Month: May 2011

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Culmination

All of my life has been waiting for this culmination. Yet somehow I’m still stuck in between. It’s like everything about where I’ve been is about to give way into everything about where I will be and the catalyst is who I am now. I have been learning so much over the last few weeks about trusting God, and He’s been speaking to me a lot about things with cumulative value—things that are worth very little by themselves but compound into things of great worth, like working out or practicing violin. Now all of my knowledge is about to be lived out.

I’m having to make some choices that are, for me, very difficult to make. I can’t and won’t tell you my entire backstory—suffice it to say, as long as I keep my eyes on Jesus, I will not be overcome by distress. All of the pain and hardships I’ve endured so far in life have been like miniature hurdles, each preparing me for the next one… until now. This is like a ten-page-violin-concerto, play-in-the-stratosphere-for-twelve-minutes, shift-positions-every-other-thirty-second-note hurdle. But that’s okay; Jesus is guiding every finger, every bowing, presiding over every note I play. He’s walking with me through life and He’s my moral support when I have to confront people and situations that are… unsavory.

My future has always been in God’s hands, it’s only now that my eyes of sight can’t see how I will attain to a future that I have begun to doubt God’s plans. I’m through with doubt! My eyes of faith tell me that God has great plans for my school campus and He wants to use me to bring revival. My eyes of faith tell me that I have a church family that loves and cares about me and prays for me even when I feel completely alone. My eyes of faith tell me that God has given His angels charge over me to deflect the Devil’s offensive against me. I know that God is for me, who can be against me? Surely not my future, surely not my doubt, surely not people I don’t like; and I refuse to hinder myself by not trusting God.

Impossible Chair
Eyes of sight would say this is impossible... have a little faith. 😉 Image credit: Mashable.com
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Confidence

Got any to spare? Lately, it just seems like that’s the one thing I’m missing. I have none. Zippo. Zilch. Nada. No bueno. I walk into a room full of people and I practically run to a corner where I can be a notorious “wallflower” and smile at people (sometimes) but not really talk to anyone. I make myself sick. You’d think I’d been locked in a room my whole life… ahem.

So how about that weather we’ve been having?

So anyway, I’ve been feeling a little lost and broken down. Then I did a google search and found this:

So neat! Right?

I was oddly touched by this and actually high-fived my screen. If nothing else, the force of my hand made me realize that I might even be a little frustrated too. LOL. Dear Jesus, help me.

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Greater

Here’s my latest attempt at writing poetry. You can find more of my poems in my books. You can also find my latest book in Apple’s iBookstore by searching for “Snapshots”.

Greater

I have no more to say.
You have come and overcome
my spirit with Yours,
my spiritual moors
are strengthened by Your presence.

O God, I ask for greater faith!
All I’ve seen and all I’ve heard
reignites my trust in You,
reignite my trust in Who
You have shown Yourself to be.

Greater God of greater worth
than lesser trust which I possess,
may my hope in You give birth
to such a faith as won’t regress.

Have Your way in me, O God.
All of You in all of me
will surely satisfy the hole,
the hands of the LORD make whole
and bind up what is broken.

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Unraveling Creativity

Art in the wilderness
Art in the wilderness
This is where creativity begins.

This summer is shaping up to be a wilderness for me. I have no idea where I’ll be living during the next couple months, and I may not be going back to school in the Fall. The things I’ve been enjoying, learning, and looking forward to—all of my hopes and plans for the future—have been unraveling. This is the picture I am left with: a wilderness. I’m not afraid: I’ve been here before.

It is at this place I am reminded that during times of transition, creativity also has the potential to be at its highest. As I look desolation in the face, I do not see hopelessness, but endless possibility. We are made in God’s image, and just as He created something from nothing, we are able to take what seems worthless and dead and give it life and meaning.

All right, God. It seems like for this season of life, You are clearing the canvas and giving me a wide expanse to create on. I’m still grieving the loss of what was already being created, but maybe there’s something more important I need to work on. Maybe You want to weave these projects together later on down the road. Maybe You’re simply moving me over to a part of the same picture that needs defining. I’m nervous working with a blank canvas because I have no idea where to start, but I’m determined that while it is mine to work with, I will make it as beautiful and intricate as possible. This canvas of life is going to bring You so much glory.

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Dear God, I Need Faith

Have you ever been in a place where you’re overwhelmed by a deluge of truth? It’s like the facts of life are rolling in today and I realize how much I just need to trust God. Thank You, Jesus for opening my eyes.

I feel like I have been given new information on my immediate future. It’s information that is hard to accept joyfully, because on the one hand, it reinforces the fact that I might not be coming back to school in the Fall. On the other hand, it is information that I do joyfully accept because it makes it so much easier for me to let go of the situation and trust that God has my back. He is my rearguard, defending me from the enemy behind me and tying up all of the loose ends in life situations where I feel things have been left unresolved. God is so good. Thank You, Jesus for protecting me.

So where does this leave me? I am free to live alive. I am free to pursue the gifts and abilities that God has given me. I am free to drink from the fountain of joy that bubbles up in this lowest place. Thank You, Jesus for giving me joy.

The expanse of the sky symbolizes freedom.
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Grace

I’ve had so much to think about today. Mainly, I’ve just been realizing how much I am indebted to the graciousness of other people. I wouldn’t have had a house to live in for the last four years had it not been for the graciousness of friends. Somehow I had managed to not think about because I was not dealing directly with those people (my mom was), but I still feel bad for being as complacent as I was. I am where I am in life right now because someone showed me grace. Wow.

At this point in my life, I am at a point where my living situation may be changing again. I guess this is why I’m thinking about grace right now: the grace I’ve been shown in this situation may be coming to an end. I’m not worried really, I’m entering a new season of life; yet at the same time, I’m wondering how God will next choose to show me grace because I can’t make it on my own. I know without a doubt that God is reaching out His hand for me to take hold of, and I will gladly hold on to wherever He takes me. With that said, this picture sums up what I really want to say for the last five years of my life.

All of my blessings have come from God's hand. Thank You, Jesus!
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Focus

Lately, I’ve been consumed with looking up. Literally. Here’s a picture for you.

Beams from a converted warehouse (i.e. Jessup's dormitories)

I think my obsession with looking up has some meaning to it. I’ll get to that in a little bit. I’ve also been enjoying gazing at vast expanses such as this one.

The preserve behind Jessup's campus

There’s something inspiring about wide-open spaces—something freeing that beckons you to run wild and take ownership of and responsibility for all that you see. Maybe that’s just me, maybe it’s not.

I’ve found that when I am depressed, the still small voice of God tells me to look up. He never tells me why, but I think I understand. You see, when I look up, I see the heavens and realize that life is comprised of so much more than I am experiencing right now. I begin to reflect on the tapestry of my past and all of the places I’ve been as I pursue relationship with God. I realize that things are currently not as they used to be and things will not always be as they currently are. Did you hear that? Change is a foundational ingredient in life. You cannot have life as we experience it without change. Praise God!

I think the sight of wide-open spaces reminds me to look at the big picture of my life and not become utterly consumed by all of the details of why my life is or is not working right now. This is where hope springs up. This is where the future inspires goals and dreams. This is where the tragedy of the past loses its power to control today. Thank You, Jesus!

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Lacking

Some days I wake up and I feel good. Those days are special to me. Often, I wake up and I feel a lack in my heart. There’s really no easy way to put it into words. At least, there wasn’t until tonight. There was an open mic at our school’s chapel service tonight. I listened to many, many of the students that I live with on campus give their testimonies of how God has been working in their lives, and a theme emerged: community.

The word seems so strange to me. For all of the hard times I’ve faced, for all of the challenges I gone through, for all of the lies I’ve confronted, for all of the joys I’ve cherished, I cannot say that any other person has been there with me, save God. So, now I see the fruit of my lifestyle (the only way of living I’ve ever known so it’s understandable, and I certainly don’t want your pity, but I hope that I can still change). I have no community. So I watch people give testimonies of the support they’ve found in relationships founded on love and trust and wonder how anyone manages to find such a thing. Yeah, I’m wallowing in self-pity right now and half the things coming out of mouth probably aren’t even slightly true; I should probably stop. I’m sorry, forgive me.

In response to these feelings of hopelessness and lacking (I cannot be blamed, guilted, or shamed for feeling them), I choose to cling. I cling to my relationship with God because He knows exactly how I think and understands my inner turmoil completely. I know that He has ordained all of my days, and that He is using my lacking to establish His glory in my life somehow.

I drew this.