hope

I get my hopes up, too fast.

Let's back track a little bit. I love change. Yes, change is difficult. Having moved so many times growing up, I always missed what I had left behind, but I got this insatiable desire for adventure in return. Like Pa Ingalls, "My wandering foot gets to itching," and I'm ready to pack up and move on.

This thirst for adventure gets twisted up in my sense of purpose. Then I feel lost.

"Where I am going?"

"What is the point?"

"Is this it?"

I think about all the things I hope for, the people I want to minister to, the places I'd like to go, the books I want to write, all the things I want to accomplish...I take a look around me and I wonder if those things I hope for so desperately will ever happen. Because I just can't see it right now.

I worry that my dreams are not valid, not important to God. I worry that they don't really line up with His purposes.

I worry that if I do get to fulfill those dreams, I'll get to the other side and say, "That's it? All these years for this?"

I've already seen in my 24 years a pattern with the purposes of God. He may not give you exactly what you want, in the timing you want, or the way you want it. But it is always perfect, and better than what you wanted in the first place. So why worry right?

Easy to put on paper (or screen, I should say), much more difficult to put into emotional practice.

When the future husband, child, job, college, ministry... whatever it is you are hoping for consumes your thoughts constantly, it's not that easy to say "Lord Your will be done." We want to say, "Lord my will be done, please give it Your blessing."

Today, it dawned on me that I have been hoping for good things the wrong way. I hope to have children someday, hope to have a ministry to immigrants and the disabled, hope to live in a different context, hope to be a published author, etc. Are these things wrong and sinful? Not really. But the way I hope for them is.

I have been placing my hope in these things, rather than just hoping they would happen. How do I differentiate between the two? Like this:

When I place my hope in these things, every setback to their fulfillment leaves me hopeless. I feel empty, purposeless, and depressed. I question, "Why am I here right now?" and give myself an early morning pity party before work. I can't see God moving in my circumstances because I have placed all my hope in different circumstances.

I haven't placed my hope in God.

"For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience." Romans 8:24-25

My hope doesn't rest in the unseen. I'm "hoping" in the things of this world, thinking that a change will make me feel happier and more fulfilled. That I will be more in line with God's purposes if I'm doing the things that I am passion about. These things are good, but I cannot place my hope in them... I cannot trust in them.

Even if I was in a dark prison with no food, waiting for my execution I could place my hope in God, in the unseen. I could know that His purposes, though inscrutable at times, were good and I would be with Him for eternity.

Though my circumstances stay the same, though my dreams continue to be dreams, and though all desires may not be fulfilled, I can place my hope in the God who created me and know that He is sovereign in this place. The place that I am today, whether that is the same tomorrow or fades away.

I pray that God would change my heart, that it would always long for the things He longs for. That I would dream about Him and desire His ways.

Instead of looking for the next big change, maybe God Himself is my adventure?

My hope is in You, Your will be done.

has death won?

Yesterday I got a phone call from my mom two minutes into my morning commute. A couple had been shot close to our home in a car the same color as ours, and she called to make sure we were alive. We are, and I assured her Tim and I were safe and sound.

As I made a left onto the entrance ramp, listening to "Concerning a UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois," I saw a pigeon laying on its belly on the side of the road, slowly turning itself around. The last time I saw a bird like that was a robin I rescued when I was nine. I named him Robbie, and he died the next morning. I started to tear up, and forced them back so I could keep my eyes on the road.

Last night, we heard about the bombing and shootings in Oslo. My heart goes out to the people of Norway, to the country of our great-great-grandparents. May God comfort your souls and give you peace.

It is hard to think about death. A serious reflection on it usually brings tears and distress. What if I lose someone I love? What if I die violently? What if I never get to say goodbye?

Death is distressing because we were not created for it. We were made to live forever. But we sinned, and now death is the doorway to eternity, whether that leads us to separation from God or unity with Him forever.

Death cuts us off from everything we have ever known, from the people and community we love, the places we cherish, the joys we cannot seem to live without. But it also reunites us to the ones who have gone on before, to the One we walked with in the garden at the beginning of time.

I would be lying to say death doesn't scare me silly at times. I'm not very bereaved, and it is difficult to know that I will lose people I love. In some ways I think that is ok. Knowing that death will come sooner or later, I want to live life to the fullest now. More importantly, I want to share with everyone around me the secret to eternal peace, love, joy, and life. Jesus Christ.

That being said, I don't want to fear death. Death comes to all and I know Jesus, the Savior. He conquered death by rising again. And He will not allow me to slumber in the ground forever. I will be reunited with Him for eternity. The One who loved me and you so much He died a violent death to save us. I don't need to be afraid of death.

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." 2 Timothy 1:7

Jesus will also make all things right one day. He will wipe away our tears, and there will be no more death- no more bombings, no more shootings, no more cancer, no more starvation, no more suffering. There will be justice, there will be peace.

His heart breaks to see us on earth, suffering under our sin and the sins of others. Suffering for things that we don't deserve, for things that occur because the world is broken not because we are being punished.

A boy in Brooklyn was murdered recently walking home from summer camp. It wracked me up inside as I thought about his little body in pain as he died, to think about his parents. His parents will never be the same. Everyday they are going mourn, everyday they will wonder why they didn't do something differently. I couldn't stop thinking about him, and worrying about the little people I love. And I want justice, I want justice for that little boy and his family. I want justice for the people of Norway.

I don't know where you are today. Maybe someone you love has just passed away, maybe someone you love is battling cancer, maybe someone you love was just diagnosed with autism, maybe someone you love is far from God.

Maybe you don't know how to reconcile yourself to God when you are surrounded by suffering.

Jesus understands. He walked on this earth. He loved those who were suffering, and suffered Himself. And He has conquered death because of His deep, unquenchable love for you. Give Him the burdens you are too weak to carry anymore. Give Him your fears about death. Give Him your suffering.

These are things I am working through. I need to give Him my fear, my worries, my terror, my suffering.

He can carry us. Death will never win, Jesus has already defeated it through the cross.

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away." Revelation 21:4

jewel and dostoevsky

Last night Tim and I took a trip to Jewel for a few things. We quickly found our orange juice, couldn't find goat milk ( I think we are in the middle of a goat lock-out), and settled for almond milk.

We waited in line at the express self check-out, and walked out the automatic door. In the cart corral we were cut off by a little old lady with a do rag handkerchief on her head, a skirt, and white socks with dark shoes. She looked up at us in surprise, and Tim said "Hi!" She looked frazzled and hurried out with her cart and shopping bag.

As we walked to our car she booked across the parking lot at a suprisingly high speed, which prompted Tim to say, "She's making a break for it!"

We watched this old lady on the run with her cart, wondering if she would be caught, eyes darting from side to side, nervously checking the automatic lock wheel to see if it would stop her run from the law. We passed her on our way out of the parking lot, still trucking her away across it like an wild animal was chasing her.

I kind of wish in hindsight that I had gotten out of the car and asked her if she needed help, or a ride to get home. But I didn't. And I wonder how she and the cart are getting along today.

The old lady reminded me a bit of Raskolnikov from Crime and Punishment. He plotted out his crime so well, he would never be caught. But the guilt of it weighed him down and drove him insane. I read that book my first year at Trinity for Modern European Literature with Dr. Baxter. After class, before soccer practice I would read a couple chapters on my bunk bed, and then fall asleep. I don't think it was eye fatigue or laziness (that happened with other books), that book was laced with so much suffering and guilt it made you feel hopeless, like you were Raskolnikov's accomplice in the pawnbroker's murder. I fell asleep from the mental burden of it all. I like to re-read books, but I don't know that I will re-read that one again any time soon.

Over 4th of July Tim and I saw "Tree of Life" at the movie theater. I don't really want to give away anything about it in case you haven't seen it, but I will say that I loved Malick's portrayal of guilt. In the movie the boy does something he is ashamed of, and as he walks home his mother is standing outside waiting for him. She says nothing, only looks at him. He looks at her and walks to the house. He says he wants to be like his brothers again, to feel innocent. That whole part gave me chills. I know that feeling. I know what it is like to be guilty, and to feel like everyone knows it. To feel alone, and exposed. To feel afraid. To long for innocence.

My favorite song in high school was Switchfoot's "Innocence Again." I wanted to be pure. I wanted to be free from my guilt riddled mind. I was always good at confession and beating myself up over sin, but not so good at accepting grace.

I think there is some grace in guilt itself. If we never felt guilty for stealing grocery carts, harming others, impure thoughts, or disobeying our parents, we would never feel the need for a Savior. We would feel as though we had it together. Feel like we could make it on our own. As people we would hurt each other more than we do now. Guilt keeps us from committing sins that we won't get caught for, because the burden is still there. The punishment is a tormented soul.

But we can't stop there. We aren't meant to live in guilt and self-hatred. God will forgive us and extend His grace to us. He is merciful, and He wants us to be re-born in Him. We cannot earn that forgiveness through self-inflicted brow beating. It's free because of Jesus, because He loves us.

Jesus loves you. And He doesn't want you to carry around your guilt anymore. Drop it at His feet, confess and walk in His love. He wants you to be free from sin, and live in Him.

"And I said: "Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!" Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth and said: "Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for." Isaiah 6:5-7

bicycles, climbing trees, and cassette tapes

I think about being a kid sometimes. Some things make me think about being a kid. An old home, an old album, and a bike.

Tim and I started riding bikes, again. I say again because in the past we were both avid bike riders, for me that was about 14 years ago. My friends, brother, and I would ride back and forth on a frontage road by our old farmhouse. I don't remember why we didn't get bored riding that same path to and fro, but I know we loved to ride. I recently recalled a memory I blocked out from embarrassment. I had learned to ride with no hands, and decided to ride with my eyes shut as well. Within seconds I was in the ditch with fresh scrapes and bruises. Nobody knew why, I would never tell.

We've been riding our bikes on the lakefront path. It makes me feel like a kid again, the cool breeze whipping round my face, teasing out my flyaways as we pass walkers and runners- and get passed by more serious bikers with spandex shorts. Your heart feels full from the intoxicating blend of wind, sun, and movement. Once again, I love to ride my bike.

A couple weekends ago we visited the old farmhouse where my grandparents still live. I hadn't been there in the summertime in years. We climbed the old tree, and I marveled at our ability as kids to scale it. Sure, it has gotten a little taller, but so have I. My first time in that tree I was afraid and called out to my mom for help. She instructed me to jump and assured me I would be just fine. The landing sent shockwaves up my legs, but they wore off quickly enough. Soon we were climbing that tree everyday, hatching plans and forming clubs. Tim and I sat in that tree together, and I wondered at the passage of time.

That house always makes me happy, and it's bittersweet. I love to be there. Every sidewalk crack, bush, and room has a thousand stories from childhood. I love to remember, and I grieve. I grieve the days when I was small, when I was child in my family, when the days were long and full of tiny adventures. And I'm happy, happy to remember those days and grateful that they ever were. Grateful to be with my family, my grandparents, and share those memories with my husband.

The other day I was shuffling my iPod and a song from Jars of Clay's first album played, Worlds Apart. I was immediately transported back into the family van, driving around the college town we lived outside of listening to that cassette tape. The songs from that album made me feel things, feelings that were not always informed by the lyrics (which I did not understand), but I felt just the same. Feelings of joy and sadness. Longing. I felt those again as I stood in our apartment, washing our blue dishes, making dinner.

All of these things make me sad and make me happy at the same time. The feeling is complex and common to man. I think we all long for the past and relish its remembrance, but we also love now. There are lessons I had to learn back then and in the years to follow that I do not want to be reminded of. There was sadness, there were humiliations that stung, separations that ached. But in these memories I am reminded that God is so good and so gracious. Life is full of many joys, some profound and some small, like bicycles, climbing trees, and cassette tapes.

I am thankful for my family, for my husband. I am thankful for the ways God has provided for all of us. I am thankful for the lightning bugs and summer nights. I am thankful that God has been with me every step of this life, through every joy and sorrow, and I will spend eternity with Him. I think I'm ready to go ride my bike and make some new memories. Thank You God for bicycles, climbing trees, and cassette tapes.

prayer and praise

As I prayed this morning I thanked God for who He is and His attributes. I try to keep this part of my prayers fresh because it often sounds more like rote memorization recited daily on the pages of my journal. Thank You for Your love, Thank You for Your mercy, etc. Even though I am not always as focused as I wish to be, I think that is one of the most important parts of prayer each day, the time spent reflecting upon the glory of God.

In the past I wondered, does God need to be reminded about who He is? I think it is a healthy part of a relationship, and we do the same thing in our earthly relationships. I tell Tim the things I love about him and thank him for the wonderful things he does for me and for the wonderful person he is. I should do the same thing for God. Instead, often I'm just tossing up a prayer to God asking, "Lord please help me with my day." I'm sure Tim wouldn't appreciate it if my daily communication with him was "Tim, please help me wash the dishes and fill the tank with gas." That is discouraging and not loving communication. When our words are filled with adoration it is uplifting for the person being praised, but also for the one doing the praising.

David constantly praised God in the Psalms, remembered His mercies to His people, and recalled His attributes.

"Satisfy us in the morning with Your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days." Psalm 90:14

I think it is important to praise God not only because He deserves to be praised at all times, but because it reminds me of the truth about God. It helps me remember who He is, that He is love and beauty, strength and glory, grace and mercy, forgiving and faithful, holy and pure. God knows that He is all these things, but I forget. I forget that God is amazing and come to Him with a exhaustive list of needs and worries, hoping that He will answer me when I call. I need to praise Him daily to remind myself of His glory.

Prayer is a mysterious privilege. We are allowed to approach the God of the universe at all times. We do not need to go to temple or have our prayers mediated through an earthly priest. God's Son is our High Priest, Jesus. Because of Him we can talk to the Father, any time, any place.

Prayer is something that we should do without ceasing and too often cease doing. I think if I really understood prayer I would pray so much more than I do.

"To be a Christian without prayer is no more possible than to be alive without breathing." Martin Luther King Jr.

May the Lord strengthen us to pray when we are weak and when we are strong, when we are sad and when we are joyful. May the first words on our lips be praise at all times and in every situation.

"Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." Job 1:21

welcome home

Recently Tim and I heard the song "Welcome Home" by a band called Radical Face. It was on this crazy video about a guy who broke the world record for speed scaling a mountain- with no ropes. Guts yes, insane... definitely. My sister gave us the song, and I have been wearing it out on the iPod (I think Tim might be a little bit sick of it by now).

When I listened to it the first time I told Tim, "If my life ever has a soundtrack I would like that song to be on it." It is the kind of song that gives me chills, a song that immediately adds meaning and depth to any images that are coupled with it.

If you hear it and don't agree with me, don't worry about it, I have other songs cued up for my soundtrack as well. I'm sure you have songs that give you that feeling too, that feeling that makes your heart swell so big you think it will burst out of your chest.

I have been thinking about this lately and wondering what it means about being a human. Music, movies, books, and art move us emotionally. When they affect us most enjoyably, it is usually because they have made us feel like there is something bigger than the here and now. Like there is something beyond us, something we can be a part of.

I think C.S. Lewis said it well, "It was when I was happiest that I longed most... the sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing... to the find the place where all the beauty came from."

It seems a little crazy that the longing would be beautiful, but it is. Think about the longing of a child for his Christmas presents, the longing of a pregnant mother waiting for her baby, the longing of the betrothed for his love. There is something satisfying in those things even in the absence of what is desired, because those things are wonderful even though they are not fully realized yet.

I think great art taps into that, it reminds of something within us, something that is not fully realized in us or in the world yet. But one day, it will be.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, He has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from beginning to the end." Ecclesiastes 3:11

Our hearts swell with longing, because we were not made for death. We were made for eternity, and beauty reminds us of that. It reminds us that there is something greater, something more beautiful than we know... and our hearts yearn to be one with it. One with God.

Someday, we will be joined with God through Christ at the wedding feast. I have a feeling our hearts will be full, more full than they could ever be in this lifetime when our story of forever with Christ begins. Imagine it. You can't really, it is too beautiful. Long for it. Long for the beauty of Christ, you will be one with Him soon.

"Welcome home my love."

despair not

A week ago we had a worship night at church. It was great to spend an extended amount of time worshipping. So often my thoughts get lost in the shuffle on Sunday mornings, and it was so good to spend an hour praising God through song.

One song's lyrics really struck me in particular that night, "Before the Throne of God Above."

"When Satan tempts me to despair,

And tells me of the guilt within,

Upward I look and see Him there,

Who made an end to all my sin."

Unfortunately for me, I am tempted to despair all too often. It might be the number one way to bring me down. Whether it is depressed thoughts on the way to work in the morning, freak out mode before a large group event, or just a bad case of the doldrums I tend to despair.

I don't know how many of you fall into depression, but if you do, you know that the easiest place to look is never up. Your eyes are trained inward or downward. One sad thought leads to another and you are lying on your bed crying your eyes out before you know it.

My mind is often filled with depression, "I look fat today. I can't work one more day at this job. She must be upset with me. I don't have it in me. I feel sick, I'm just not getting better. I just.... can't."

So that was last week for me. And that song struck me on Friday, struck me in between the eyes.

And then I read from "Keep a Quiet Heart." Elliot wrote about how prayer is a battle, one that Satan desperately doesn't want me to engage in. If I work fine, but pray? That is the last thing he wants.

Where would the evil one like to keep me? In a state of prayerless despair.

This week was different. While work didn't change, I changed and I enjoyed it. I felt rested even when I didn't sleep as much. I spent time with Jesus, and things were clearer. I looked up and there He was, my Love.

It wasn't perfect, but it was joyful.

I guess it takes me more than a few times to learn the same the lesson. Thankfully, He still loves, He is faithful, He is merciful.

"Be persuaded, timid soul, that He has loved you too much to cease loving you." -Archbishop Fenelon