on cheap wheat bread with just a touch of mustard, my normal sandwich unattainable because of our current lack of Doritos.
12:30 pm -- Various last minute jobs to prepare for getAHEAD.
1:05 pm -- Leave to pick-up kids. Only a very vague idea of where they might possibly live.
1:30 pm -- I'm in the neighborhood, of that I'm quite sure. But I'm entirely unsure of where the kids might be. Six phone calls and a few unsuccessful doors later, I have to head back to teach class.
2:10 pm -- getAHEAD should have been going for 10 minutes now, but there are no kids in my classroom. Contrary to intern popular belief, that only happened once last summer. Usually I have at least one. I am bewildered but trusting God as I've been praying all day for the kids that He would bring today. He knows what He's doing.
2:20 pm -- Rachel and I go to the nearby McClure park to hand out more flyers for getAHEAD. There's a lot of people there, and we get quite a bit of interest. We'll see if any of it pans out.
3:00 pm -- Back to the church for Skills Time. Rachel teaches how to be a good friend and a good student. I make friends with a girl named Larissa, rekindle my friendship with Sondra, and haven't stopped being Makaela's friend since the wedding. Rachel makes Joe and I act out good student vs. bad student. I am cast as the good student. I feel my skills in the audition tended more towards the bad student, but Rachel changes it at the last minute. Joe does have that impish grin better suited to mischief.
3:30 pm -- Individual Time with Qwe-Qwe and then Sondra as Rachel has to drive a suspended child home. We read a poetry book (Qwe-Qwe loves poetry) and work on spelling words using alphabet cards.
4:00 pm -- Floor Time. Nate talks about the attributes of God, starting out with immutability. Graham as Kermit makes a triumphant puppet debut. My legs go solidly asleep as I have two 8 to 9 year olds in my lap and another leaning her elbow on a part of my knee that managed to be exposed.
4:30 pm -- The kids leave for home. We clean up our classrooms, do our write ups about the kids we individually "mentored" (a classier word than "tutor" according to our beloved director, Miriam Boone (that was weird.)), and then Caitlin, Rachel and I have a tea party with the uneaten snacks in my classroom. Other interns join as Miriam reads Seymour and Opal out loud. We decide to make story time a Wednesday tradition. Various jobs and brainstorming.
5:30 pm -- Dinner time. Chili with all the toppings. I hadn't realized how hungry I was.
6:00 pm -- Jerusha, Ayana and I go back to where I was earlier so Jerusha can show me where the kids live. The house of the "beaded kids" looks empty, but we leave a flyer anyway and I make a mental note to try later and then to ask Makaela where they're living. The other kids are excited to see us and want to come with us right then and there. We explain that it already happened for today, but I'll be back for them the next day.
7:00 pm -- Mission Memorization during adult Future Grace study/prayer meeting. Miriam and Hannah and I teach the kids 1 Timothy 4:12, Chris leads some songs, Joe talks to the kids about setting examples even though they're young. Much hugging of Rinnah, Annie, Amy, and Alicia. (Rinnah gives some of the greatest hugs ever, even though she's 7.)
8:30 pm -- A little more final clean up while talking to people from the church. Many of the interns play basketball in the parking lot. I'm not dressed right, am still kind of sick, and frankly just don't want to join in tonight. I talk to Dan and Rachel instead
9:15 pm -- Six interns reconvene at Starbucks to do some reading. It's gonna be due soon! As predicted, not much really gets done as we get sidetracked by talking about the day and then about...well...it all came back to God. And it was good.
11:00 pm -- A wind comes up and blows some notes out of Caitlin's journal. "My RA notes! I'm never going to be a good RA now!" She takes off running as the notes land on the roof. We try to tell her where they landed, but she seems determined to get them anyway. Realizing this, the Sarahs and I take off after her, finding her on the other side of the building looking for a ladder. She is about halfway through shimmying up a drain pipe when someone asks, "But how will you get down?" Realizing the rationality of the question, she comes back down. We stand there for a moment, pondering what to do. Just then, another gust and some papers blow off the roof near us. We all laugh, knowing exactly what they are. I call that the worship laugh, when God just works out something so perfectly that you can't help but laugh. His care is perfect and minute.
12:00 pm -- Back "home." Mind too full to fall asleep. I listen to the Killers and blog instead.
(Note: all times wildly approximate. You think I actually looked at a clock that many times in one day? Seriously now, people.)
Saturday, May 31, 2008
fishers of men
Week One. Only two days of officially interning, but the adventures are already full force. Today I had the closest encounters with cockroaches that I've ever known as I helped the Blankenship family clean Miriam and Nate's North Tulsa apartment in preparation for their return. Rachel and I found frozen cockroaches lining the freezer door--I scraped them off into a rag that she held. When one fell on my arm and we both jumped a little, I said out loud, "It's okay, it's just dead. It's dead." By the end of the afternoon, I was nonchalantly letting the little guys (live ones, mind you) scurry all around me while Samuel and I held the bed together and Malachi tried to figure out how to assemble it. Missions training. I have now successfully conquered the fear of cockroaches. And if our preventative measures worked, Miriam won't have to.
We had "intern retreat" which really meant that we were all at the church learning "Intern Basics" and hearing both the pastors, Joe and Andrew, share their hearts for ministry. I took five full legal sized pages of notes on the things that we're planning to do this summer. My favorite part is a quote I wrote in the margin:
"Archer and Yale? That's not a good area." -- a new intern
"It's a good area for ministry." --Brother Joe*
As part of intern retreat we went out to Comanche, one of the main housing projects that we minister at. Lottie and I went directly to Chene's house, following her niece Ebony on her princess bike. Chene is a 15 year old girl who has really been responsive to our ministry, but also to other ministries involved in the projects. The main one is Victory, which preaches a health and wealth gospel. We're really burdened for Chene that she would see the true gospel and be captured by a view of God that says salvation is all about Him, not about what we can get from Him. Pray for her, and for our ministry to her.
Chene's sister, Ebony's mom, had a baby 5 months ago. Chene and Camille both take care of their nieces. I've never met Ebony's mom. But I finally got to meet her little sister and, of course, quickly fell in love with this precious baby. I sat on their front steps, feeding little Reniah her bottle and talking to Chene about her efforts to get a summer job at McDonald's or QuikTrip. I watched Lottie do bike races with Ebony and a neighbor boy while Rachel and Caitlin talked to Camille. I didn't want to leave when the van pulled up to get us. (I'm rather jealous of Miriam and Nate's apartment in the middle of it all.)
While hands-on ministry is a huge part of interning, it wouldn't be complete without the training that accompanies it. This summer we're studying the attributes of God, learning some hermeneutics, having three weekly prayer times, being involved with all the various Bible studies of the church, studying five books together, and reading other assigned books on our own. I get excited every summer for the books the pastors provide for us to study together. This year they are:
Holiness by JC Ryle
The Attributes of God by Arthur W. Pink
The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer
The Grace of Repentance by Sinclair Ferguson
Crazy Love by Francis Chan
So as not to waste any time, I started right in on Crazy Love. I was struck when he quoted the verse from Philippians which says, "For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ." It hit me that I too often don't realize the gravity of people's positions with God. If they have not been saved, they are enemies of the cross of Christ! And that is something that should bring tears. And action. Because we've been given these nets and told to catch men. He'll supernaturally provide the catch. But we have to be casting the net. (And that is a very incomplete summary of Brother Joe's intern challenge '08.)
I'm excited.
* We call the pastors Brother _____ . Everyone thinks it sounds weird at first. Everyone eventually succumbs.
We had "intern retreat" which really meant that we were all at the church learning "Intern Basics" and hearing both the pastors, Joe and Andrew, share their hearts for ministry. I took five full legal sized pages of notes on the things that we're planning to do this summer. My favorite part is a quote I wrote in the margin:
"Archer and Yale? That's not a good area." -- a new intern
"It's a good area for ministry." --Brother Joe*
As part of intern retreat we went out to Comanche, one of the main housing projects that we minister at. Lottie and I went directly to Chene's house, following her niece Ebony on her princess bike. Chene is a 15 year old girl who has really been responsive to our ministry, but also to other ministries involved in the projects. The main one is Victory, which preaches a health and wealth gospel. We're really burdened for Chene that she would see the true gospel and be captured by a view of God that says salvation is all about Him, not about what we can get from Him. Pray for her, and for our ministry to her.
Chene's sister, Ebony's mom, had a baby 5 months ago. Chene and Camille both take care of their nieces. I've never met Ebony's mom. But I finally got to meet her little sister and, of course, quickly fell in love with this precious baby. I sat on their front steps, feeding little Reniah her bottle and talking to Chene about her efforts to get a summer job at McDonald's or QuikTrip. I watched Lottie do bike races with Ebony and a neighbor boy while Rachel and Caitlin talked to Camille. I didn't want to leave when the van pulled up to get us. (I'm rather jealous of Miriam and Nate's apartment in the middle of it all.)
While hands-on ministry is a huge part of interning, it wouldn't be complete without the training that accompanies it. This summer we're studying the attributes of God, learning some hermeneutics, having three weekly prayer times, being involved with all the various Bible studies of the church, studying five books together, and reading other assigned books on our own. I get excited every summer for the books the pastors provide for us to study together. This year they are:
Holiness by JC Ryle
The Attributes of God by Arthur W. Pink
The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer
The Grace of Repentance by Sinclair Ferguson
Crazy Love by Francis Chan
So as not to waste any time, I started right in on Crazy Love. I was struck when he quoted the verse from Philippians which says, "For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ." It hit me that I too often don't realize the gravity of people's positions with God. If they have not been saved, they are enemies of the cross of Christ! And that is something that should bring tears. And action. Because we've been given these nets and told to catch men. He'll supernaturally provide the catch. But we have to be casting the net. (And that is a very incomplete summary of Brother Joe's intern challenge '08.)
I'm excited.
* We call the pastors Brother _____ . Everyone thinks it sounds weird at first. Everyone eventually succumbs.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
back in tulsa...
(Miriam and her flower girls in the bounce house)
It's been quite a while since this blog has seen any action.
Some changes in my life in this past year:
- My hair is longer
- I discovered an inexplicable talent for accounting
- I got new, fashionably modern (and slightly emo) glasses
- I got in my first car accident
- I graduated from The Master's College
- I was a bridesmaid in three weddings of dear friends
One of the things that made the wedding so crazy was the sheer size of the wedding party. Eleven bridesmaids, eleven groomsmen, nine flower girls. The flower girls were Miriam's three youngest sisters, an adopted girl from the church who has Down's, and five girls that we know through Springs of Grace's outreach ministries. None of them had ever seen a wedding before. In fact, when I was picking Makaela up for the rehearsal, her aunt told me that she had never been to a real wedding. It really struck me again how marriage has been so devalued because of sin. Throughout the whole ceremony, Brother Joe repeatedly emphasized the high and holy calling of marriage and the way that it pictures forth Who God is. That was the most beautiful thing about the wedding.
I loved spending time with the flower girls and talking to them about what it meant. I loved Kyra telling me she knew Miriam and Nate were getting married because of the way they looked at each other last summer. I loved teaching them how to walk down the aisle and how to be ladies in their dresses. I loved holding their hands during the humid picture time in the park. But my favorite part was when I drove Kyra home and we talked about the gospel and about how Jesus wants us to live the whole drive.
Talks like that make me excited about this summer's ministry. I can't wait to get involved in the lives of these kids, to go to bed worn out and crying from working to love them like Jesus would, to teach them and give them rides on my back and play ridiculous games all in the hope that they will come to see, to know, and to love Christ.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
life is a crazy mixture of hard and beautiful
...hard to watch the coldness in erica and aaliyah's eyes as their family falls apart around them, throwing bricks through windows, threatening one another with knives, dad beating mom during aaliyah's birthday party and causing the other kids to run home...
...hard to see justin again, this kid i've been praying for all year, to see some growth, some softness to the gospel in his life, and then for him to move to las vegas...
...hard to have a cheerful attitude about picking up the church again...and yet finding the strength to put on a smile and a song and pray for the kids as i clean up another one of their messes...
...hard to love through an excruciating head ache and terrible sore throat...
...hard to walk from door to door in the heat and the humidity, not knowing what encounter is behind your next knock...
...hard to not be broken enough by my sin...
...hard to get in bed after a day where the hours were too long to even calculate and then realize i still have to prepare a bible lesson for the morning...
...beautiful to rest my chin on eddie's curly head during the missionary story and cry over God's great goodness to me...
...beautiful to help qwue-qwue find habakkuk in her bible during church so she could look up her memory verse and then hear her read the whole book to herself at a whisper...
...beautiful to spend a whole evening just miriam and i, making eggplant parmesan in an amazing kitchen, driving with the moon roof open praying and talking about things that matter and how we can be spent for the kingdom...
...beautiful to have a mud fight in the fry's back yard and then have both angel and hosanna grab my hands when it was done and we were rinsed off to show me their kittens...
...beautiful to find strength whenever i read my bible or hit my knees...to realize how very much i need to be there more...
...beautiful to see a glinpse of a kindred spirit in ranisha, to work past the bitterness and anger and see her longing for love...
...beautiful to fall in love with the grace that i keep seeing more and more in the lives of the other interns and the saints at this church...
...beautiful to ponder how we can show we're crazy-in-love with Jesus in the broken neighborhoods of north tulsa...
...beautiful to attend my eighth bible study of the week and come away pondering something fresh and amazing about my God...
...beautiful to be told over and over to see and savor the glory of God in the face of Christ Jesus...
...hard to see justin again, this kid i've been praying for all year, to see some growth, some softness to the gospel in his life, and then for him to move to las vegas...
...hard to have a cheerful attitude about picking up the church again...and yet finding the strength to put on a smile and a song and pray for the kids as i clean up another one of their messes...
...hard to love through an excruciating head ache and terrible sore throat...
...hard to walk from door to door in the heat and the humidity, not knowing what encounter is behind your next knock...
...hard to not be broken enough by my sin...
...hard to get in bed after a day where the hours were too long to even calculate and then realize i still have to prepare a bible lesson for the morning...
...beautiful to rest my chin on eddie's curly head during the missionary story and cry over God's great goodness to me...
...beautiful to help qwue-qwue find habakkuk in her bible during church so she could look up her memory verse and then hear her read the whole book to herself at a whisper...
...beautiful to spend a whole evening just miriam and i, making eggplant parmesan in an amazing kitchen, driving with the moon roof open praying and talking about things that matter and how we can be spent for the kingdom...
...beautiful to have a mud fight in the fry's back yard and then have both angel and hosanna grab my hands when it was done and we were rinsed off to show me their kittens...
...beautiful to find strength whenever i read my bible or hit my knees...to realize how very much i need to be there more...
...beautiful to see a glinpse of a kindred spirit in ranisha, to work past the bitterness and anger and see her longing for love...
...beautiful to fall in love with the grace that i keep seeing more and more in the lives of the other interns and the saints at this church...
...beautiful to ponder how we can show we're crazy-in-love with Jesus in the broken neighborhoods of north tulsa...
...beautiful to attend my eighth bible study of the week and come away pondering something fresh and amazing about my God...
...beautiful to be told over and over to see and savor the glory of God in the face of Christ Jesus...
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
the soles of [my] shoes are all worn down
the girl i babysit was sitting in my passenger seat and staring at herself in the mirror this afternoon. then she started turning her hands over and over in her lap. i asked her what she was thinking about. "my hands are really me," she said with a laugh.
i laughed back and asked her what she meant. she held her slightly crooked hands up next to her face. "my hands look like me. and my face doesn't." it sounded weird at first but i understood. our souls are similar like that...we just understand each other. (who knew that could happen with an emo jewish 13 year old and a 20 year old christian college student?) i knew how she felt...have you ever passed a mirror and wondered who that was inside? i don't look like i feel i should. (and i think you'd have to be made of some similar stuff to mariah and i to understand what that means.) we sat in my van outside of hebrew school and listened to death cab for cutie. and both of us pondered our hands.
i laughed back and asked her what she meant. she held her slightly crooked hands up next to her face. "my hands look like me. and my face doesn't." it sounded weird at first but i understood. our souls are similar like that...we just understand each other. (who knew that could happen with an emo jewish 13 year old and a 20 year old christian college student?) i knew how she felt...have you ever passed a mirror and wondered who that was inside? i don't look like i feel i should. (and i think you'd have to be made of some similar stuff to mariah and i to understand what that means.) we sat in my van outside of hebrew school and listened to death cab for cutie. and both of us pondered our hands.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
some thoughts in a coffee shop
i'm sitting in java and jazz right now...it's become a second home for me as of late.
caitlin is working on her powerpoint and rachel and danielle on a massive persuasion project. i am avoiding outlines.
there's a couple sitting off to my right and they just can't stop looking into one another's eyes and touching each other's faces. they don't see anyone else. and i can't decide who's stranger...this couple so into one another or me who can't imagine being that wrapped up in one person. maybe someday.
the other night we randomly met a guy in here who had just moved to the area and we gave him the names of our churches. a couple of women have been sitting at a table near me and just talking for the past hour and a half. and as i've asked rachel, "what would it feel like to go to coffee shops without homework?" i can't picture such a state.
i think that's why i like java and jazz. i realize that there really is life beyond college. i see the little kids trail their parents into the store and run around on the newhall coffee company logo on the floor. i watch a small child cautiously tiptoe around the edge of the counter before her dad swoops her back to safety. i see the rushed housewives and the business men looking at their watches and the kids who sit outside and smoke and the juniorhighers out on "dates" and the screenwriters trying to make it big and the couples falling in love or trying to pick up the pieces of a relationship...and i see again that the world is so much bigger than me. and i am amazed at my God who is orchestrating it all.
the barristas here have become friendly faces. rachel now has a usual. someone put up a poem on the bulletin board in the bathroom and rachel and i talk about posting some of our own attempts at poetry. and it's funny how a coffee shop can begin to feel a little like home. it's the people i'm sure. one of my friends finally admitted that she was in love and that's how she described it...feeling at home with him, no matter how far away home really was. that sounds lovely to me.
i'm an expert people watcher. i wonder if you can put that on a resume? i love collecting bits and pieces of people's lives from what they do and say and then piecing together an entire life from that information and my overactive imagination. today i was waiting to pick up kids from bridgeport elementary school and i made up an entire life story for the man sitting on the wall next to me. and i saw dr. wong. that doesn't have anything to do with anything, but i think this is rather a stream-of-consciousness update.
i think maybe why i couldn't imagine being like that couple is that i people-watch even when i'm with those i love most. maybe i even do it more with them.
i haven't eaten all day. today was the day of fasting and prayer for newhall. but i'm not sure this fast has had its intended effect in me. i've been praying for newhall all day, but not in lieu of eating. i've just been praying for newhall whenever i would normally pray for other things...when i'm driving or walking or that little chunk of time between lunch and work. i spent my lunch hour in the caf, just not eating but selling spring party tickets instead. and i spent my dinner time at work. i think i might go get some food...is that wrong? i just feel really tired and i know it's lack of calories. i still have quite a night ahead of me...and a seven o'clock meeting tomorrow morning. i need to figure out how to really fast and not simply skip meals. i do that anyway, just out of sheer busyness.
today i looked at the sky. it's always a better day when i remember to do that. some days i forget and i walk along watching my feet and i forget all the vast grandeur above me. i remembered today and as i walked out of my new testament class i just tipped my head back, looked at the vast blue, and breathed deeply. and at those moments, God sends calm to my heart. it sounds mystical when i type it out, but i promise that it's not charismatic in any non-biblical way. it's just me remembering where i fit in this world and breathing out of sheer dependence on God. i call it worship breathing in my head. sometimes i just take my breath for granted, but i can't when i look at the sky.
i looked at the sky last night too. i was on a beach in la and the wind was blowing as hard as it could and my feet were soaking wet from foolishly standing too close to the waves. i was wrapped in a sleeping bag that smelled like my childhood and the moon was directly overhead. and i just leaned back and breathed.
caitlin is working on her powerpoint and rachel and danielle on a massive persuasion project. i am avoiding outlines.
there's a couple sitting off to my right and they just can't stop looking into one another's eyes and touching each other's faces. they don't see anyone else. and i can't decide who's stranger...this couple so into one another or me who can't imagine being that wrapped up in one person. maybe someday.
the other night we randomly met a guy in here who had just moved to the area and we gave him the names of our churches. a couple of women have been sitting at a table near me and just talking for the past hour and a half. and as i've asked rachel, "what would it feel like to go to coffee shops without homework?" i can't picture such a state.
i think that's why i like java and jazz. i realize that there really is life beyond college. i see the little kids trail their parents into the store and run around on the newhall coffee company logo on the floor. i watch a small child cautiously tiptoe around the edge of the counter before her dad swoops her back to safety. i see the rushed housewives and the business men looking at their watches and the kids who sit outside and smoke and the juniorhighers out on "dates" and the screenwriters trying to make it big and the couples falling in love or trying to pick up the pieces of a relationship...and i see again that the world is so much bigger than me. and i am amazed at my God who is orchestrating it all.
the barristas here have become friendly faces. rachel now has a usual. someone put up a poem on the bulletin board in the bathroom and rachel and i talk about posting some of our own attempts at poetry. and it's funny how a coffee shop can begin to feel a little like home. it's the people i'm sure. one of my friends finally admitted that she was in love and that's how she described it...feeling at home with him, no matter how far away home really was. that sounds lovely to me.
i'm an expert people watcher. i wonder if you can put that on a resume? i love collecting bits and pieces of people's lives from what they do and say and then piecing together an entire life from that information and my overactive imagination. today i was waiting to pick up kids from bridgeport elementary school and i made up an entire life story for the man sitting on the wall next to me. and i saw dr. wong. that doesn't have anything to do with anything, but i think this is rather a stream-of-consciousness update.
i think maybe why i couldn't imagine being like that couple is that i people-watch even when i'm with those i love most. maybe i even do it more with them.
i haven't eaten all day. today was the day of fasting and prayer for newhall. but i'm not sure this fast has had its intended effect in me. i've been praying for newhall all day, but not in lieu of eating. i've just been praying for newhall whenever i would normally pray for other things...when i'm driving or walking or that little chunk of time between lunch and work. i spent my lunch hour in the caf, just not eating but selling spring party tickets instead. and i spent my dinner time at work. i think i might go get some food...is that wrong? i just feel really tired and i know it's lack of calories. i still have quite a night ahead of me...and a seven o'clock meeting tomorrow morning. i need to figure out how to really fast and not simply skip meals. i do that anyway, just out of sheer busyness.
today i looked at the sky. it's always a better day when i remember to do that. some days i forget and i walk along watching my feet and i forget all the vast grandeur above me. i remembered today and as i walked out of my new testament class i just tipped my head back, looked at the vast blue, and breathed deeply. and at those moments, God sends calm to my heart. it sounds mystical when i type it out, but i promise that it's not charismatic in any non-biblical way. it's just me remembering where i fit in this world and breathing out of sheer dependence on God. i call it worship breathing in my head. sometimes i just take my breath for granted, but i can't when i look at the sky.
i looked at the sky last night too. i was on a beach in la and the wind was blowing as hard as it could and my feet were soaking wet from foolishly standing too close to the waves. i was wrapped in a sleeping bag that smelled like my childhood and the moon was directly overhead. and i just leaned back and breathed.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Skid Row is never the same two weeks in a row.
This last Friday night I met a man named Earl. He's a Vietnam war veteran, a drunk, and a drug addict--and wanting the truth. On Thursday, he and a friend were sitting on the corner of Towne and 5th just drinking and talking like any other day on Skid Row. But his friend got up and walked across the street. And a Toyota pick-up pulled up and a shot sounded. And Earl's friend went to face his eternal fate.
Earl didn't explain why his friend was shot. But he did explain the impact that event had on him. I read Job out loud to him and he started crying. I read John 1 and we talked about the Savior, how our only hope is that of Job, "I know my Redeemer lives, and in the end He will stand on the earth."
He begged us to tell him how he can be sure of his eternal fate...I can still hear his earnest "please, please tell me" ringing in my ears. And so my friends explained salvation, about how we have to make Jesus Christ both savior and lord. And there's the problem. Earl doesn't want to give up his sin. "It's so hard here," he said. And I believe him. It's so hard for me to fight sin living at the Master's College, surrounded by almost every conceivable help to living a holy life. How much harder it must be on the streets of Skid Row, where sin in its basest and most addicting forms is available at every corner.
We talked to him for almost two hours, reading the Word and preaching the truth. And still when we left he told us that he was going to finish his bottle before going to sleep. My heart broke. How could he so earnestly desire to know the truth and still cling so stubbornly to his besetting sins? We tried to show him the true beauty of God and how much more valuable He is than anything else, we prayed for him, we (I) cried as we brought his plight before God. And yet I still can't shake the thought that he's going to sleep tonight on the sidewalks of Skid Row not knowing where he might wake up.
So I'm asking you to pray for him. Pray that God will break the power sin has over him in order to bring Earl to Himself. Please.
This last Friday night I met a man named Earl. He's a Vietnam war veteran, a drunk, and a drug addict--and wanting the truth. On Thursday, he and a friend were sitting on the corner of Towne and 5th just drinking and talking like any other day on Skid Row. But his friend got up and walked across the street. And a Toyota pick-up pulled up and a shot sounded. And Earl's friend went to face his eternal fate.
Earl didn't explain why his friend was shot. But he did explain the impact that event had on him. I read Job out loud to him and he started crying. I read John 1 and we talked about the Savior, how our only hope is that of Job, "I know my Redeemer lives, and in the end He will stand on the earth."
He begged us to tell him how he can be sure of his eternal fate...I can still hear his earnest "please, please tell me" ringing in my ears. And so my friends explained salvation, about how we have to make Jesus Christ both savior and lord. And there's the problem. Earl doesn't want to give up his sin. "It's so hard here," he said. And I believe him. It's so hard for me to fight sin living at the Master's College, surrounded by almost every conceivable help to living a holy life. How much harder it must be on the streets of Skid Row, where sin in its basest and most addicting forms is available at every corner.
We talked to him for almost two hours, reading the Word and preaching the truth. And still when we left he told us that he was going to finish his bottle before going to sleep. My heart broke. How could he so earnestly desire to know the truth and still cling so stubbornly to his besetting sins? We tried to show him the true beauty of God and how much more valuable He is than anything else, we prayed for him, we (I) cried as we brought his plight before God. And yet I still can't shake the thought that he's going to sleep tonight on the sidewalks of Skid Row not knowing where he might wake up.
So I'm asking you to pray for him. Pray that God will break the power sin has over him in order to bring Earl to Himself. Please.
Monday, January 29, 2007
even when i don't see...
And again it's been forever since I've written.
And again God has amazed me beyond words. I was struck in chapel today by His grace, by the fact that grace is the only reason for....well, for anything really. His grace is everywhere. And by it I am held.
There was a night this past week that a string of events left me questioning God's hand. A night when I couldn't see why things happened the way they did, and I thought that God was answering my prayers in a way completely contrary to His character.
Oh me of little faith.
I kicked against the goads and tried my hardest to doubt His care. But like I said, I am held. I can't describe how difficult it was for my flesh to open my Bible that night, but I did, and I went to sleep with Psalm 73 ringing in my head.
The next afternoon I read Job...and I filled two pages in my journal with verses from that book about His sovereignty and my human weakness. And I rested in the truth that "He wounds, but He binds up; He shatters, but His hands heal."
But the comfort of the Word wasn't the end of His plans for my struggle. Later that afternoon, the girl I babysit and I had an incredibly hard but incredibly worth it conversation about the story of Job and about the existence of Satan and about the problem of sin and evil and about God's plans for humanity. And God turned my failures and broken heart into something beautiful and hopefully maybe even eternal.
And I am so glad that I am held.
And again God has amazed me beyond words. I was struck in chapel today by His grace, by the fact that grace is the only reason for....well, for anything really. His grace is everywhere. And by it I am held.
There was a night this past week that a string of events left me questioning God's hand. A night when I couldn't see why things happened the way they did, and I thought that God was answering my prayers in a way completely contrary to His character.
Oh me of little faith.
I kicked against the goads and tried my hardest to doubt His care. But like I said, I am held. I can't describe how difficult it was for my flesh to open my Bible that night, but I did, and I went to sleep with Psalm 73 ringing in my head.
When my soul was embittered,
when I was pricked in heart,
I was brutish and ignorant;
I was like a beast toward you.
Nevertheless, I am continually with you;
you hold my right hand.
The next afternoon I read Job...and I filled two pages in my journal with verses from that book about His sovereignty and my human weakness. And I rested in the truth that "He wounds, but He binds up; He shatters, but His hands heal."
But the comfort of the Word wasn't the end of His plans for my struggle. Later that afternoon, the girl I babysit and I had an incredibly hard but incredibly worth it conversation about the story of Job and about the existence of Satan and about the problem of sin and evil and about God's plans for humanity. And God turned my failures and broken heart into something beautiful and hopefully maybe even eternal.
And I am so glad that I am held.
Monday, December 04, 2006
all day...
...I've had a rock in my right front pocket. When my fingers slip between the fabric and find it, I smile to myself. This rock is my lasting reminder of one of the best hours of my life...an hour spent on the beach with three of my best friends the night of my 20th birthday. Memories of praying and dancing and attempted trespassing and worshipping and taking scores of pictures and holding our breath through tunnels all spring to mind when I reach into my pocket and find this small five-sided rock. And it reminds me of the goodness of God, of the longing for Him I get when I'm at my happiest. And it reminds me that even the week before finals cannot dwarf His love for me or defeat His care for me. And for that I am very thankful.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
you know you're in college when...
I realized that last night was the first night in a very long while that I had gone asleep in one day and woken up in an entirely new one. And that was because I went to bed at the "early" hour of 11:45.
Tonight was Placerita's "Turkey, Tarts and Testimonies" celebration. My friend Jared entered a pumpkin cheesecake in the men's bake-off in hopes that he might win the grand prize of a turkey. If he didn't, we weren't going to have a turkey at our Thanksgiving celebration. He won a Cornish Game Hen. Hardly enough meat for 5 people. Happily someone took pity on these college students whose best shot at a turkey is a pie baking contest...and a donated turkey now sits in my RD's fridge waiting for us to brave the mysteries of turkey cooking and carving.
I've just gotten the strangest feeling lately as I walk around campus...it's been longer than a year since all of this was new to me, and now it feels like normal life. And it's extremely weird to walk into the lounge of a dormitory and get that "home" feeling, or to find it normal to push yet another tray around the caf in order to get my next meal, or to walk up the hill for the third time in one day after a 10:15 pm meeting and mentally prepare myself for the rest of the evening's schedule. My roommate just looks at me as girls run screaming down the hall at midnight and asks, "When did this become normal?" I have no idea.
My thoughts of late have really been much deeper than all of this, but I don't know how to type them into this little box. Can I just say that I'm not at all the same person I was when I began this blog? I was reading it the other day...and I was struck by how much different I am. You can't tell as much just from what I wrote, but I remember the things running through my head, the things driving who I was back then...and those things are dramatically different now. But yet not as different as they ought to be.
I really ought to get back to researching the presentation that I must give at 11:45 tomorrow...
Tonight was Placerita's "Turkey, Tarts and Testimonies" celebration. My friend Jared entered a pumpkin cheesecake in the men's bake-off in hopes that he might win the grand prize of a turkey. If he didn't, we weren't going to have a turkey at our Thanksgiving celebration. He won a Cornish Game Hen. Hardly enough meat for 5 people. Happily someone took pity on these college students whose best shot at a turkey is a pie baking contest...and a donated turkey now sits in my RD's fridge waiting for us to brave the mysteries of turkey cooking and carving.
I've just gotten the strangest feeling lately as I walk around campus...it's been longer than a year since all of this was new to me, and now it feels like normal life. And it's extremely weird to walk into the lounge of a dormitory and get that "home" feeling, or to find it normal to push yet another tray around the caf in order to get my next meal, or to walk up the hill for the third time in one day after a 10:15 pm meeting and mentally prepare myself for the rest of the evening's schedule. My roommate just looks at me as girls run screaming down the hall at midnight and asks, "When did this become normal?" I have no idea.
My thoughts of late have really been much deeper than all of this, but I don't know how to type them into this little box. Can I just say that I'm not at all the same person I was when I began this blog? I was reading it the other day...and I was struck by how much different I am. You can't tell as much just from what I wrote, but I remember the things running through my head, the things driving who I was back then...and those things are dramatically different now. But yet not as different as they ought to be.
I really ought to get back to researching the presentation that I must give at 11:45 tomorrow...
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Friday, October 27, 2006
amen
i repent, i repent of my pursuit of america's dream
i repent, i repent of living like i deserve anything
of my house, my fence, my kids, my wife
in our suburb where we're safe and white
i am wrong and of these things i repent
i repent, i repent of parading my liberty
i repent. i repent of paying for what i get for free
and for the way i believe that i am living right
by trading sins for others that are easier to hide
i am wrong and of these things i repent
i repent judging by a law that even i can't keep
of wearing righteousness like a disguise
to see through the planks in my own eyes
i repent, i repent of trading truth for false unity
i repent, i repent of confusing peace and idolatry
of caring more of what they think than what i know of what we need
by domesticating you until you look just like me
i am wrong and of these things i repent
--Derek Webb
i repent, i repent of living like i deserve anything
of my house, my fence, my kids, my wife
in our suburb where we're safe and white
i am wrong and of these things i repent
i repent, i repent of parading my liberty
i repent. i repent of paying for what i get for free
and for the way i believe that i am living right
by trading sins for others that are easier to hide
i am wrong and of these things i repent
i repent judging by a law that even i can't keep
of wearing righteousness like a disguise
to see through the planks in my own eyes
i repent, i repent of trading truth for false unity
i repent, i repent of confusing peace and idolatry
of caring more of what they think than what i know of what we need
by domesticating you until you look just like me
i am wrong and of these things i repent
--Derek Webb
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
...i shall again praise Him...
Psalm 42
To the choirmaster. A Maskil of the Sons of Korah.
1As a deer pants for flowing streams,
so pants my soul for you, O God.
2My soul thirsts for God,
for the living God.
When shall I come and appear before God?
3My tears have been my food
day and night,
while they say to me continually,
"Where is your God?"
4These things I remember,
as I pour out my soul:
how I would go with the throng
and lead them in procession to the house of God
with glad shouts and songs of praise,
a multitude keeping festival.
5Why are you cast down, O my soul,
5Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation 6and my God.
My soul is cast down within me;
My soul is cast down within me;
therefore I remember you
from the land of Jordan and of Hermon,
from Mount Mizar.
7Deep calls to deep
at the roar of your waterfalls;
all your breakers and your waves
have gone over me.
8By day the LORD commands his steadfast love,
and at night his song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.
9I say to God, my rock:
"Why have you forgotten me?
Why do I go mourning
because of the oppression of the enemy?"
10As with a deadly wound in my bones,
my adversaries taunt me,
while they say to me continually,
"Where is your God?"
11Why are you 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.
I need more hope. I need to remember the power of my God. Brother Andrew said that thinking people need the most hope. I have been thinking too much. It is time to learn to trust, time to rest in hope of my Savior. The world gets me downcast and I forget the days I would lead a procession of rejoicing into the house of my God. But when I remember Him and all that He has worked on my behalf, how can I ever dare to doubt? Where is my God? He is right here...He holds me in the palm of His hand. What can happen to me that's not for my good? What can happen to those I love that doesn't come directly from the loving hand of a sovereign God? Oh Lord, I believe. Help Thou my unbelief!
Saturday, October 21, 2006
life just keeps spinning...
You might notice that today seems to be a huge influx of postings. That's because it is. Some of the posts that have been lingering around as drafts for awhile were finally published. I just really felt like writing today...
This afternoon miriam and I drove up a mountian and then scrambled up to the top where we picked wildflowers and breathed in the silence. All the cars and houses lay far below us and I marvelled at all the hub-bub going on below while we just stood up there and dreamed of heaven. I needed that. I needed the perspective a mountian brings...because I've been getting lost in all the details lately. I needed to be called back to the big picture of God's infinite glory.
I am glad for mountains and friends and musicians who make me dream bigger.
This afternoon miriam and I drove up a mountian and then scrambled up to the top where we picked wildflowers and breathed in the silence. All the cars and houses lay far below us and I marvelled at all the hub-bub going on below while we just stood up there and dreamed of heaven. I needed that. I needed the perspective a mountian brings...because I've been getting lost in all the details lately. I needed to be called back to the big picture of God's infinite glory.
I am glad for mountains and friends and musicians who make me dream bigger.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
friday the 13th
It's been a week of falling apart. I don't remember how to live a life that's so busy with things that just don't seem to matter as much. I miss small hands around my neck. I miss singing as I run up and down the hall getting things together for the next project. I miss driving to the projects with a van full of kids and then crying as we left them. I miss praying hard. I miss crying hard. I miss loving more than I thought was possible.
It's exactly the sort of night where I could laugh or cry at any moment. It's the perfect sort of night for dinner with Miriam and Danielle and Rachel. We all put on heels and jackets and listen to the perfect love song as we drive to the restaurant. We ask the waiter for free refills on everything and eat off each other's plates without asking. It's nice to know that's ok. We talk about life and love and random memories from before we knew each other and take pictures of our drinks and our feet.
We run into our rooms and change as fast as possible. Outside Slight, someone's playing music. I dance down the hill in my favorite tennis shoes. It's the kind of night when I feel everything a little more deeply and life hurts because it's so beautiful--it's funny how the more beautiful life gets the more desperately I want heaven.
We hug the squishy tree outside Del Taco and Rachel writes me a love note on a piece of the bark. On the way to Skid Row, I think about dying. It wouldn't be so bad, I decide. My heart is full of hurt for the people I'm about to talk to and the people I've left in Tulsa and Bellingham and Santa Clarita. There's so many big and little things going wrong just in my world. I close my eyes and see the mural at Comanche--"HOPE."
God is sovereign over the blue state of my heart and Rachel and I talk to a Christian named Chris who loves Keith Green and Tozer and knows his Bible so deeply and passionately that I regret wasting so much time in not hungrily studying it the way I ought to. I am encouraged...when I thought I was coming to Skid Row to encourage others.
We drive back to school through a thunderstorm. I love that. I love that about God--how He orchestrates the weather in such glorious ways. I love that He sent that thunderstorm when my soul needed a reminder of His power. I love that He made my Friday the 13th a very lucky day...if by luck you mean sovereignly ordained. I love that every day is my lucky day because the God of heaven holds me in His hand.
It's exactly the sort of night where I could laugh or cry at any moment. It's the perfect sort of night for dinner with Miriam and Danielle and Rachel. We all put on heels and jackets and listen to the perfect love song as we drive to the restaurant. We ask the waiter for free refills on everything and eat off each other's plates without asking. It's nice to know that's ok. We talk about life and love and random memories from before we knew each other and take pictures of our drinks and our feet.
We run into our rooms and change as fast as possible. Outside Slight, someone's playing music. I dance down the hill in my favorite tennis shoes. It's the kind of night when I feel everything a little more deeply and life hurts because it's so beautiful--it's funny how the more beautiful life gets the more desperately I want heaven.
We hug the squishy tree outside Del Taco and Rachel writes me a love note on a piece of the bark. On the way to Skid Row, I think about dying. It wouldn't be so bad, I decide. My heart is full of hurt for the people I'm about to talk to and the people I've left in Tulsa and Bellingham and Santa Clarita. There's so many big and little things going wrong just in my world. I close my eyes and see the mural at Comanche--"HOPE."
God is sovereign over the blue state of my heart and Rachel and I talk to a Christian named Chris who loves Keith Green and Tozer and knows his Bible so deeply and passionately that I regret wasting so much time in not hungrily studying it the way I ought to. I am encouraged...when I thought I was coming to Skid Row to encourage others.
We drive back to school through a thunderstorm. I love that. I love that about God--how He orchestrates the weather in such glorious ways. I love that He sent that thunderstorm when my soul needed a reminder of His power. I love that He made my Friday the 13th a very lucky day...if by luck you mean sovereignly ordained. I love that every day is my lucky day because the God of heaven holds me in His hand.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
outreach week...
Last week I went back to one of my heart's homes. It's amazing how much of God you can see in one short week...through all-but-orphaned children, through the treasure of the Word, through God-centered preaching, through serving with others, through other people, through sunsets over New Mexico, through sovereignty worked out in continuous small miracles...
Two experiences stand out among all that happened in that crazy short week. Both happened on Wednesday. I was picking up kids at Apache, and only Qwue-Qwue was in my van as we circled the apartment complex. She noticed the writing on my left wrist. "What does that say?" It's a one word reminder to myself--"Love."
"Who do you love, Qwue-Qwue?" I twist around so I can look into her eyes.
"I love God." Tears come to my eyes...you'd have to know her story to understand completely. Miriam says later that we don't know what a 7-year-old born on Skid Row whose parents deal drugs would look like as a Christian...but it might look a lot like Qwue-Qwue. She goes on to tell me, "Yesterday I was trying to read my little Bible but my mommy came and told me to put it away." How does a 7-year-old follow Christ when her own mother is upset when she reads her Bible? When her mom's boyfriend hits her?
On the way back to Apache, I had three kids in my car--siblings, Jessica, Myella and Anthony. They were upset that they couldn't stay for Mission Memorization with some of their friends. But we couldn't get ahold of their mom, so we had to take them back. Most parents at the projects wouldn't even care and might not even notice, but we want to keep them informed any way. When we got to their home, their mom was there, so they asked her if they could go back with me. She agreed and they went inside to get coats. I have a brief phone conference and we're unsure if it's okay for them to come back as they'll miss dinner and most of homework help time. Finally we decide it's okay, and they're back in my van, much happier than they were on our ride to the apartments. I ask them what they like about Kid's Club, the VBS/tutoring program they've been coming to. "I like the songs and the games and learning about Jesus," Jessica answers.
"What do you know about Jesus?" I ask.
"Um...He died on the cross."
I pause to see if there's more and then ask, "Do you know why He died?" She doesn't, so I explain the entire gospel as best I can. The car ride flies past. Finally I try to sum it up for her: "Jesus died so we could go to heaven and be with God when we die, and so we can turn away from our sin and toward Him."
She gets it. "I want to turn away from sin and follow Him." I am amazed at God's sovereign plan for this drive that my flesh had been kicking against. He gave me that one-on-one time so that Jessica could understand the cross. His plans for my days are so much grander than anything I create.
Two experiences stand out among all that happened in that crazy short week. Both happened on Wednesday. I was picking up kids at Apache, and only Qwue-Qwue was in my van as we circled the apartment complex. She noticed the writing on my left wrist. "What does that say?" It's a one word reminder to myself--"Love."
"Who do you love, Qwue-Qwue?" I twist around so I can look into her eyes.
"I love God." Tears come to my eyes...you'd have to know her story to understand completely. Miriam says later that we don't know what a 7-year-old born on Skid Row whose parents deal drugs would look like as a Christian...but it might look a lot like Qwue-Qwue. She goes on to tell me, "Yesterday I was trying to read my little Bible but my mommy came and told me to put it away." How does a 7-year-old follow Christ when her own mother is upset when she reads her Bible? When her mom's boyfriend hits her?
On the way back to Apache, I had three kids in my car--siblings, Jessica, Myella and Anthony. They were upset that they couldn't stay for Mission Memorization with some of their friends. But we couldn't get ahold of their mom, so we had to take them back. Most parents at the projects wouldn't even care and might not even notice, but we want to keep them informed any way. When we got to their home, their mom was there, so they asked her if they could go back with me. She agreed and they went inside to get coats. I have a brief phone conference and we're unsure if it's okay for them to come back as they'll miss dinner and most of homework help time. Finally we decide it's okay, and they're back in my van, much happier than they were on our ride to the apartments. I ask them what they like about Kid's Club, the VBS/tutoring program they've been coming to. "I like the songs and the games and learning about Jesus," Jessica answers.
"What do you know about Jesus?" I ask.
"Um...He died on the cross."
I pause to see if there's more and then ask, "Do you know why He died?" She doesn't, so I explain the entire gospel as best I can. The car ride flies past. Finally I try to sum it up for her: "Jesus died so we could go to heaven and be with God when we die, and so we can turn away from our sin and toward Him."
She gets it. "I want to turn away from sin and follow Him." I am amazed at God's sovereign plan for this drive that my flesh had been kicking against. He gave me that one-on-one time so that Jessica could understand the cross. His plans for my days are so much grander than anything I create.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
2:36 am
You know you are either too well-rested or too highly caffeinated when it's this time of night and you've been laying in bed for half an hour wide awake. Or maybe you just have a lot on your mind. Whatever it is, I haven't been able to get to sleep these past few nights, which is highly abnormal for me.
I painted tonight with the girls on my wing...which was relaxing and frustrating. I think that all of my artistic endeavors end up being an attempt for me to express my soul, and when it doesn't turn out like I think it ought, I get upset. And it pretty much never turns out like I think it ought. So I'm neither a poet nor an artist as much as I'd desperately like to be both.
Yesterday (well, two days ago) I went to our lovely TMC library and checked out a bunch of books that I felt it was my duty as an English major to read but I never did read as a result of my unorthodox highschool education, during the first half of which my teacher (Mom) thought I was over-Englished and the second half of which I mostly read humanistic, feministic and/or enviromentalistic essays (or rants, as the case may be). (That was an atrocious sentence, but it's too late for me to care. I'm very glad that I'm not required to diagram it.) Anyways, back to the point. I am reading 1984 (I know, it's shocking that I never read it) and I'm pretty sure that it's way cooler to me now than it would have been had I read it as a sophomore. I am so fascinated by it, especially the stuff that deals with language, literature and journalism, of course, and I'm only about 1/4 of the way in. I only hope the rest of my reading remains this enjoyable.
My computer is now fixed and, as a result, I now have my iTunes back. And as much as I missed my music and still enjoy it, I'm just really feeling like reinventing myself musically...or at least expanding my musical horizons. So if anyone has any suggestions, I'm more than willing to listen to just about anything...once.
Today was my second or third day at work (I forget which). And it didn't go too well. I had to run a bunch of errands, none of which were successful--partly through my own fault (it helps to have your credit card with you) and partly through the unavailability of various items. It was stressful and depressing, and it didn't help that I hadn't had down time since 8:00 am. As a result of that demanding schedule, I didn't eat anything until dinner, which was probably a bad strategy on my part. I was so messed up that I pretty much cried all the way back to the dorms...for no reason and every reason. But it was also good in a way--I hadn't really cried since I found out my cousin died suddenly last weekend, and I know I've been needing to.
I think one of the reasons today was a bad day was that I was far too me-focused. I concentrated on what I needed to do and how little time I had to actually do it and I forgot what I'm really here for. This week (well, since last Friday really), I've been trying to make every day a continuous praise song to God for His many graces to me, and it's incredible how that improves my perspective. The little things are huge when you see God behind them. But today I failed at that...and suffered as a result.
Classes are great...I might as well outline them while I'm wide-awake and in a typing mood.
Advanced Grammar: has made me start mentally evaluating and/or diagramming sentences as they come out of my mouth, thereby driving me nearly insane...but it's still really fascinating to study grammar. I know, I'm a nerd.
Shakespeare: any class in which Prof Horner plays a Bohemian shepherd with a Scottish accent and people have to audition their roars to see who gets to chase Antigonus offstage is worth going to...if only for the sheer entertainment value. I'm still not sure how I feel about Shakespeare though.
Postmodernism: Suzuki is amazing. And funny. And I'm really getting it, which is a huge plus. Also, I'm a postmodernist. I'm not sure how to clearly explain that to everyone who is shocked as they read that sentence, but my goal is to eventually be able to explain to the average layperson in five minutes why I am a postmodernist. Stay tuned.
Ministry to the Urban Poor: simply put--amazing. This is where my heart is and I love sitting around a table and being able to think through all the issues surrounding this ministry alongside of others who are passionate about it.
New Testament I: Behle is great and I get to read the gospels for homework. Pretty awesome stuff.
Philosophies of Education: I've had a few too many intense English courses for this to really fascinate or challenge me, but it's nice to have one class I can (somewhat) relax in. Also I am formulating my own philosophy of education, which is very interesting but as of yet almost entirely undeveloped.
Well, this has been a very grammatically challenged post with an extreme lack of coherence, so I beg of you to forgive me. Perhaps at an earlier hour I might think better...but it's doubtful.
Grace to you.
I painted tonight with the girls on my wing...which was relaxing and frustrating. I think that all of my artistic endeavors end up being an attempt for me to express my soul, and when it doesn't turn out like I think it ought, I get upset. And it pretty much never turns out like I think it ought. So I'm neither a poet nor an artist as much as I'd desperately like to be both.
Yesterday (well, two days ago) I went to our lovely TMC library and checked out a bunch of books that I felt it was my duty as an English major to read but I never did read as a result of my unorthodox highschool education, during the first half of which my teacher (Mom) thought I was over-Englished and the second half of which I mostly read humanistic, feministic and/or enviromentalistic essays (or rants, as the case may be). (That was an atrocious sentence, but it's too late for me to care. I'm very glad that I'm not required to diagram it.) Anyways, back to the point. I am reading 1984 (I know, it's shocking that I never read it) and I'm pretty sure that it's way cooler to me now than it would have been had I read it as a sophomore. I am so fascinated by it, especially the stuff that deals with language, literature and journalism, of course, and I'm only about 1/4 of the way in. I only hope the rest of my reading remains this enjoyable.
My computer is now fixed and, as a result, I now have my iTunes back. And as much as I missed my music and still enjoy it, I'm just really feeling like reinventing myself musically...or at least expanding my musical horizons. So if anyone has any suggestions, I'm more than willing to listen to just about anything...once.
Today was my second or third day at work (I forget which). And it didn't go too well. I had to run a bunch of errands, none of which were successful--partly through my own fault (it helps to have your credit card with you) and partly through the unavailability of various items. It was stressful and depressing, and it didn't help that I hadn't had down time since 8:00 am. As a result of that demanding schedule, I didn't eat anything until dinner, which was probably a bad strategy on my part. I was so messed up that I pretty much cried all the way back to the dorms...for no reason and every reason. But it was also good in a way--I hadn't really cried since I found out my cousin died suddenly last weekend, and I know I've been needing to.
I think one of the reasons today was a bad day was that I was far too me-focused. I concentrated on what I needed to do and how little time I had to actually do it and I forgot what I'm really here for. This week (well, since last Friday really), I've been trying to make every day a continuous praise song to God for His many graces to me, and it's incredible how that improves my perspective. The little things are huge when you see God behind them. But today I failed at that...and suffered as a result.
Classes are great...I might as well outline them while I'm wide-awake and in a typing mood.
Advanced Grammar: has made me start mentally evaluating and/or diagramming sentences as they come out of my mouth, thereby driving me nearly insane...but it's still really fascinating to study grammar. I know, I'm a nerd.
Shakespeare: any class in which Prof Horner plays a Bohemian shepherd with a Scottish accent and people have to audition their roars to see who gets to chase Antigonus offstage is worth going to...if only for the sheer entertainment value. I'm still not sure how I feel about Shakespeare though.
Postmodernism: Suzuki is amazing. And funny. And I'm really getting it, which is a huge plus. Also, I'm a postmodernist. I'm not sure how to clearly explain that to everyone who is shocked as they read that sentence, but my goal is to eventually be able to explain to the average layperson in five minutes why I am a postmodernist. Stay tuned.
Ministry to the Urban Poor: simply put--amazing. This is where my heart is and I love sitting around a table and being able to think through all the issues surrounding this ministry alongside of others who are passionate about it.
New Testament I: Behle is great and I get to read the gospels for homework. Pretty awesome stuff.
Philosophies of Education: I've had a few too many intense English courses for this to really fascinate or challenge me, but it's nice to have one class I can (somewhat) relax in. Also I am formulating my own philosophy of education, which is very interesting but as of yet almost entirely undeveloped.
Well, this has been a very grammatically challenged post with an extreme lack of coherence, so I beg of you to forgive me. Perhaps at an earlier hour I might think better...but it's doubtful.
Grace to you.
Monday, September 11, 2006
September 11
Went back to Skid Row the past two weeks...I'd forgotten that my heart lives on those broken streets...
Both of the past two weeks I've ended up in long and intense conversations with Muslims. It hurts to look into eyes that gaze back with intelligence and lucidity and then realize that they are just as entrapped as those who look at me through eyes clouded with drugs and alcohol. It hurts to listen to them butt heads with my beloved brothers and sisters who are ministering with me, to hear them respond to my "I'll be praying for you" with an "I'll be praying for you as well." To know that all I can do is pray. Nothing I say will convince them that Jesus is the only way to God.
But isn't that how it always is? It's only that I feel that my words have an actual impact on the other people I minister to, when in reality those conversations are just as much a product of God's grace. How many times to I have to keep coming back to the reality that I am nothing? So, so often I begin to think that I can make an impact on people through my own merit, when it is always, only, all of God.
I am so lost when dealing with Islam. I was really encouraged in my Postmodernism class today when Prof Suzuki somewhat addressed this issue...in academic terms, but still it helped me see why I have such huge roadblocks to conversation when dealing with Muslims. He said, "The Muslims do not subscribe to our narrative and play the completely wrong game against us." There's such a disconnect between us and them that we're not even on the same playing field, let alone playing by the same rules.
This makes God's grace so much more amazing. He reaches down and miraculously transforms everything about a person so they come to saving faith in Him. Isn't that incredible?
Both of the past two weeks I've ended up in long and intense conversations with Muslims. It hurts to look into eyes that gaze back with intelligence and lucidity and then realize that they are just as entrapped as those who look at me through eyes clouded with drugs and alcohol. It hurts to listen to them butt heads with my beloved brothers and sisters who are ministering with me, to hear them respond to my "I'll be praying for you" with an "I'll be praying for you as well." To know that all I can do is pray. Nothing I say will convince them that Jesus is the only way to God.
But isn't that how it always is? It's only that I feel that my words have an actual impact on the other people I minister to, when in reality those conversations are just as much a product of God's grace. How many times to I have to keep coming back to the reality that I am nothing? So, so often I begin to think that I can make an impact on people through my own merit, when it is always, only, all of God.
I am so lost when dealing with Islam. I was really encouraged in my Postmodernism class today when Prof Suzuki somewhat addressed this issue...in academic terms, but still it helped me see why I have such huge roadblocks to conversation when dealing with Muslims. He said, "The Muslims do not subscribe to our narrative and play the completely wrong game against us." There's such a disconnect between us and them that we're not even on the same playing field, let alone playing by the same rules.
This makes God's grace so much more amazing. He reaches down and miraculously transforms everything about a person so they come to saving faith in Him. Isn't that incredible?
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