What is this?

'What is this?'

A question I've been asking a lot lately.

A question we're not really used to anymore. It betrays a lack of familiarity; a lack of understanding. It is a question that leaves no room for pretending that we are all-knowing.

'What is this?'

An inquiry as to the very substance, nature and purpose of a thing unknown.

'What is this?'

In confusion, in wonder; confounded, dumbstruck, bewildered... So used to anticipating every detail, to never being amazed, to never being at a loss for mental clarity... And suddenly we are utterly undone.

'God, what is this?'

What is this situation? What is this journey? What is this that You would require of me in this moment? I am unfamiliar with this, I haven't seen this before. What is this?

There is something unnerving about uncharted waters: a trembling as we approach the precipice, trepidation as we near the unknown.

We have been asking for expansion, for increase, for forward movement. We've longed for a shift, a change, an advancement, a way out of the stalemate we've been in with our circumstances. Deeper depths, higher heights, greater realms in God.

We got what we wanted.

But the problem is that anything new, fresh, greater, deeper is, by necessity, outside the realm of our current experience.

We've approached the edge of our own understanding and with a loathing glance back at the mundane, we turned our eyes heavenward and whispered 'forward'.

But as we stand gazing out at the hazy horizon of the unfamiliar... At all the wonder and terror of a grim sea split as easily as a veil, looming on either side of the path we must walk... At a pillar of fire, burning furiously from the dust of a seemingly endless desert to the vast black sky stretched above it... At the terrible and majestic power of Almighty God, smiling slyly as He opens up the new we've been begging for and foolishly believing we were more than ready for...

With dazzled eyes, we stand awestruck and now whisper heavenward (and with far more humility this time): 'God, what is this?'

Courage brothers, for we are soon to know.

Things I love...

Summer rainstorms.
Rainstorms any time.
A good book.
A bed strewn with pillows.
A caramel latte.
Black coffee with dessert.
Dark hair.
Green eyes.
Red nail polish.
Wrinkled faces.
Starlight.
3am.
Sunrise. When you haven't slept yet.
A good game of air hockey.
Bon Jovi.
David Cook.
Tattoos.
Travelling by boat.
Attending weddings.
Pictures of Greece.
Great love songs. Like Seabreeze.
Chicken marsala.
Tiramisu.
Tree houses.
A swing in the yard.
Decorating desserts.
Cooking soup.
The children in Haiti.
The Sea of Galillee.
The springs of Ein Gedi.
Saying good morning.
Being called love. And kid. And little one.
Photography that captures perfection in the mundane.
An afternoon at my Nonna's house.
That moment in the Atlanta snow.
Quotes scribbled anywhere.
Handwriting.
Invitations in calligraphy.
Wet ink pens.
Pencil drawings.
Having my secrets discovered.
Letters in the mail.
Firm handshakes, warm hugs, soft kisses.
Fresh kiwi.
Men's cologne.
Summer dresses.
Feeling delighted in.
Christmas time.
Stillettos.
White candles.
The word valor.
Little boys in pillowcase capes.
Little girls in dress up wings.
Real handkerchiefs.
Walking with an umbrella.
Pink hydrangea with cream roses.
Black cherries.
British accents.
Accents in general.
Rooms full of windows.
Walking through gardens.
Being alone with Him in beautiful places.
A kiss on the hand.
Playing Mario Brothers on Super Nintendo.
Beaches at night.
Autumn weather.
Winter coats.
Casablanca, the movie.
Suits, ties and cufflinks.
Pocket watches.
Writing in beautiful places.
Laughing until my ribs ache.
Singing in the car.
Wind in my hair.
Breakfast at night.
Dinner with friends.
Drive-in movies.
Arcades.
Wrinkled hands.
Grand pianos.
Electric guitars.
Anything by C.S. Lewis.
People playing with my hair.
Driving with the windows down.
Antique telephones.
Impressionist paintings.
Getting dressed up. Ballgowns any day.
4 wheelers. Mud tracks.
A ride on a jet ski.
Thai food. And sushi.
The mixed CD he made me.
Going for a hike.
White Christmas lights. Strung up any time.
Banyan trees.
Slow dancing when there is no music.
Dipping my hand into a running stream.
Waves on the ocean.
Driving over bridges.
Stretching.
Riding horses.
Going out barefoot.
Vacationing on an island.
Lying in a hammock.
The smell of the ocean.
A nap in the sun.
Walking into a cold store on a hot day.
Getting drenched in the rain.
Being spontaneous.
The words subtle and seldom.
Praying with teenagers.
Tear-soaked shoulders.
Speaking to leaders.
Dreaming when I'm awake.
You. And not just for reading this lengthy list. <3

Dealing with disappointment...

Have you ever been deeply frustrated by your own failures? By the fact that, no matter how you try, you just can't seem to get it right?

Perhaps the better question would be, is there anyone out there who hasn't experienced this frustration? If so, please contact me: I'd love to know your secret!

The truth is that we're all too familiar with our own inadequacies. We have an amazing experience that builds in us great expectations. We decide that this time things are going to be different, that we're going to get our act together, be disciplined, have control...

We have so many lofty expectations of ourselves and then all at once, with one stupid choice or one utterly ugly moment, all of our lofty perceptions of ourselves come crashing to the floor. And as we're sweeping up the pieces again, through the tears of frustration that sting our eyes, we're reminded of how many times we've been here before... and begin to dread how many times we'll be here again.

What is the hope with so many broken promises? What is the hope with so many failed attempts?

I'm wrestling with that thought myself today and wondering how God can be so patient with me despite so many shortcomings.

I turn to the Scriptures for relief and find that nagging sense that I've been neglecting my reading of them as a source of additional frustration. But God's mercy breaks upon me as I recall that I am not the only one to have miserably failed:

"We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God - through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin."
Romans 7:14-25

Wow. 'For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing.' I don't know that I've ever felt so understood as I do in hearing one of the great men of church history speaking so plainly the frustration I've always felt. Have I not also cried out on many occasions "what a wretched man I am!"?

But fortunately, Paul points us to the right conclusion. Not of another wave of energy and effort. Not in more misguided hopes in our own righteousness. Pure, humility-inducing rescue. That is the only cure for this sin-sickness that plagues mankind. "Who will rescue me from this body of death?" He will. He has. He still does. He has not forsaken me, nor grown weary of my constant need for redemption.

And once again, I find myself humbled: sinking, drowning and ever in need of a Savior.

But His mercy is new every morning and He knew I would always be in need of Him.

And again to that banner He has purchased for me with His own blood:
"I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ died for nothing!" -Galatians 2:21

His death was not in vain. He did not die to save that which was already secure. God does not indulge an elaborate show in the death of His only begotten.

No, He died because we could not otherwise have lived. He rescued us because we were in need of rescue. And we remain in need today. And whatever made us think that He is intimidated by our persistent need? Who told us that we could continue to be Christians without Christ?

Drink deeply of the grace of God that beckons you today.

All frustrations and failures aside, call upon the Lord who died to save even those who should know better. His love for you has not faded and is the only thing stronger than the sin that has been your cruel and constant companion. Run to redemption even now and live.

Silly confession #25...

I have decided to live deeply. I have decided to live breathing. I have decided to live in a state of perpetual enough-ness.

I believe this is the Lord's will for the life of man.

I've decided to enjoy the sky. I've decided to run the earth. I've decided to dive into cool water. I've decided to scale the mountains. I've decided to stand in the rain. I've decided to drink deeply this adventure.

Whether I journey alone or among many, I've decided to just live the moment and release the rest.

I wish to be marked by gratitude, by valor, by hope, by childlike love.

I wish to live deeply and love freely.

I wish to be a missionary ever.

I hope to always have a song in my heart and the courage to sing it regardless of who hears.

My confession is that I am still in so many ways just a child. A child who inquires with unconcealed delight, "you know my name?!?"

A child who wants to be seen. A girl longing to be loved. A daughter who wants to sing sweet songs and be heard with delight. A dreamer who wants to do something great in this world.

What better way is there to live than with open hands and open heart?

So open me today, Lord. Let me be vulnerable. Let me be foolishly faith-filled. Let me love and be loved fearlessly. Let me touch the world without regard for the wounds proximity can bring.

I want dirt on my hands and tears on my shoulders. I want to touch a dying and bleeding world in hopes of bringing just a bit of healing.

I want to shine with what small light I have in hopes of dispelling at least some darkness. I cannot do much, but what I can do, I will do.

Living deeply. Is that not the great adventure?

Life abundant. Is that not a very different thing than we often make it?

"Let me know that You hear me. Let me know Your touch. Let me know that You love me. Let that be enough."