Re-Discovery

I made a stand for poetry.

Solemnly swore to dedicate myself to it.
Little by little. Day by day.


To read it.
To learn how to plunge beneath its surface,
And be lured into it’s honest yet mysterious depths.


And how to write it.

It quickly captivated me.
It shone out my eyes.
And tingled the hairs on my arms.
It made the sun seem more radiant.
And the moon seem more magical.


Then all at once it disappeared.
Like it wanted to be rid of me.
But it was I.
I who had stopped letting it pour over me.
And it drifted away before I knew it was gone.

It has been said
That absence makes the heart fonder.
Now is the time for my re-discovery
Of life, delight, and captivation.

Oh, joy of poetry, return to me!

Ask Me

Some time when the river is ice ask me
Mistakes I have made. Ask me whether
What I have done is my life. Others
Have come in their slow way into
My thought, and some have tried to help
Or to hurt: ask me what difference
Their strongest love or hate has made.
I will listen to what you say.
You and I can turn and look
At the silent river and wait. We know
The current is there, hidden; and there
Are comings and goings from miles away
That hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say.

—William Stafford

Beyond All Splendor

It's 2:19am.

It’s sixty degrees with just a hint of a breeze. And all I can smell is spring, and LIFE, as I sit here in my tattered tee on my fifth floor windowsill, looking out to survey my glorious view from atop this mountain.
The only things I hear are the birds chirping, and I have reasoned that they must just be as happy as me—simply ecstatic to be alive.
I am so thankful to be here. To witness such beauty and be overcome by all the rich blessings I have been given.
From the twinkling lights of the life below my city on a hill, to the splendor of this rich night sky, to the vastness of the land set before me, to the feelings that overwhelm me—I am SO small.
Oh God, let me never forget how marvelous you are. How mighty, how merciful, and how loving. You are rich beyond all splendor.

Visits to Tower Hill

Went to visit my grandma today because I’m leaving tomorrow to go back to school. Caught her just before dinner. She was already sitting in the dining room with two friends. But I went in to sit and talk with her for a few minutes before I had to go home.

Every time I see her in the dining room she always sits next to the same two women. Or at least so it seems. And this woman on her right always looks horribly sad and like something is very wrong. Like she wants to get out. Like something is deeply troubling her. I’m not sure of the reason she’s in the nursing home. But her eyes always hold this intensely deep and desperate look. It’s really concerning to me. To almost an overwhelming degree. And today she reached across the table to me and in this hoarse whisper just said “Can you help me?”
Over and over and over. Faster and faster.

And I tried to calm her down and just said, “Of course! What do you need help with?” And then she looked down and kept breathing reallly heavily and then said, with total desperation. “I…I…I don’t know. I don’t know.”

And I think what gets me the most is that everytime I’m there and I see her, she just sits and watches and listens to me interact with my grandma. And she doesn’t like to talk. Just watches.
And for some reason I get this feeling something huge has happened in her past. Something really distressing. And she sees something in my grandma that’s she’s never had. And I don’t think it’s jealousy, it’s just this sad desperation to obtain whatever it is that makes my grandma so joyful and content before her life is over.

It troubled me so tremendously. It was SO utterly sad. And it really frightened me. So much so that I honestly wondered if I’d ever have the emotional/mental stamina to work in a nursing home…

Le Bon Berger

“Lord You know I’m such a stupid sheep. 

I worry about all sorts of things;

whether I’ll find grazing land, 

still cool water, a fold at night in which I can feel safe. 

I don’t.
I only find troubles, want, loss. 

I turn aside from you to plan my rebel way.

I go astray. 

I follow other shepherds, even other stupid sheep. 

Then when I end up on some dark mountain, 

cliffs before, wild animals behind, 

I start to bleat: 

Shepherd, Shepherd, 

find me, save me, or I die. 

And You do.”  

—Joseph Bayly

Jésus dit: "Je suis le bon berger. Le bon berger donne sa vie, pour ses brebis."

—Jean 10:11

A Very Tiresome Level of Worry

It is fearlessness that I desire most.

In the situations that make my heart ache, that make my mind dizzy, and make my stomach churn with worry.
A very tiresome level of worry. And complete weariness. Moments when my mind is consumed with nothing except the terrifying thought that I might lose control. That I might fail. That I will lose something.


Like a friend I hold dear.

I am so scared of failing, so scared of losing control sometimes, that I lose sight of God. I lose sight of the only one I can wholly rely on, for He is wholly in control.

I forget not only his sovereignty, but his faithfulness and goodness. His ability to transform ashes into something beautiful. To purify and renew that which has been stained and distorted. Even filthy sinners. And I constantly forget that all he asks me to do is simply trust him. To lay my worries--the things that plague my mind, body, and soul--at His feet. To believe that the people that I hold dear are indeed very dear to him too. And that He loves us.

My heart is ridden with worry, and aching, and fear. But unless I fully trust God, unless I lay my heart before him and put my worries in his hands, I will never know fearlessness.The fearlessness I seek is only gained by fully trusting my Savior and believing he can do what I deem impossible. As I have been reminded time and time again, nothing is impossible with God (Luke 1:37).

Psalm Eighty Six

Hear me, LORD, and answer me, for I am poor and needy. Guard my life, for I am faithful to you; save your servant who trusts in you.

You are my God; have mercy on me, Lord, for I call to you all day long. Bring joy to your servant, Lord, for I put my trust in you.You, Lord, are forgiving and good, abounding in love to all who call to you.

Hear my prayer, LORD; listen to my cry for mercy.

When I am in distress, I call to you, because you answer me. Among the gods there is none like you, Lord; no deeds can compare with yours. All the nations you have made will come and worship before you, Lord; they will bring glory to your name. For you are great and do marvelous deeds; you alone are God.

Teach me your way, LORD, that I may rely on your faithfulness; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name. I will praise you, Lord my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever. For great is your love toward me; you have delivered me from the depths, from the realm of the dead.

Arrogant foes are attacking me, O God; ruthless people are trying to kill me—they have no regard for you.
But you, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness. Turn to me and have mercy on me; show your strength in behalf of your servant; save me, because I serve you just as my mother did.

Give me a sign of your goodness, that my enemies may see it and be put to shame, for you, LORD, have helped me and comforted me.

Enough

This is why I love my mom.

I've struggled often lately to keep from worrying about you two - your uncertainties or your struggles with faith and obedience. Today, at work I was distracted again, and I called out to God for grace. God is so faithful! He brought to mind a poem I learned years ago. I searched for it and attached it here. Previously I only knew of the last two stanzas.

Enough
by Frances Ridley Havergal

I AM so weak, dear Lord, I cannot stand
One moment without Thee!
But oh! the tenderness of Thine enfolding,
And oh! the faithfulness of Thine upholding,
And oh! the strength of Thy right hand!

That strength is enough for me!

I am so needy, Lord, and yet I know
All fulness dwells in Thee;
And hour by hour that never-failing treasure
Supplies and fills, in overflowing measure,
My least, my greatest need; and so,

Thy grace is enough for me!

It is so sweet to trust Thy word alone:
I do not ask to see
The unveiling of Thy purpose, or the shining
Of future light on mysteries untwining:
Thy promise-roll is all my own,

Thy word is enough for me!

The human heart asks love; but now I know
That my heart hath from Thee
All real, and full, and marvellous affection,
So near, so human; yet divine perfection
Thrills gloriously the mighty glow!
Thy love is enough for me!

There were strange soul-depths, restless, vast, and broad,
Unfathomed as the sea;
An infinite craving for some infinite stilling;
But now Thy perfect love is perfect filling!
Lord Jesus Christ, my Lord, my God,
Thou, Thou art enough for me!

I have so much longing for you to live constantly in the knowledge that God's perfect love fills our deepest cravings with stillness! Anything else we seek to fill us is an idol that traps us, robs us, destroys us. It is all "lesser things."

God's encouragement to me today is my encouragement to you tonight.

His strength is enough!
His grace is enough!
His Word is enough!
His love is enough!
He is enough!

Let's all be done with lesser things!

Love you!
Mom

Brown Penny

I whispered, 'I am too young,'
And then, 'I am old enough';
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
'Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.'
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.

O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.

--W.B. Yeats 

Go Up Higher

by Edward Heppenstall

When you receive an invitation, go and sit down in the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say, “Come up higher my friend.” Luke 14:10, N.E.B.

Jesus was speaking to men who eagerly grasped at the best places. Half the misery and anxiety in people's lives springs from the exaggerated importance they attach to themselves and continually cherish. These are people with a selfish temperament, who covet earnestly the best scats rather than the best gifts, status with men rather than standing with God.

Most of us proceed from the idea that we live in a society where self-defense is the first law of life, and the second is like unto it—self-assertion. It may just be that Christ's recommendation that we take the lowest place is worth trying.

About forty-five years ago in Oxford, England, there lived a brilliant young university professor, H.A. Hodges, an English don in Balliol college, Oxford's most illustrious school. He was passing through a period of doubt and skepticism. He had spent years arguing the fine points of the Christian religion. The he experienced a complete change in his life. He himself tells the story. One evening he was walking down the main street of Oxford and happened to pass a bookseller's window. There among the books was a nineteenth century print of Jesus washing the disciples' feet. His eyes were riveted to that scene. A ray of light from the Holy Spirit illumined his mind. It suddenly dawned on him what kind of person Jesus was. Hodges said he know then that the God of heaven was his footman; all the truth about the Incarnation, the life and death of Christ, came into proper focus.

Do you know what a footman is? Hodges spoke as one familiar with the role of footmen in the great houses of England. The footman is the flunky. He does all the lowest menial duties. Hodges told himself, “If that God is like that, He has my life. If God can descend from heaven and become the servant of mankind and give His life for men, I will commit my life to Him.” He did just that.

Christ is saying to us, “The best way up is the way down.” We are to humble ourselves, accept the low place of service in which our Lord Himself sat.

Snickerdoodles

Someone told me I'd be a good mom today. And it terrified and thrilled me all at once. Because as elated as I am for those days ahead, I am no where near ready.

My friend Chloe shared a note of hers with me the other day:

When I, Lord willing, get married and have kids, I want my home to be filled with love. And laughter. And giggles. I want it to be filled with history. I want the rich voices and joyful laughter of visitors to ring loudly. I want the scents of Christmas cookies and Thanksgiving pumpkin pie to fill up the whole house. I want the sounds of piano playing and the strumming of guitars to grace my ears constantly.

I want to hear voices blending together in song. I want the singing to fill every empty space. I want strangers to feel welcome the second they step foot into our home. I want to hear the rain pitter-pattering on the window on lazy days. I want to see the sun caressing the carpet through the windows on sunny days. I want to curl up by a crackling fire while the snow gently falls to the ground outside. I want to hand out sweet, tangy popsicles on the front porch on summer afternoons. I want to relax with my hubby on our cozy, front porch swing, simply because I want to be with him.

I want to play in the fields surrounding our house during the spring and I want to jump in the leaves with my kids during the brisk, autumn months. I want to lay on the carpet with my dear ones and put together puzzles, no matter how tedious they may seem to be. I want bookcases filled to the brim with oodles and canoodles of books. I want hugs all the time, both given and received. I want the spirit of love to fill our house and warm the hearts of all who enter.

I want to make pancakes on Saturday mornings and not get dressed until three in the afternoon. I want to play Balderdash and Scattergories at the kitchen table. I want snuggle-on-the-couch-time with my kids, underneath layers and layers of warm quilts and afghans. I want bubble baths; I want to hear little kids giggling uncontrollably from splashing each other, fully aware of the mess they’re making. I want the smell of snickerdoodles to waft upstairs and wake my kids on Christmas morning. I want first words, first steps, first bites, first days of school, and first-times-driving-behind-the-wheel all to be considered milestones. 

But most of all… I want everyone to feel God the second they enter our home. I want every visitor to enter into a home in which God’s glory is undeniably evident and His love is proclaimed. I want it to be a home that celebrates the treasure and blessing is to be called children of the One and Only Redeemer! I want them to feel and see all that He is through the lives of my family. Happiness. Kindness. Grace. Mercy. Love.

Every one of those words are overwhelming to me. Because yeah, of course that's what every mother wants her home to be like. Her life to be like. We're all afraid of dreaming that big, because we're afraid of being let down. And perhaps, more than likely, our lives will not be "all of the above." It won't be everything we've ever dreamed. There won't always be sun beaming through our windows when we wake up. There won't always be pancakes on Saturday morning. Or smiles and giggles.

There will be times of tears. There will be spankings, time outs, plenty of back talk, arguments and discipline. And it won't be awesome. Life won't be perfect. I won't always say the right thing as a mother, or have the perfect amount of patience, or choose the right course of action to deal with every issue I face. I won't always be the perfect wife. I won't be perfectly selfless, and won't always be thinking of the needs of my husband and my responsibilities as a wife. But, with God's help, I will still strive for all of those things. I will still strive to be a woman of God, even if I don't have the perfect house, the most obedient children, or always hear whining instead of giggles. I pray my house will be a house of the Lord, even when we are faced with struggles. That I would continually seek the Lord's face, even when I feel unhappy, ill-contented, or completely spent. I pray He will give me strength and make me a woman, a daughter, a sister, a wife, and a mother who seeks only his face, and can be content with everything he provides for me and remind me that it will always be enough. That I would notice every blessing he crowns me with on a daily basis, even if it's amidst not having enough money for Christmas presents, staring at a sink full of dishes, or dealing with an unruly child.


I pray that he is already making me that woman now.

The Joy of Your Salvation

I've been pretty blind. For a while now. 
And it's such an awful blindness.


Here I am. Your wretched child. 
I turn my shoulder to each and every blessing you crown me with on a daily basis. 
My mind is constantly consumed with selfish thoughts. It is a mind that never slumbers, churning up sinful thoughts, and planning out sinful actions. And it never stops. 


You have saved and redeemed me. Shown me a love that transcends any love I'll ever know.
But save me again each day.
Rescue me again daily. And remind me of your love, forgiveness, and faithfulness.
Give me the strength to serve, imitate, and bring glory to you without ceasing.


Help me strive to live in the knowledge of my freedom in you (my redemption by the blood of your son). I owe you my life. Help me to give you that each day. Help me to serve you, even my poor, wretched state. 


Take my meager heart, God.
Take me. Break me. And make me.
Transform me into a better servant. All for your glory. 


Amen.



"Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me." --Psalm 51: 10-12

Reckless Intrepidity

Little bird, you're reaching high.
To grasp the promise of an unshackled sky.
That wild expanse which before you lies.

This nest that holds you won’t let you fly.
So you stare at the ground which beneath you lies.

Bursting forth in reckless intrepidity,
You will meet the air with a virgin cry.

The wings you deemed ready
Will only now prove a lie.
And you will feel the fall.
Realizing you know not
How to die.”

—L.D.

Set Aflame Our Affections

Almighty God, you are the Creator and Lord of all that is.  From you, through you, and to you are all things, and we stand humbled and empowered to be in the flood stream of your grace, love, and life.


As we come together to begin this new academic year, we confess to you that we come entangled in our sin and profoundly aware of our finitude.  You will always be the Creator, and we always your creation; so to you we look as we study the intricacy and mystery of your world.


We ask that you would illumine our minds, open our hearts, and set aflame our affections.


Would you, as you both reveal and cloak the wonders of your world, give us enthusiasm and patience, diligence and rest?


Would you, as you humble us, give us ever-greater confidence in your character?


Would you, as we become ever more aware of our sins and struggles, soak us in your Gospel.


Would you, as you teach us, also heal us?


Father, we are thankful for the gift of your Son, the one who not only holds all things together, but who also knows the pains and struggles of our lives.  We thank you for the hope of redemption he achieved which lifts our gaze to the new creation.


And we ask that by your Spirit you might refresh our community, giving us a taste of the heavenly communion which awaits, where we will stand in your Triune glory, captured by your beauty, secure in your presence, freely loving one another and living in harmony with the rest of your creation.


We ask these things in Jesus name,
Amen.




(Kelly Kapic, Covenant College, Convocation 2010)

Humming Someone Else's Tune

“After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning 
And company doesn’t mean security. 
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts 
And presents aren’t promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats 
With your head up and your eyes open 
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child, 
And you learn to build all your roads on today 
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans 
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight. 
After a while you learn… 
That even sunshine burns if you get too much. 
So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. 
And you learn that you really can endure… 
That you really are strong 
And you really do have worth… 
And you learn and learn… 
With every good-bye you learn.”

—	Jorge Luis Borges

Wide-Eyed & Terrified

Jesus, I’m done. I’m spent. And I’m scared. I’m terrified of everything.
Of who I could be. And where I’ll end up. I’m scared of what I’m losing. And the joy I’m not finding anymore.
I’m losing hope.

Please hold me. :(

There Is No Fear In Love

God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him. In this way, love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment, because in this world we are like him. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.
1 John 4:16-18

Southie

Of ladybug magnets with broken wings. In a cozy kitchen where vitamins got lost behind the fridge every day.

Of fountains nestled between brownstones. Lazy frogs with wiry tongues and flies darting about with no hope.

Of a cat who ruled the ever-winding stairs. Stairs that went on forever, up to the heavens. My heavens.

Of a church, a pastor, and a father. School on Sundays, with Laura.
And reeling in paper fish on my line, while learning of better fishermen.

Of innumerable grandmothers and innumerable kisses.

Of Melba & Eddie. And green grapes always on a counter beyond my grasp.

Of push-up icecream pops that never reached our tongues, but only the apples of our cheeks.

Of polkadot swimsuits and blue plastic pools.

Of Betsey's fear of motorcycles.

Of being waited for, longed for, and loved.
Of his scratchy beard and her butterfly kisses. <3

Of the cracked light from the study door, just enough to see a forehead creased in thought. Or sometimes shoulders hunched over a guitar.

Of faces pressed against the pane, watching the K Street garbage man.

Of all the things I remember now,
That all took place in Southie.

Halfway

Tomorrow is my half-birthday. For some reason it's always been special. Exciting. God only knows why. It's really just like every other day. But at the same time, it's not. It glows and gleams a whole lot more than the other 364 days of the year (with the possible exception of my actual birthday). Usually, to celebrate properly, we buy a pie crust and fill it with a half-gallon of icecream, cut it straight down the middle, poke a candle in each hefty half and then Tim and I devour it. Tradition.

And most of the time, we just take it easy the whole day. Do something together. Hang out with just our family. Go a little crazy.

This year, there probably won't be any icecream pie. Our lives are crazy. And besides that, I only get to celebrate with half of my family. Though it is, however, the half that usually eats the other half of that pie with me.

I am thankful that God made me a twin. That he gave me a brother, and a really spectacular one at that. A brother who's been with me all year at college and now here with me this summer too. It's been a bumpy one. I keep taking for granted how much of a blessing it is that I have him so close.

And I have been immeasurably blessed with two marvelous parents who let us both stay here to work, letting Georgia steal us for the three and a half sacred months of what was supposed to be a summer spent with our family. It was a hard decision. I can't measure the heartache, the impatience, the frustration... the loneliness. But God knows. He knows it's still a hard decision. But he has made it clear it was the right one and he's been present along this whole bumpy and terrifying ride. He has been faithful.
And we're halfway there.

I'll Be Doing My Best