Back to School

I will be back in Chicago in just a few days. 

This means several things for me. I'll be starting afresh at my studies and a lot of other things at school. But the greatest change is the closing of this season of waiting on the Lord. Its been a hard season, but a good one. I have been made to understand myself as I am, and also as the Lord sees me--two different pictures, but equally meaningful. 

    The hardest parts were when Gina left home. At the same time I was engaged in a lot of spiritual battles. My family needed my support, people at work needed the gospel, and I felt very alone and too weak to adequately meet those needs. I felt like I needed to meet them, anyways. 

   I was reading II Chronicles 12:9-10 last night before I went to bed. Part of it says, "For my strength is made perfect in weakness." Stephen Curtis Chapman has song on the same topic. One of the lyrics says, "Where my strength comes to an end, it's there Your strength begins." This is the one thing that ties together everything God has been teaching me this season. And I am so very, very thankful to have had this time with my family, and with Him. 

   But now, its back to school for me! To tell the truth I am very excited. Though I asked my mother the other day, "Are you ever going to be o.k. with me living somewhere else?" I asked her this because it really makes me sad to make her sad by leaving. But I need to. 

    When I'm not thinking about how mother feels I get very excited about going back up to Chicago. There will be lots of snow, and the 'L' again, and finding a new church, and getting to know my new room mate and sister/brother floors, and new classes with new professors. Also, I really want to practice harder than I ever have before and become a much better pianist. I'm exciting about growing in that area. 

   I have already been emailing my room mate, Joy Mase. She sounds really cool! I think we will get along well and be able to help each other a lot. She has already been praying for me before she knew who I was! I never even thought of praying for her. So, the Lord is already teaching me through her example. 

   The only thing I have to be anxious about is the finances at school. I have one job possibility, but it may not start making money for me until late January. The problem is, I have spent all my money on the December payment and don't have much left for the January payment due in a few days. So, I am wondering how stringent Moody is on their "canceling registration" policy for late payments. Oh well, the Lord knows. And if I end up having to leave Moody this semester, it will be alright. But I'm pretty sure that won't happen. :D

               

To sing or not to sing?

I find the idea of directing elementary choirs something irresistible at the moment. I am accompanying Miss Susie's elementary choir at Travis Academy of Fine Arts this fall. I have watched the children learn music in leaps and bounds, and I've witnessed the magic of Miss Susie's teaching methods work wonders with them. I consider Susie to be a bit of a genius, but most of what she does was learned through music study and experience. Both of which are not impossible for me to have as well.
   The fact of the matter is, I would love to do what she does. And while I know how hard I would have to work, and how long I would have to be in school to get there, I really think its worth it. If I knew for sure that's what God has in the majority of my future, I think I would be changing my major in a heartbeat. But I am not for sure.
   Yet I can't help but reflect that you can be a missionary (my other dream/calling) without a college degree, while its nearly impossible to teach music professionally without one! The logic of the matter leads me to believe that I would be better off with even a rudimentary music education than a missions degree. These are things that I am weighing in my heart and mind right now.
    Last spring I made the decision to change my major from ethnomusicology to international missions. But as I reflect and contemplate returning to Moody this spring, I am starting to doubt the soundness of that decision. For one thing I can't remember my motives, and I suspect that they stemmed out of the completely lazy attitude I was steeped in at the time. Another thing is, I am pretty sure there is not one decision I made that semester that I have not lived to regret.
    Setting logic aside, I am certain that the Lord will direct in whichever direction I should go, and that in every circumstance His wisdom will prove to be the best. So, we shall see what happens in the next months.

This Winter

In the winter-time we see
the falling of the autumn leaves
the misting of the morning breeze
and many lovely, icy things

The boys bring wooden logs
and set them on the hearth to thaw
We bring out coats, gloves, hats, and all
and think "How short was this year's fall!"

It's wintertime already.

I cuddle up inside my quilts tonight
and look upon the silvery light
the moon's soft glow that creeps inside
and makes my room a pretty sight

I love the cold, the moon, the frost
I love the time with family, lost
whenever I'm away so oft'
and can't come home because of cost

This winter I am happy.

The balance between Pride and Self-degradation

There is a girl in her early twenties that I know, who is very accomplished and intelligent.
She was home schooled like me, and her schooling allowed for all of her strengths and talents
to be very thoroughly explored and refined. She began to sing at an early age, and memorized many
short scriptures before she began to read. At age seven she began her music education and continued
to develop her musical talents until she had won a trophy and several medals for her voice. She was
part of the most elite youth choir in her area, and travelled with this choir to the state competition--said
to be the most competitive competition in the country because of the size of the state. She was not only
a vocalist, but also a pianist. She was not only a musician but also and artist, a writer, and a modest
architect. All throughout her childhood she drew plans for amusement parks, schools, dormitories, cities, farms, ranches, and multistory homes. This young woman was ambitious, honest, and possessed a spirit of excellence. When she was old enough to get a job she was known at her workplace as the cleanest, mildest-tempered, most trustworthy employee. Her employer trusted her with a great deal of responsibility and everyone went to her for help and even for advice on matters of private life! When she made a mistake on occasion or was late for work no one cared because it was so unusual for her--most of the time she was five minutes early! When she went to college, her professors all liked her and enjoyed spending extra time getting to know her outside of the class. She was a leader and an example to the girls in her project group, and other students came to her for advice and critique on their papers. She was a hard worker and got excellent grades, while still working to earn her tuition and keeping up her music studies and artistic hobbies. This young woman's life goals were completely unselfish and honorable. She wanted to serve the helpless and poor and devote her life to education of the highest quality.

This young woman would have much to pridefully boast about if she found the occasion to.

There is another young woman I know--well, she is more of a 'girl' than a 'woman'. She was also intelligent and gifted from a young age. But this girl had a very big problem that was quite embarrassing. I will describe to you her problem. At a young age she began to notice at church that people liked her. And so she went around asking them for candy and gum and mints, and talking with a very big mouth about everything she knew. She was a smart-alec in sunday school and she didn't care if the other kids didn't like it--she knew all the answers! She also had a secret. She liked the sunday school teacher's son, and every time her family was leaving she would run and find him and give him a big kiss. She was sure she would marry him when she grew up--who cared if he was six years older than her? When she was sixteen, this girl had to move to another state and another church with her family. She studied at home and took classes once a week for choir, and band, and stuff. She didn't like that school because she felt so awkward. She didn't have clothes like the other girls, and she was too nerdy to pretend there was nothing between her two ears like they did--but the boys seemed to like girls like that and not the nerdy ones like her. That was another problem: boys. She was just starting to like boys and felt so guilty about it. It made life really awkward and uncomfortable and she wished she could stop. Then she met a nerdy guy like herself who turned out to be a pretty good friend. She wasn't doing too well in school--math was hard and she cheated all the time. She couldn't help it, she was afraid of getting a bad grade and disappointing her parents! And besides, she wanted to be a missionary, so why did she need to go to school anyhow? The whole liking-boys-thing really blew up when she started to like the nerdy guy who had become her best friend. He suddenly started ignoring her and her whole world was a handful of broken glass in her hand. Eventually she moved on from that and graduated with a class of complete strangers--all the airheads she wanted to be accepted by who didn't know she existed. Then she went to college and the boy-trouble started again. Her second semester she cheated on a class again and went home with bad grades and disappointed parents. To top it all off she went off to a summer camp and spent the whole time there distracted by--you guessed it--another one of those boys. Back at home, she worked to save money but couldn't gather enough self-control to stop buying things. What's more, she was in her own room--the room full of unfinished paintings, stories, drawings, plans, dreams---all unfinished. She knew they never would be finished. Her life was a shambles.

 If this girl had occasion she could easily fall into the trap of self-degradation.

Not surprisingly, these two people are actually one and the same; they are me. There are rare moments when I take a moment in my busy life to reflect and feel quite contentedly like the first young woman. Those are often the moments that prelude my saying something stupidly prideful and then, realizing my error, plummet to the degradation of the second girl. In fact, most of the time I stay in the low-point of view and think of myself as that girl. If there is a balance between pride and self-degradation I think it is humility.
     Humility is something that intrigues me and is very, very elusive. C.S. Lewis said that a humble person doesn't degrade themselves, and certainly does not parade themselves--they just seem to happily forget all about themselves in serving others. I think that as long as they are serving others as if those 'others' are Christ Jesus, Lewis' definition is correct. I also know that in my pursuit of humility I have found it to be a very tricky business. For you can't think about humility and be humble--then you are merely a penitent prideful person wanting to better themselves. And if you degrade yourself in trying to be humble then obviously, you miss the mark because your attention is on yourself! Humility is a subconscious thing that pervades the whole person so that they could not be anything but humble if they are really themselves.
      Jesus never had to think about being humble. He was born with the highest credentials a man could possess: The Son of God. But when He acted in that role and healed people, He hushed their praises. He could have rested upon the circumstances of his low birth and poor upbringing to bring him the sort of 'humility' most people recognize. But self-degradation was never on his mind. He was completely humble because, knowing full well who He was and what the world thought of Him, He simply spent all His thought and energy concentrating on what was more important: The will of His father. He was not at all self-focused but all God-focused. He was perfectly humble; and He is my hope and encouragement when I feel the shame of self-degradation, or the folly of my pride.

Living on a Tithe

I work at a Pizza restaurant where families come and get tasty, gourmet pizza for a moderately expensive price...and almost always excellent service. I get to be a server and make anywhere from 16 to 40 dollars a night...depending on how busy the restaurant is.
     When I get home and empty my pockets, I separate my wad of cash into two different mugs: one for the bank, and one for my tithe, which goes to a missionary in Ukraine. One night I stood before my mugs sitting in the window sill and looked at the twenties and fives in "my" mug, and then at all the dollar bills in "God's mug". The thought struck me, "It would be really cool to be that missionary and live off of somebody's 10%. In fact, it would be even more awesome if I lived off the 10% and sent the 90% to the missionary! That would be cool. And it would take a lot of faith and a lot of hard work at cutting costs!
 I told my Mom, "Someday, when I'm not in college and I'm still single, I'm going to do that."

  Funny thing is, God decided that right now is a good time to start...in a sense.

When I got the job at the restaurant I kind of thought I was going to make a lot of money. I would work hard, get to the top fast, and God would bless me with a lot of customers who would pay me big tips. Well, that kind of didn't line up with His plan. Because although I work super hard and tire myself out with the strain of "excellent service" I have rarely had a customer appreciate my efforts and show me by giving an extra large tip. In fact I often get stingy tips in return for my hard work.
    But before you begin to think that I am poor, let me tell you about the heavenly riches that the Lord has been raining down on me in loads and loads!

   The first week I was standing and rolling silverware. The busboy, Derek, walked up to me and we started talking. Then I asked him what he thought about Muslims. He hadn't thought much, but he said something about not thinking they were all terrorists...some of them were pretty good people! So we talked about good people. And I made it a game of twenty questions: "Do you think a good person would curse? steal? murder?" etc. At the end of the conversation we talked about Jesus and how He came to save all us "not-so-good" people!

    Another time I was singing a song and the expo guy, Roberto, asked me what I was singing. It was a praise song, so I sang it louder. Later on he said, "You're a Christian, right?" And we discussed what we believed in--he's a catholic. From some of the things he said in that conversation I believe he has been saved, even though he is a catholic. At the end of the conversation I asked him if he were married. He said, "Yes. Well, kind of."
  My friend explained that because his parents had gotten a divorce and then later on remarried, he did not feel that marriage was necessary for two people. He expressed fear that later he and his wife would split up. He also said that He was afraid of answering to God for not keeping the marriage together.
I asked Him, "Roberto, when we talked about God being all-powerful and incredibly loving, we were talking about the God who holds marriages together. Don't you think He's powerful enough to keep you and your wife together if you trust Him?"
  He laughed and said He needed to think about that. But I could see that he was pleased with that idea. I hope he will take it to heart.
 
   Now before I paint myself as some heavenly angel in a dark and hurting world...let me tell you about last Friday night!

 At the beginning of the night I went to the office to check in with my manager and get his o.k. to start work. He said to me, "Lindsey, don't change. Don't be like all the other _____ people in this restaurant!"
In my heart I said, "Yeah, I'm waaay better than all those people." And I told him I wouldn't change.
That night was the worst night I've EVER had at a restaurant. I broke two plates, I bumped into customers, I got people's orders wrong, I mixed up table numbers and checks, etc. I'd never been worse.

    When the second plate went dashing to the floor, brownie and all, I told Roberto. "God is trying to teach me that I need to be humble!" And I had that conversation with my boss in mind. I realized that I had missed an opportunity to share with him why I was different...because of Jesus. In my pride, I had taken all the credit and missed a gospel-sharing opportunity. I felt terrible.

  The next day I was working in the morning. I went in to the office to check in with the same boss, and the most amazing thing happened. He said to me, "Lindsey, don't change." And this time I responded rightly. The Lord had redeemed my mess up and given me another chance. Not only that, my boss heard about the good news of Jesus Christ! God is so good and mercy and grace never end.

 Every week I count up my money and find that I've fallen short of the goal again. I'm not going to return to Moody with half of my tuition saved up. But at the end of each night at the restaurant, I don't feel disappointment. I feel satisfaction...contentment...purpose. God has a reason for me to be there. And He'll take care of my future, full bank account or empty bank account.

Time

More to come soon..

Idealism

At the end of summer camp, during my exit interview, I was informed that I was an idealist. In case you need some help with that one here's a definition. "Someone who forms and pursues unrealistic ideals." My director encouraged me not to be too idealistic about people, especially, since everyone comes from a different background of experience and has their own personality. I must confess that I've always found it hard to put myself in another's person's shoes. I can easily put myself in their situation--but thats the things--I've still got myself in the equation and I always give advice based on what I would do if I were in their situation. But they are not me and my advice doesn't help them much. Neither does it help me understand and love other people as they are.
   I'm realizing that I have been idealistic about my family as well. I came home and expected certain things in each of my siblings and my parents, but have been disappointed. Because of disappointment I've lost my motivation to serve my family in the greatest capacity possible. Because I have become so disillusioned and discouraged I've lost my purpose in being home and have become bored and grumpy. And all the time I'm wondering why I can't make myself cheer up!
   The Lord has set me up. First He told me I was an idealist. And then He put me in a situation where I will be forced to either live miserably or get rid of my idealism! I think He's very smart. Because now I'm going to try and not get frustrated when people act selfishly, pridefully, or un-lovingly. I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to do instead, but I'm sure that's part of my lesson. So I'll leave it to Him.

Galveston Island

This last weekend the Durant family took a two-day vacation to Galveston in southern Texas. The weather was beautifully warm--I love the heat, remember--and the water perfect. Of course, I had to get used to the nasty, salty taste of the sea which made me feel sick if I got much in my mouth. But that didn't prove to be much of a damper on the fun we had.

   Gina, Jon, Seth, and I walked way out into the ocean...it never really got very deep where we were at...and played Giants, and all sorts of fun stuff. We found baby jellyfish that were clear and not at all painful to touch. They looked and felt like snot and at first it was quite creepy to have them brush against you in the water. They didn't really swim, I don't think, but just floated around and lots got stuck on the beach. After awhile we got used to them and tried to see who could catch the biggest one.

    The second day at the beach we found lots of hermit crabs in the mud, of all sizes. Some were very tiny and several were quite as big as your thumb. We put them in the shallow and watched them come out of their shells and either bury themselves in the sand or begin scuttling back toward the sea. They were very curious! Seth even found a tiny crab on a length of muddy rope he pulled out of the mud.

   The height of our vacation was on the second day when we were out swimming. Gina, Jon, Seth, and I had all gone out deep up to our chests again. We played some more giant and just swam around in the waves. There weren't very many because it was a rather calm day and the sea was pretty flat. Suddenly I looked behind me, and then Gina and Jon did too. We saw a black dorsal fin about twenty feet out from us, swimming parallel to the shore. Without a word we all took off for shore with a great deal of splashing--the thought crossed my mind that the shark might hear us and come after the noise if it hadn't noticed us there already! We were deathly frightened--so much so that nobody said a word. After a moment I got my breath and shouted to Mom and Dad at the shore with the little boys, "Shark!" The others immediately echoed the cry. I looked behind us and saw the fin come up again, and another a few feet behind it. There were two!

       As I looked behind us, I thought--"better make sure we're all here"--and just then Seth popped up out of the water, just where we all used to be standing. He had been digging for hermit crabs and had just found a great big one. As he wiped the water out of his eyes I saw the dorsal fin appear again right behind him! Gina and I started shouting at him to swim back, there was a shark, and we weren't kidding! He looked a little alarmed and started wading back...but not fast enough for us! We shouted for him to hurry faster!

   Thankfully, the fins turned out to be dolphin fins, and Seth got back to the shallow quite safe. But after that, we didn't go out so far. We didn't even stay much longer on the beach. But we did have a good laugh at ourselves, and so did the few people swimming around us. (the beach was pretty deserted that day) The boys all said they wished it would have really been a shark so that we could say we had escaped after being really close to one. But me--I'm just glad the incident turned out as it did.

Family Project

The funniest thing happened two weeks ago Sunday...the four oldest Durant children decided to write a book! And not just any sort of book--a fantasy.
 Jon is writing the comedy, Seth the heroics, Gina the romance, and I am in charge of everything technical and historical. I also am learning Sindarin for our lovely elves to speak. This book will be called "The Book of Elements: Water, Stone, Fire, Air, and Earth."And it is a five part book that tells how three planets collided in space and merged into one, throwing an odd assortment of folk together. Of course, not all these folk get along and there are plenty of battles, rescues, and intrigue in our proposed plot. Also a bit of romance...can't do without that. There's also plenty of nerdy historical and linguistic content for my own benefit. The project may end up never being finished--but the boys, Gina, and I are having a lot of fun at it!

If your curious, I've attached a piece below. :D

Lindsey

“Arphen Badhor, this history I am copying, does it contain the account of the Nirnaeth?” he asked, timidly, for fear of disturbing the elf’s intent working over the great manuscript on the table. The elf looked up and gazed at the hobbit until he thought the old man had gone into a trance or a doze.

“I heard you were an inquisitive hobbit, Master Fileg,” he said at last, “but few ever wish to hear a retelling of that terrible time.”

         The hobbit felt chastised, but his curiousity was not to be abated so easily. He flipped to the back of the book when the elf’s eyes were not on him, and searched the last chapters for the account of that ancient upheaval. The history ended with a certain king he had never heard of, and he was once again itching to ask the elf a question.

“Arphen Badhor, may I interrupt you?” he whispered politely. The elf looked up at him again, sighed, and motioned for him to come to the doorway, which stood open to allow light and air. The hobbit shuffled to the elf’s side quickly and wondered if the old elder were going to tell him the story himself! Fileg was not a child anymore, but he was still a very young hobbit, and loved a good story, especially if it were in poetic form.  The oak tree Torthond, curved the doorway to make a perfect seat for the elderly elf, and the hobbit climbed up onto a short stool opposite.

“Curiosity is not a negative trait in one so young, Master Fileg, for there is still hope that you will be able to mix with it discretion. I have heard that you are not only a story-lover, but also what is better, a story-writer. And as all good story-writers know, the best way to become good at story-telling, is to hear a story told. So I will tell you the tale of the Nirnaeth, and as I am not inclined to tell it to you everyday, you must take heed to remember it.” Here the old elf paused to lick his lips and look toward a jug of water at the other end of the room. The hobbit jumped down from his perch and brought the mug. Then the elf took a noisy gulp such as old folk do when they are enjoying a cool, refreshing drink.

“Ah!” he said at last, “And now, the Dance of the Sun-King.”

“Oh!” exclaimed the hobbit, “But I thought—“

“Listen, small one.” And the elf cleared his throat once more before he began on the age-old tale. “Long ago, when the princes and princesses of Oyarsa still danced before the throne of the Sun-King, there lived a beautiful princess, who was both fair and good. Her name was Elgwilith—Star in the Sky—and she was the youngest of Oyarsa’s many children who danced before the King.”

         Arphen Badhor paused to sip his spring-water once more, and the

         Hobbit blinked twice and sighed, quite enthralled by the tale.

“Elgwilith’s dancing partner was a funny lad—tall and stately, but very shy. He was often quiet to the point of mystery and no one liked him much except the princess, simply because they knew nothing about him. Elgwilith loved him. He danced with her gently and skillfully, and there was a great kindness in his eyes. But these two who danced at the end of the Sun-King’s great hall did not go wholly unnoticed. There was one prince who admired the princess above his own partner and also envied the shy prince who danced with her. In fact he quite hated the poor prince and let his venom be known through many terrible flashes of outrage.”

“Oh my!” Fileg interjected.

He knew this was an allegory for the twelve planets that spun in orbit before the brilliant sun-star in the east, and the thought of a planet making “terrible flashes of outrage” quite took his breath away. He also was a bit confused, because he knew that the elves had written the folklore about the Nirnaeth and wondered why they referred to their own planet as a shy and mysterious prince, and the planet that lay to the south of them, the beautiful princess. Why should the elves’ own dear land not be the hero or heroine of their own story? But he set these thoughts aside as Arphen Badhor continued with his story.

“Finally, the prince’s demonstrations came to the attention of the Sun-king and his anger was aroused against the rebellious prince. He had him banished and flung him out of the dance. But the evil prince’s heart took this opportunity to bloom and it soon bore a bitter fruit. In his fall the wicked prince sped swiftly down upon on the shy prince, who did not notice. The princess Elgwilith saw his danger and stepped more quickly than the dance’s time allowed in an effort to flee the prince’s path of destruction. Alas! Her heart led her to folly and with an awesome clash, the three collided and the shy prince was crushed fatally between the enemy and his lover. The dance of the Sun-King was never broken, but the sorry trio spun silently with the shock of the collision into the vast, eternal throng of lookers-on. Such was the Nirnaeth.”

Fileg had fallen into a sorrowful trance and his gaze rested on the bare and withered foot of the elf, which peeked out from underneath the long grey robe he wore. The robe was gilded with faded letters of the Tengwar. Fileg could not read the ancient elf-script, but his eyes focused and his thoughts came one again to the present. He looked up to find the elf leaned forward on his cane, mug in hand, watching him.

“Why do you want to know so much about the old histories and things beyond your time, Master Fileg?”

“Oh…” Fileg smiled nervously, “I don’t know. I’ve always been interested in such things. Ever since I was a small child. Ever since I had a curious dream one midsummer’s night, in fact. “

“And what did you dream?” The elf asked in perfect seriousness.

         Fileg had never spoken of the details of his dream. He did not dream often and mostly forgot what those fitful dreams contained. But that one particular dream had worked in him a change that made him so curious and quiet—so un-hobbit-like, as his mother put it. Somehow, he felt like the elder elf should know. Perhaps he could help Fileg make some sense out of the dream.

“I was out in the field with my siblings, sleeping underneath the stars on a clear, midsummer’s night twenty years ago when I was still a very young dwarf. The night was warm and we all fell asleep quickly after our evening meal. I was lain out between my two older brothers, Brog and Caun, fast asleep when I began to dream. And in my dream it seemed that I woke and seeing the sun’s first sliver peeking round the dark moon, saw that it was almost daybreak. There was a thick mist along the ground, yet when I stood I found that I flew above the mist and could see through it as if it were a clear pool. It was still very dim and chilly about, and so I flew toward my house to go and get some breakfast. But just as I crested the hill near our camping place, a sunbeam lit the mist afire in front of me and I felt compelled to follow its path to the east. Of course, you know what lies to the east—the great cliff edge that drops to the lower world! In my dream I followed the sunbeam all the way to that very edge and looked down over. What I saw in my dream I have never seen in real life, because my eyesight is not as sharp as an eagle’s. But I remember that sight more vividly than any real memory. I saw the surface of the lower world! I saw cottages, roads, farms, cattle, and all sorts of people milling about. The light of the sun had reached their regions much sooner than it does our platuea and they were already busy about their work. I watched for a long time, noticing many odd and peculiar things about the way life is lived down there. And then suddenly I awoke again between my own two brothers, with the sunlight peeking around the moon’s edge just as it had in my dream. As you can imagine, I got up on my feet right away and ran as fast as they would carry me to the cliff’s edge. But all I saw is what I have always seen when I go and peer over into the depths—cloud tops and the hazy blue of hills far in the distance.”

“And you have wanted to see that sight again, have you not?” the elf asked him.

“Of course! It was so beautiful and intriguing. In fact, I have often wondered if it were possible to find a way down.”

“Ah!” the elf exclaimed, pulling himself off of his perch and hobbling across the room. “You are not the first to wonder that—but all the others have never returned from trying.” He sat before the great manuscript and turned to look at Fileg. “Its not worth considering.” 

Love Hurts

It is not for me to discern perfection from folly,
It is not for me to know times and seasons before they come,
It is not for me to bind chains or to send forth decrees,
Yet it is mine to love.
And if love can't teach perfection, give divination, or never-failingly anchor
its object to myself--
How painful is that love.

Home Again, Jiggity-Jig

Well, the summer's over now and it's back to work for Lulu. I've had the time of my life the past ten weeks and it seems like an age since I was home. I flew in about a week ago and have been recuperating and catching up on sleep.

On the way back I got stuck in Denver for 17 hours because our plane had mechanical problems that delayed us so that I missed my flight to Dallas and had to wait--with about a million other people all wanting to go to Dallas--for the next available flight. I followed the standby group around for awhile and talked with them. Had a good conversation with one guy--a southern baptist who believes in evolution?--about why the Bible is absolute truth and why that's an important part of the testimony that supports Jesus' claim to being the Son of God. I had quite a few conversations that night...

I talked with two Mormon kids; I encouraged a catholic young lady who expressed the desire to become a Methodist because they actually study the Bible as opposed to just going through the motions of tradition as she had experienced in the catholic church; I chatted with an Indie-Rock musician and a nurse who'd just come back from a trip to Haiti, while standing in line for an hour. All the while I kept thinking, "Well, Lord, that was a good conversation. Is that the last one? Can I go home now?" Honestly, I was tired of airports and just wanted to get out of there, but looking back with an eternal perspective, it was a very successful evening and I wouldn't trade my delayed flight for any other.

Once I got home I was inundated with discontent. Ugh. How I hate that! But it happens. Last night I told Mother: I need a job, I need a car, I need this house to be clean (it was a crash area), I need money to go back to school, I NEED A HUSBAND!!
      Then we both laughed at me. Because its not about what you have but where you are. And I'm in my house, with my family, doing quiet, at-home things while looking for a part-time job. That's where I'm at and that's where I'll be until the Lord moves me. I can (and probably will) make myself completely miserable with looking to everything that I WANT. Or I can stop looking around and just be satisfied where I am. So, if you think of it, friends, pray for contentment for me.

As far as plans go, I am going to try and keep very busy this fall. I will be helping to homeschool my little brothers, Judah and Israel...and maybe help keep Jon and Seth in line too. Hehehehe
I am accompanying my friend, Susie Fergus' elementary choirs on Mondays. That's something I love and I also really enjoy working with Miss Susie--so there's a very positive part of this fall.
I went out yesterday and talked to people at twelve different restaurants that are just down the street from my house. I got one interview and have to go back for more applications later this week. Hopefully I will get the job where I'm interviewing...a nice little mexican restaurant. Its within biking distance and I can work as a waitress for a couple extra hundred dollars a week. If that is what the Lord works out.
Then I am also working twice a week in the mornings with a family friend. Their daughter went through a traumatic experience a year ago and emotionally was very hurt. She needs some help and so I am teaching her piano and guitar and working with her on schoolwork, etc. We'll become friends and hopefully I can help her heal. I love this kind of work because its not just work--its very much of a ministry.

After working at camp for ten weeks I have realized my passion. I think God has put this in me and I just didn't really notice it before. I love doing ministry that involves music, teaching, and children or youth. Its what I've been doing all summer, and I've never done anything I enjoy more. All the times I've done ministry with any other age group or in another setting I haven't enjoyed it as much. And even now God has provided this job with our family friend so that I can continue developing skills as a counselor and teacher. He is so good and I can't wait to see where He's going to take this! I am not sure, but I think I would like to make a school in the Middle East or East Africa that functions like a school during the fall and spring, but is a summer camp in the summer! That would be awesome and I'd get to work with orphans and then other kids too. Because I think the school would be a boarding school and have a lot of orphans there. But who knows, it could end up being any kind of school/camp. We'll see what the Lord has in store.

For now, I must try to be content and learn what I can from these experiences here at home. After all, I'm going to be a Sophomore, then a Junior soon. And who knows how many times I have left to spend months and months with my family. Its hard to think of moving "home-base" to somewhere else. But when you grow up, that happens. So I'll try and enjoy these family times while I can.

Firsts

A lot has happened in the last 9 weeks! I've done lots of things for the very first time and so I thought I'd make a list :D

First time in...
Colorado
Montana
Wyoming
South Dakota
a town as small as Ekalaka :D

First time playing...
paintball
woodsball
lacrosse
ninja-wha

First time...
rappelling off of a cliff (it was 60 ft tall)
having lunch while river rafting
riding in the back of a dump truck
driving a bus...ok it was a mini bus :)
working as a camp counselor
working as a sound man (girl?)
seeing Sanctus Real, NeedToBreathe, and Jars of Clay live
camping out under the open sky...and getting rained on
making a fire with only paper, a car lighter, and bugspray ;)
fire-throwing
waging a prank war
liking a hot guy
seeing a real turkey
shooting clay pigeons
meeting a hissing beetle
mowing
weed eating
shooting a rifle
starting a vehicle without a key
jumping to a trampeze off a 29 ft. pole
eating an onion ring
cooking breakfast over an open fire
having a vehicle stall on me
tackling someone
standing underneath a waterfall
having a huge mud fight with ADULTS!!
leading a song in worship that I don't know
having a secret from my family that they're not going to find out about till I get home
wearing basketball shorts
not wearing my rings for more than a few days
rode a 500 ft. zipline
cracking over 300 eggs for one meal (no, I didn't eat them all)
seeing baby fawns in the wild
riding mountain bikes on a mountain
riding a unicycle


That's all I can think of for now...I'm sure there's much more I've forgotten!

Lessons in Intimidation

Camp has become ingrained--and I really am missing home, while feeling like this is family at the same time. I have finally gotten used to Montana's sudden storms that materialize out of a clear sky within minutes. I have gotten used to people teasing me and learned to not take everything so seriously. I've learned to fail and let it roll off my back. I've learned my own limits of energy and strength.

This week has been very interesting also because I am not counseling and other stuff's been going on. Last week I got pretty burned out and asked Pat if I could have this week off of counseling. I'm still doing music and leading worship, but I got sick on Tuesday and was extremely grateful that I didn't have a cabin and had enough time off each day to take long naps and get rested up.

Sunday I got myself into some trouble. Well, you could call it that, but it hasn't bit me back too much as of yet. So, to explain: there's this guy here at camp--the director's son--named Jordan, who is pretty famous for pranking. In previous years he has stolen girl's clothes and frozen them solid. He's put green dye in people's shampoo. He and his dad have dunked people in the kitchen sink, etc. This summer he got his girlfriend all wet and then covered her in flour. So, there's a lot of people here who won't mess with him.

So Sunday the staff went out to the Rolando's for dinner. All the previous staff hid their shoes inside the house, but us newbies left ours outside on the porch. Well, after dinner we discovered that Jordan--according to tradition--had pitched all our shoes off the porch into the yard. So I asked his dad where his shoes were at. Then I went, right before time to leave, and put two hand-fulls of ice in the toes of his shoes. He was so mad! Later I told him it was me--he hadn't even suspected me--and he said he was going to get me back. So all week we've been going back and forth with little pranks and his haven't really worked very well. I've got all my stuff hidden and I've got lots of spies on him. Hehehe.
Its been really fun and even though sometimes he comes up to me and is really intimidating, I've learned that there's not really much he can do to me and so I shouldn't be afraid.

I hate to turn this into a spiritual lesson, but you know me! I was thinking the other day about Jordan and I's prank war. And just like he can be intimidating because he's bigger, faster, and stronger than me...I know I don't have to be afraid because I'm evidently smarter than him! So in the same way I ought to think of the enemy. I've been afraid of demons for awhile and this has often tormented me very miserably, especially if I'm along at night. But I know that the enemy can't do anything to me. And so I don't have to be afraid of him. Not because I'm smarter than him, but because Jesus has overcome him and has given me that victory.

Please pray that I will get well and not have to fight this cold anymore. It makes leading worship and having energy to teach music a challenge. But God is doing His work in spite of my weakness! Also, I'm planning on going home this fall to work. Possibly at a day care teaching music, giving piano lessons to friend's children, etc. I've found out this summer that I love working with kids and want to do this for the rest of my life. God has put it on my heart to have a camp like Trail's End in a foreign country like Kenya or Uganda. So, that's a big interest for me--working with kids--and I hope to keep doing it this fall. Please pray that I get a good job and find the place God wants me to be till I go back to school next Spring.

Update for the Summer #1

Hello friends,

Its been ages since I posted anything. As you read before camp is awesome, the people here are amazing, and I am being challenged and stretched in many good ways. 

  This is my second week counseling. Last week I had eight middle school girls in my cabin. We studied the book of Ruth together and talked about relationships and the way God wants Christians to trust Him for their spouse. Most of the girls had not read Ruth before and found it very interesting. One girl asked me, "So why did you say this was a love story if Boaz only married Ruth for the land?"

I love it when my campers ask questions! (especially if I know the answer...hehe) Well, I explained the last two chapters and how they show that Boaz had been watching Ruth and admired her character and compassion for Naomi. We also talked about how he tricked his relative into deciding not to be the kinsman-redeemer for Ruth, since he really wanted to marry her! The girls really enjoyed the discussion. 

One of my girls that week was having a lot of trouble with understanding the gospel. She was the quiet type and had deep feelings about God and what she'd heard in church and at camp, but didn't know how to put those thoughts and feelings into words. It was very difficult to talk to her about Jesus' love and then let her walk away without accepting Him. I would say that she felt comfortable with me--I didn't push religion on her--but she didn't make any decisions. I am keeping her in prayer. 

This week I have a great cabin of seven high school aged girls. I've been helping counsel one of their sisters, in the cabin next door, who is struggling with a lot of serious issues. She is depressed, has very low self-esteem, etc. Its been a wonderful experience pouring out Christ's love on her and feeling like God is truly using me to reach out. But I am very weak and she has a lot of questions and feelings that don't have a quick answer--I can only help her so much. 

So I'm having to grow in strength and stamina both physically and spiritually. Whenever I get grumpy and feel like a failure and want to quit I remember that I have prayed for God to pour me out, break me, and humble me. He has been doing just that. 

I am having a lot of fun too though. Its not all work and no play. The games here are a blast, I get to paintball some, and the friends I am making are really awesome. I also am learning that liking a guy is not something bad...I guess I always thought before that I had to repress it inside me, try to kill it, and hope that maybe it would go away. But, I think God's been telling me: "Give yourself a break. You're human and thats the way I made you. So enjoy it! Don't do anything stupid, don't put any stock in it, but enjoy it."

   So thats what I've been doing. 

Something else thats been on my mind is how a relationship would work best for me. See, I've kind of figured out how not to do things. I generally learn the hard way, so thats no news to me. But now I've been pondering and praying about what the best way is...for me. I understand that people are individuals and what works for one doesn't always work for another. 

   I'm the kind of person that is so serious about relationships that if I think I like someone and they like me, I immediately start evaluating them as a potential spouse. Now, don't get all scared and run away, guys, because as creepy as that is, I've always known it was a fault and tried to not react that way. I tend to have a lot of internal battles when it comes to boys, if you haven't picked that up yet. 

Well, I was thinking, if there was a way for me to separate in my mind a not-serious relationship and a serious relationship....then I could possibly do better about getting to know someone without getting to deep in a relationship. So I'm actually thinking about dating and then courting if things get that serious. Its an interesting thought to someone like me who has been taught a courtship mindset. But I do believe courtship is still the right way to go. Its just not fool proof and I have proven myself to be a little foolish before. 

Anyways, that my self-relationship counseling for the week. Hopefully I'll get some other's feedback on that as well. For now, I've got the joy of the Lord and the peace that He brings for everything and anything that life will bring.

Trail's End Ranch - Ekalaka, MT

     If there was a ever a place where a kid could come and feel loved, understood, and happy, I think Trail's End Ranch would be that place. Already the staff has spent a whole week sitting in training sessions that go from before 10am in the morning, to around 10pm at night, learning about the situations kids are in, how to understand them, and how to help them.
       We have begun to learn what it is "in everything to give thanks". There's a cute little saying we have when someone is complaining. We say "cucumbers" to the other staff and most often to ourselves--this reminds us of how the Israelites complained in the desert that they only had manna instead of cucumbers, leeks, and all that Egyptian food. It reminds us to be thankful.
       Already we have covered the subjects of suicidal thoughts, hurt from broken or divorced families, feelings of loss when a loved one dies, the need to be listened to, the need to understand Biblical truth--especially for children who haven't come from a Christian background--we've talked about pornography and abortion and other issues that some of the teens coming into camp could be facing and struggling with.
      At Trail's End, "Camp is for the camper" and we are not babysitters. Each staff member that takes this training seriously and offers themselves to God sacrificially will go into the eight weeks of camp prepared to minister to each child in a deep and meaningful way. The gospel will be preached, the kids who are saved will be given opportunities to grow in their maturity and knowledge, and the importance of sharing our faith to the lost will also be emphasized. All in all, I really believe Trail's End is effectively doing the work of God in these kid's lives, and I'm inspired by all that I see and hear.
       This makes me especially excited because there are skills I am learning here that will prove to be useful if I go oversees and want to have ministry with Muslim children. Of course there will be major cultural differences with how things are done, but I have dreamed of having a school, and now I am seeing an American version of my dreams materialized. I truly believe God has brought me to Trail's End for this purpose, among others.
      Emotionally, I have been greatly challenged, just in the first week up here. I came to camp with the private purpose of seeking to grow closer to God aside from the distractions of relationships with boys. Now, I counted on their only being the kind of distractions at camp that I don't go for...like the really hot guys who are flirts and go after the giddy, blonde-headed girls. I never like those types and I'm never paid any attention to by them. So I figured I wouldn't have a problem.
   Maybe that was naive?
Anyways, I am being distracted because this camp has "my version" of Romeo, and I am thrown for a loop. But God is good, and He is teaching me to fight off romantic thoughts with a very effective weapon: Scripture! Now, I KNOW this is a good skill to have in missions--especially where there is heavy spiritual attack and oppression (like the Middle East and Africa). So even in this trail I see the hand of God.
      I am also making some really great friends up here. I have absolutely been convinced that this is the best summer job in the entire world. And I think there's a big chance I'll be coming back in the future!
(unless I change my mind when the kids get here and I see how much work it really is!)

Please pray for me. I have been getting very tired and physically sore. My knees have not had any of their old problems with running and stuff, but they have been pretty sore after some of our rougher games. So you can pray that the Lord would truly be my strength, both spiritually and physically.

Contentment

"Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: I know how to be abased (live humbly), and I know how to abound (live prosperously). Everywhere, and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and suffer need. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." ~Philippianes 4: 11-13

        For the past two weeks something has been growing inside me which makes me grumpy most of the time, makes me want to be alone and sulk, makes prayer a chore, and makes 'doing what's right' seem meaningless and unfulfilling. Self-pity and impatience/shortness with others are the side effects, and of late I have grown extremely anxious to know what is at the root.

  Last night I (grudgingly) went to teens with Gina, knowing that I wouldn't have any friends there and that I wouldn't have any fun (there's the self-pity). But in spite of my coming expecting nothing from God, God decided to give me something anyways. The subject of Josh's teaching and our discussion was from Romans 12: 1-2, about taking our thoughts captive to the obedience of Jesus Christ. I appreciated that Josh didn't only emphasize the obvious thoughts we ought to take captive: lust, pride, anger; but that he also emphasized thoughts of self-pity, condemnation, and shame that the enemy brings to us but which do not line up with the Word of God.

     Leaving the church, I had a lot to think about, and my sleep was full of crazy dreams. But this morning I was able to think some, and realized that this 'spiritual apathy' I had been feeling ashamed of was not really me--I want Jesus and holiness very much!--but it was the emotion of a heart afflicted with discontent. Rather than be convicted of this, I saw that God wanted to encourage me to take my thoughts captive and to remember how much I do love Him! He wants to deal with my discontent, and I am very glad He does, because I'm very sick of it.

     The great thing about taking thoughts captive is that to do so you have to confront the thoughts with the Word of God. Which means you've got to have the Word of God in you! And so this is another motivation for the scripture memorization that I already wanted to work on this summer! God is a great planner and always knows just what we need.

Home

  I have been back at home for some time now.
     The first week flew by very fast filled with lots of games of Battleship with the little guys, lots of playing music for the family, and lots of talks with Gina late into the night. It is hard in many ways to be back. I have not been used to the boy's romps and arguments--so those things make me upset with them and I often say things I don't mean. I have to get used to ignoring their remarks so that we won't get into any "battles of the wit". I always lost my temper, and Jon and Seth seem to know just what to say to stump me.

       Its been interesting to get to know the family again. My parents are the same, but dearer to me because of the stage of life I'm in. It used to be hard to have to get their advice on everything--these days I really think that I can't do without it!
       Gina is very different. I have to get used to the woman she is becoming, and remember that she's not my little sister that I can boss anymore. We are still so close, and I am so glad of that. She has been a great source of comfort and understanding to me of late.
      Jon and Seth have grown up a great deal in the five months I was gone. They are as tall as me now, very manly and strong, and are starting to swagger around and give their opinions to me. Oh dear.
      Judah and Israel are practically the same. They still are mischievous and clever at getting what they want. They still think they're big enough to take the big boys. And most of all, they still love to play with me, show me their tricks, and ask me to pray for them at night. That time beside their beds is very precious to me--I pray my heart out for them and then get lots of kisses. I wish I could say they went right to sleep after that, but I know I didn't when I was a kid, and neither do they!
      We have a dog now too, named Buddy. He's a big fluffy thing that is very gentle, very friendly, and not at all a nuisance like some dogs. Daddy asked me once, "You don't really like dogs either?" (its a well-known fact that I don't like cats). Well, I must say that if there ever was a pair of dogs I liked, they would be Buddy and the collie we used to have named Dylan. Besides those two, I'll stick with birds.
      Nanny and Poppy are here too. Yesterday, Daddy and the big boys had to take part of our wood fence down and pull their RV through to the back yard because the city said we couldn't let them park beside our house, next to the driveway. So now they are camped in the backyard under a tree and have their own little park to sit and admire from their 'porch'. This park has lots of green grass, a 4' inflatable swimming pool, and a vegetable garden!
Poppy is so wise and Nanny so kind. I love having them here. I have found myself going to Poppy for advice lately, and I've asked Nanny to be my accountability and prayer partner for the summer while I'm gone to Montana. She is very excited about that, to be sure.
    I am preparing to go to a christian summer camp called Trail's End Ranch, but I really wish I knew more details about the job so I could prepare. I know that I will be doing music for the chapel services and that they have a keyboard. I've gotten some music together and ordered a hymnal from Amazon, but I am really going with very little at this point. I don't know what kind of music they like, and I have a feeling that I don't know any of the 'camp songs' that are a lot of fun and that kids love so much.
  I trust though, that as long as I go prepared for anything I'll have a lot of fun and be able to help all the children God sends to talk to me while I'm there. Montana itself should be beautiful; and countryside always rests me up--even when I am hard at work in it.
   God has been doing so much in my heart that I can't even write here. It has been very painful--probably the most painful lesson I have had to learn in my life! But He has been good and gracious to me. My heart is tender before  Him, and while I would like to lock everything away and forget about it, He won't let me. I must go through each little trial He sends, learn the lesson it gives, and make certain that I am wholly His and trusting Him alone for each new day. Please keep me in your prayers this summer.

Devon Avenue

This afternoon I visited Devon avenue--the "little India" of Chicago, where Pakistani Muslims and Indian Hindus live and work side by side. There are a myriad of tiny clothing, jewelry, live poultry, and literature/media shops as well as little cafe's and mini restaurants boasting all kinds of foods and sweets.
        I was there with my Contemporary Islam class; we were taking a field trip to Devon Ave with our Pakistani professor, Dr. Samuel Naaman. We went to the South Asian Friendship Center first to drink some chai--oh, how I loved smelling that strong tea-and-milk aroma! I haven't had chai made quite like the Kenyan chai I experienced five years ago on a missions trip. I was delighted to say the least. Then we sat in the small room where the Center has their Sunday services and listened to David Echols, former missionary in Pakistan and India, tell stories about his own ministry experiences.
        He told us about how there were many Muslims coming to faith in Jesus Christ in India--partly because they are able to relate to the Christians easier than the Hindi's who look down on them and persecute them. He also told us about how he was being persecuted in Pakistan when he and his family began to have so much success at converting Muslims that the activist Muslims became angry, invaded his home in the middle of the night, and tried to rob and kill him. Both times that these men came, the Lord protected the Echol family in a mighty way. Such stories only add fire to the passion that has begun to burn in me for the Muslim world.
        I simply can't wait to begin full-time ministry! Yet at the same time, I know from my reading and studying with Dr. Naaman that I am far from prepared for the challenges of ministry. I don't have the maturity of years and the necessary connections with other like-minded missionaries. I need to form a team, I need to gather support, I need to make myself ready to become a "Muslim to the Muslims" and most of all, I need to begin witnessing to Muslims in Chicago.
     When I read amazing books like Bridges to Islam by Phil Parshall, The Unseen face of Islam by Bill Musk, and Building Churches in Muslim Cities by Greg Livingstone, I see the great need and feel an overwhelming call to Muslim missions. I am getting hundreds of ideas all at one for what I want to do specifically. Yet nothing has been tested by the council of others who have actually done this kind of ministry. I am really excited to see that God has so quickly grown this passion in me, and I know He will send me to the right mentors and programs. He will open doors and close doors.
     So, the purpose of this rant, is to say: "I want to be a missionary!"
And to express some of my wondering where to begin. I wish that Moody--or any other school for that matter--had a program to specifically train students for Muslim missions. I could use anthropology, culture studies, hermeneutics, church planting, language, phonetics, English teaching, more on classes on Muslim beliefs, music, and ways of thought. There is so much that a Bible or Missions major at Moody doesn't even begin to address! I could take a hodgepodge of stuff at Moody--but that wouldn't give me a degree. Hmm. A lot to think about. I don't think a degree is the point--the skills and knowledge is the point. But there are a lot of obstacles to that and if that's where God wants me to go, as I said, He'll have to open the right doors and close the wrong ones.
This is a great God that we serve!

When God lets you drop...

There once was a man who went on a walk in the Grand Canyon. He took a small winding trail off the main venue to get away from the crowds of sight seers and trail guides. Panting for breath after a steep climb he squatted down in the shade of a sajauro cactus. Then he got up to continue his hike, but didn't notice the loose gravel covering the place where he stood. He suddenly found himself sliding on the loose earth toward a precipice. Faster and faster he went, desperately trying to dig his feet into the ground and stop his decline. At the very last moment he reached out and caught hold of a small, wiry bush that had dug its roots in the side of the cliff. His feet continued to slide and soon were kicking and swinging in the air above the drop off. His heart beat so fast he could hardly take a deep enough breath to get out his cry for help. As he clutched the trunk of the bush he cried again and again, "Help! Is anybody there? Somebody help me!"

   Now this man was a Christian. He was very close to God and often heard God's voice. But he had never heard it clearer than in that moment:

  "I'll help you." God said out of the blue sky, "Let go of the bush."

Now, when I first heard this story it was a joke--and the punch line was when the man replied, "Is there anybody else up there?" But instead of laughing, I responded by wondering what I would have done in the same circumstance. So, go with me to that precipice, place yourself in that man's predicament. Feel the strength leaving your hands, hear the cracking of the bush as it begins to give way under your weight. Feel the quiet of the desert, the canyon, the sky--you're alone and no one is coming to help you.

Then think of letting go.

No! 

Your flesh screams it. How could you let go? Isn't that suicide? But also--God could possibly know something you don't. Who do you trust? Your gut--or God?

This reminds me of another story.

There once was a little girl who loved a lion. He had saved her, her friends, and her family from the power of an evil ruler. But since then he had gone missing and they were once again in terrible trouble. They needed his help. Walking through the woods, this little girl and her friends came upon a huge gorge through which a river ran. And it was from the edge of that precipice that Lucy saw The Lion.

You know the story of Aslan and the four Pevensie children from C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia. 

The Pevensies did not trust Lucy that first time and follow her on a path that seemed to them to lead right over the edge of the cliff to a stony death below. But later they learned of their error, returned to the gorge, and in stepping out, found a hidden path they had not seen before. Aslan had known something they did not. 

The same is true for us. 

We walk along in life, confident that our stride will bridge any streams or crevices we meet. Even if we do slip up some we are pretty sure that if we dig our feet in and catch hold of something, we'll come out alright in the end. We are self-reliant, confident, mature.

The Bible says that God resists the proud, and think of all the ways in which God brings life, joy and peace into our lives. If we were missing these blessings, what a miserable life we would have! Yet God will not bless us with his presence or his favor if we lift ourselves above Him in pride. In His mercy He would rather humble us through painful circumstances than to see us outside of His blessing.

And so we find ourself on the cliff edge hanging by our fingertips, and finding no one but God to help. 

"Let go." He says. "Trust me."

Oh, how it burns, our feeling of resistance...the pride welling up inside. Yet, once we release our grip, we find ourself falling, falling and then--BAM--a tough landing on the Solid Rock, our refuge and foundation, which we had not known would be there to catch us. Its at this point that we cry tears of repentance and releif and begin, instead of hating the word trust, to sing hymns like this one:

"Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,

Just to take Him at His word.

Just to rest upon His promise,

And to know "Thus, saith the Lord."

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!

How I've proved Him o're and o're.

Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus.

Oh, for faith to trust Him more!"

Thus saith the Lord: "Let go."

Disclaimer

Some of my friends informed me that Google was putting ads up for Buddhist literature and
other such things--so I thought I should post a disclaimer:
 The ads on this account are not modified by the author and do not necessarily reflect
her views and convictions. Please disregard any discrepancy of content and notify the
author if something is particularly offensive--the author will consider terminating
the Google ads account on such grounds. 


Thanks everyone!
~Lindsey

Oh How He Loves

I have known God as Maker, Guide, Teacher, and Father. But I have never known Jesus as lover...my Beloved. I always thought it kind of strange for people to think of Him that way.

  

   Lately I find myself glancing up into a chandelier or something and suddenly knowing the warmth of His gaze. Like a girl who glances to see who walked in the door and catches her Significant Other smiling at her from a distance. It makes your heart stop.

  When I feel down about something the Holy Spirit whispers some comforting thing to my heart and I smile a secret smile--knowing something no one else can see from the external--I am in love. 

  Sometimes I share jokes with Jesus. I laugh about something and I know He think its funny that I am humored by something so small. After all, He has a Great sense of humor quite unlike our finite human humor. 

  When I am trying to sacrifice something to Him and feel self-pity I sometimes think He winks at me as if to say, "In the big picture this is so small. You can do it!" Then I smile with Him at my own silliness and the sacrifice becomes so much easier. 

  He loves doing little things to take care of me.  

I had been struggling through some stuff the first week of the tour and had been keeping a record of my thoughts and feelings in a little blue notebook. When I had had enough I finally decided to surrender my struggle to Jesus and woke up the next morning feeling so free and happy and at peace. Well, I wrote down these things in my little book too and finished with the words: "Jesus has covered it with Grace and has given me liberty. I am so happy!"

  Then I set the little book down on the dock I was sitting on. As I did so a huge gust of wind picked up the book and threw it into the water! As I watched it float away I knew that Jesus was saying, "Its finished. You learned the lesson and won't forget it. Let it go."

  It was the most beautiful object lesson He has taught me.

Also this morning we had a really early call time but my room mates and I decided we wanted to get up at 6am and talk a walk to see the sunrise on the bay. My alarm rang at 6 this morning and Jesus told me not to get up yet, so I didn't. I found out when I got up 45 minutes later that it was raining outside and the we couldn't have gone anyways. If I had gotten up I wouldn't have been able to go back to sleep. Jesus knew just what I needed!

There is nothing I can say to express how much I treasure my Savior's love. But, Oh! How He loves His children!

  

Patient Contentment

Dear friends, there is nothing harder than wanting something good and yet having to wait for the right time, right person, right circumstance. Marriage is a beautiful thing that God created for His children and its something He wants to give us in the right time, with the right person, etc. However, as believers, most often our first and most primary task is to wait. Ultimately we wait for Christ's second coming, "Come quickly!" and "Even so, Lord Jesus, come!" are the cries of the apostles.
   I am still just a freshman, and I have always thought it would be wiser to hold off on any serious relationships until I'm close to finishing college. But most of my close companions at school are upperclassmen and have their own love interests. I watch them grow close to each other, I support them with prayer daily, I am constantly reminded of my singleness by their unity. Not that singleness is undesirable. Rather, I haven't yet learned to treasure it. I pray that I may. But the natural desire for a husband remains.
  The council of my friends and parents is golden.
One brother encouraged me with words I will not soon forget: "We must be patient. But we must be content to be patient."
  Also one of the directors told us (in a morning devotional), "The Bible says, "Thy word is a lamp to my feet" not a light beam to the end of life."
  My favorite hymn remains to be, "Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
                                                        Just to take Him at His word,
                                                       Just to rest upon His promise
                                                      And to know, "Thus saith the Lord."


                                                        

O Speak To Me

There is a song that the men of Moody Chorale sing in our concerts called O Speak To Me which was a Chopin piece that Dick Anthony put words to. In the words of our director, Gerald Edmonds, "You're not going to get any better with words, and you're not going to get any better with music..." This is good stuff!
Here are the words:
  O speak to me from heav'n above, 
  Fill Thou my soul,
  That I may know Thy love,
  Thy wondrous love,
  Hush my heart to hear Thy faintest whisper.
  Speak dear Lord, speak dear Lord.


  O may my will  be lost in Thine
  My yielded heart to Thee I now resign
  Speak Lord I pray
  Let the flood-tide of Thy glory
  Like a mighty sea sweep o're me
  While I worship and adore Thy name,
  Precious Holy name
  Thru eternal years the same.


  O speak to me from calvary
  Where Thou, O Christ, 
  Didst shed Thy blood for me, in agony
  Speak of Thy undying mercy to me
  There out poured, precious Lord
  O melt my heart, 
  With Calv'ry love
  Burn out the dross with fire from above
  
  Speak Lord I pray,
  Speak from Calv'ry I implore Thee
  Keep that vision e'er before me
  While I worship and adore Thy name!
  Thy matchless name,
  Precious Holy name
  Thru eternal years the same.

Foundations

I wake up around seven, get a shower, eat breakfast, and lug my suitcase into the church.  Then we warm up with some calisthenics and do our vocal rehearsal. After this its time to load the bus and head out to another church where we unload, set up, get dressed, eat dinner and then have our performance. After a concert we pair up with our host homes and try to get some sleep before it starts all over again.
   There are moments of peace and quiet--like the other morning when the weather was beautiful and Olivia gave us twenty minutes to go outside and spend with God and the warm sunshine. I was so overwhelmed by the piercing light and God's radiant glory that...I fell asleep.
   In the rush and bustle and the adventure of it all I feel like my soul is out of place and that I'm not as focused on Christ as I should be. The concerts are physically and spiritually draining and I know I need to find my strength in the Lord. This is tough and I realize I've been relying on the devout people around me at school to help me be grounded in my Foundation. This tour has been pulling all that out in the open and I know that God is using this to help me hide myself in Him. I am fully convinced that until I am able to be strong and confident in my faith both alone and with other believers I will not be a mature person.
  That is an uncomfortable concession for some people to make. But I simply have taken Paul's words literally, "when I was a child I did childish things, but when I became a (woman) I put away childish things."

Moody Chorale tours the S.E.

Moody Chorale consists of about fifty students--both music majors and Bible majors--who enjoy spreading the gospel and illustrating the beauty of Scripture through song. I am privileged to be a member and join them in touring the south east states--Arkansas, Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, and Kentucky.
   Last night we arrived in Forrest City, Arkansas where we met up with the folks at the First Baptist church, had dinner, and then separated into small groups and went home with some of the church members who were so kind in hosting us. Lynnette Emme (pronounced em-mee) and I stayed with a wonderful lady named Mrs. Walker. We sat and talked for awhile in her comfy living room decorated with an old fashioned couch and matching blue lazy boys situated opposite the TV--just like at my Great Grandma's house growing up. Her husband had been in the navy and she had a lot of stories to tell about the days when she didn't have anywhere to stay because he'd been re-stationed and she found a room in the YWCA. Mrs. Walker seemed to be lonely and it was lovely getting to spend time with her talking about our school in the city and her adventurous young life back when--she had many fond memories to tell us. Before I went to bed she came in and took the heavy crocheted covering off the bed--which was just decoration--and mentioned that her Grandma had made the delicate masterpiece by hand!
     This morning we had our first concert. The church sanctuary was large and had stained glass windows set in the walls. I love old churches like that and can almost always guess what they'll look like on the inside because the era they were built in resembled a certain pattern of architecture that is pretty continuous.
  I think the concert went well, though I didn't feel at my best on some of the songs. I always wonder why Mr. Ed let me into the Chorale because I really am not at the level of the other first sopranos--I suppose he realized that I would learn and absorb some of the other girl's skills. I hope so!
   It was wonderful to be able to sing from my heart about the goodness of God to people who are my sisters and brothers--yet people that I have never met before and probably will not meet again on this side of heaven. I heard some amazing testimonies of God's faithfulness and redemption from them, and I sensed that our music was received as praise to God and not performance for them. I am so glad.
That, after all, is the whole point of this tour...if we were traveling about simply to showcase our skills and good effort, what a waste of time that would be! How worthless!
 Only when God gets the glory are the songs that we sing of any value in light of eternity.
To Him be all praise, honor, and majesty!
Amen.

Is God Concerned about my Homework???

After a long day spent tying up all my loose ends before heading out on Spring tour with the Moody Chorale this weekend, I am reminded of how faithful God really is. 

    Homework is something I don't usually fret about--and while that appear to be procrastination--I'm convinced that God has been in charge of my chaotic work load all this semester. No wonder I'm not overwhelmed and yet this is midterm week! Speaking of midterms, I had one this last monday, though I didn't remember this at the time. I went in to class as usual, half-asleep, having spent the previous night catching up with my family in Texas via Skype. (wonderful invention, by the way) 

   Suddenly the tense atmosphere in the classroom got to me as the students waited for our professor to arrive. I saw a few of my classmates scanning their notes and wondered, "Did I miss something?"

I had indeed forgotten that Music Theory II was having a midterm that day. "Oh, well," I thought "I'll do my best." But I also said a quick prayer and hoped God had known what He was doing when He forgot to remind me about my test. Funny thing is, I got an A on the exam.

   Another one of those fortunate little breakthroughs happened just this evening. All last week I spent several hours in Doane's computer lab composing a nice little song for a music class assignment. I wrote a poem and decided on a melody and chord structure, and I made sure I had the required sixteen measures. Tuesday I went into class with my assignment--due anytime this week--all printed out with my name on it. Dr. Rownd happened to mention that our "Love song to Jesus" needed to have two dominant sevenths in it. I realized I'd forgotten that stipulation and was a dominant seventh short! 

    So I kept it on the front of my mind like a sticky note stuck to my desk--"rework the keyboarding assignment."

   Finally, Thursday night--very last minute--I ran into the computer lab and prayed for a miracle. It takes me forever to get anything done on the Finale software and being a perfectionist AND an idealist I tend to make things as hard as possible on my composing. I had an hour till curfew and--all the praise to God--I got the assignment done. Oh, did I mention I started from scratch and composed an entirely new piece, lyrics and everything? Yeah, God is awesome.

    Well, tomorrow I'm supposed to have gotten into a small group for my Contemporary Islam class and decided what topic to write a research paper on. I guess I should be worried about the fact that the one person I talked to about partnering with is auditing the class and couldn't help me. Maybe I should be concerned about the fact that I haven't a clue what my topic should be for this paper. I don't know...perhaps this is just a little bit too big for God to handle in less than 24 hours. 

What do you think?

Failing Predictions

Failing Predictions

In honor of Dr. Edwin Timothy Childs

Ha! Dear doctor

I know you said

I fell into paraplegics,

I should be dead.

Indeed at least

I'll never leave my bed.

But did you know I walked today?

I walked from the bedroom

To hear those political Donkeys bray

on Television.

Ha! Good doctor

Did you hear the latest news?

I was able to bend down and put on my shoes.

In fact though you warned me

I'd never walk

I'm starting to think maybe

That was just talk

I walked in to see you!

Ha! Friend, doctor

Do you remember me?

I'm the dude who fell out of a tree!

Is this strapping young person

Who I'm supposed to be?

Well, maybe not strapping

But you know what I mean.

Supposed to be dead!

Knocked over the head!

There's nothing on earth I've heard funnier said.

Ha! Brother, doctor

Did I mention that these

My hands, fingers, and toes

Now function as ordinary as prose?

Did I say that I played

My beloved organ again the other day?

Did I fail to mention

Your most fatal prediction

Was little more than fiction

As good as that guy Dickens

Compared to what I play!

Ha! Forgive me, doctor

If I again indulge

In laudative repose

on your couch.

I just can't get over the fact

That this old man who'd gone "splat"

Is now using his fingers and toes!

My speech must coherently grow

In praise of that God who made you

A doctor among doctors

Only able to

Make unfailingly failing predictions!

The month was April and the flowers were about to bloom. Dr. Edwin T. Childs, professor of music at Moody, was trimming trees in his backyard. The ladder he was standing on slid away from the tree, and falling with it, Dr. Childs slammed his head against the wood deck below. The nerves on the right side of his brain suffered severe damage. Two months later Dr. Childs woke up in a hospital bed a paraplegic.

Since then years have passed, during which miracle after miracle has occurred, strengthening faith and bringing God glory. Dr. Childs has seen the best cranial specialists and movement therapists. He has gone from being a "lifeless blob," as he put it, to teaching and playing music, both of which were deemed nearly impossible for him. He wasn't supposed to ever leave his bed. The triumph of his testimony through this trail is uplifting.

Yet there is one thing that he, and those who know him best, must struggle with. While he has regained the ability to walk, teach, play the organ, and use his left arm and hand, Dr. Childs is not completely healed. In fact he only lacks movement in his left pinky finger. The question implied is unavoidable. God's goodness seems to be placed on the line.

In Dr. Child's words, "He [God] could have decided, "Well, you're putting your trust in acupuncture, I'll do something about it too." Wham! Completely healed. But it didn't happen. Instead He says, "I'm going to give you a test, Ed. Just because you can't get your little finger back, blame Me. It's all My fault that you can't do that. I gave you [movement in] three...you couldn't do any of them. And it's My fault you can't do that fourth one. You had a very fine acupuncturist and his goal was for you to get all four of them down. So, who are you going to blame? You have the finest neurological people working on your brain. You can't blame them, because I gave them the brains to be the very best. But you can blame Me, Ed. Go ahead.""

Blame God? That sounds familiar. Maybe we've read about that somewhere before. Dr. Childs, like Job, is far from blaming God. This is the real triumph of his testimony. More than the fact that he can move his leg and arm and three fingers, the fact that he can't move the fourth finger and yet still knows God is good is a powerful faith statement. It took him years of lying on his back in a hospital bed, being pushed around in a wheel chair, and sitting at the keyboard of an silent organ unable to play, to understand this. His answer to the eternal question of "why?" is: "God is good." His hope for the future is: "God is good." And his encouragement to other believers who struggle with this concept of God's goodness is: "Heaven? No brains required. Instead, new bodies will be given to us. God is good!"