the distortion of face value

In the spirit of my last post, I found this video to be quite validating to a few of the points I hoped to make. This is just a taste of the twisted tactics the world uses to define for us what beauty is. May we understand and remember that true beauty should be more than a pretty, edited, enhanced face. Complexion should only be the beginning of a loveliness that lies beneath our skin, a loveliness that only Christ can create.



"No wonder our perception of beauty is distorted..."




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air-brushed charms

I awkwardly steered my overloaded shopping cart into a checkout aisle and patiently waited for the line to dissolve. Grocery shopping always exhausts me. Maybe it's because I wait until we are scrapping the cupboards for breadcrumbs before I head to the store, forcing me to create my own mini-Everest inside a shopping cart. (New Year's Resolution #317: get better at meal planning!) I leaned against the cart as I waited in hopes of catching a second wind when my eyes met the sleek, outspoken magazine covers glaring from their shelves.

Oh those glossy, air-brushed faces begged for me to look, admire, and compare. Their hair, skin, eyes, complexion, curves and clothing (or lack thereof) seeped with a perfection I obviously lack. And not only did they assault my vision with the silhouettes of modern attraction but they also tempted my reasoning with vain promises: "Loose 10lbs in just 10 days!", "Ways to look younger in minutes!", "The body he dreams of!", "Tame your tummy!" and much, much more disgusting propaganda. It was here amidst my innocent quest for carrots, sour cream, and dishwasher detergent that I realized, perhaps with more consciousness than I've had in a while, that our culture is entirely obsessed with superficial beauty. And it's slowly corrupting us.

Almost everyday we are forced to decide between valuing and gravitating toward worldly attractiveness versus a holy beauty. We obviously recognize what the world considers beautiful. Go to the mall and look at the mannequins or stop by your local convenient store and pick up a magazine. Or better yet, observe the confused and insecure young women speckled across our nation who find their identity and value by how closely they can imitate the women plastered across those magazine covers.

Worldly beauty always flaunts itself -- so it's easy to spot. At it's core it is selfish and arrogant. "Just look at me" it demands. And with enough make-up, hairspray, designer clothes, and maybe even a little surgery (or at least a good editing software), you could attain to this fickle description of beauty. Yes, this paragon may turn a few heads, but their fascination will travel only as deep as your bronze-tinted foundation.

In the end, physical beauty (which is all the world seems to value) doesn't last. All the wrinkle cream, anti-age scrubs, and hair color in the world can't dilute the truth that physical beauty fades. "Charm is deceitful, beauty is vain..." (Prov. 31:30) But this is no cause for panic (so take a deep breath). God has an entirely different purpose and measure for beauty -- a beauty that speaks of permanence and holiness instead of shallowness and vanity.

(To be continued...)

start the day right

What are some things you simply must have to start your day off right? Well, one of my necessities is brewing downstairs and the other is sitting on the end table beside me. A hot cup of tea puts the "good" in my morning, but the leather-bound book at my elbow filled with underlines and red words gives meaning to my life. But I am sometimes guilty of neglecting it. Somehow it seems easier to pour a second cup of tea than to peel open the cover of God's Word and drink it in. Really, it makes no sense because those words on holy pages would outlast the effects even a good cup of tea has on me.

But with every morning comes the opportunity to begin it right. This morning has the potential to launch a wonderful day given the right fuel. And so with a steaming mug of tea in hand, I open wide the beautiful gilded pages that history and time couldn't erase and pray my heart listens. It's going to be a good day.

in the residue of beginnings

I've been sitting here staring at this blinking cursor for about 15 minutes trying to think up something clever to blog about. I know I am probably making this more complicated than it should be (typical for me, you should know), but I struggle with beginning things sometimes. You might be the same way. It's like beginning a journal. That first page is so white and clean and perfect ... you almost don't want to mar it with black ink. Theoretically the rest of the journal hinges on that first page so I better make it good, I reason. But I guess if that intimidates me to never begin anything, something is wrong.

You see, I am stricken with a disease called perfectionism. And it's not as glamorous as it may sound. I consider it a plague, in fact. I can't see things without wincing at the potential failure. I am more likely to keep my hands to myself than reach out to see what it feels like. I content myself with staring through thick glass windows instead of trotting down the front porch steps to enjoy the rain or sunshine. Because, who knows? I might make a huge, terrible, unalterable mistake. (yes, that had a twinge of sarcasm in it...)

It seems naive in these little black words on the computer screen. But it gets bigger in my head. I'm tired of living life with this illusive raincloud staring over my shoulder. I was reading in the gospel of Matthew this morning and perused over some verses that are beginning to morph into an anthem for me.

"You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven." (Matt. 5:14-16)

After reading over these verses a couple of times to fight off the familiarity, I thought to myself, "Why are you living under a basket?" It may seem safer, but it's also stupid. And it will eventually suffocate you. God made you a light ... so shine. This could mean different things for different people. But a few things are core. One being our works. They are supposed to be good works that are obviously, but not blatantly (see Matthew 6:1), visible to the world. As God's workmanship (we are the light), we were created to walk in the good works which He prepared beforehand (Eph. 2:10). Figuring out what "works" He has prepared for me is where I trip myself up though. Again, this doesn't have to be complicated or confusing. I am finding that the simple, daily obedience to God's Word is what He desires.

The second principle is the glorification of our Father in heaven. It's really not about me or my works -- but about God. He is the ultimate objective here. My purpose on earth is to shine my light, but He is the reason and also the means of illumination. "For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." (2 Cor. 4:6) Any light that I reflect is produced by Jesus Christ who enlightened my heart with His grace and truth.

I think some of my perfectionistic fixation (wow, what a mouthful) is rooted in my pride. I want to appear a certain way to people. I want my report card to speak of success instead of failures. I want to get off the ground with no bumps or bruises. No dents in the paint, so to speak. I only want people to see me shine when I look perfect. Well, that is just never going to happen. And in the beauty of God's grace, that's ok.

the night before Christmas

So it's Christmas Eve. The tangled lights around the tree are casting a spell on my vision. Light seems to be glittering everywhere. Quietly I sit here on this fluffy sofa, almost in unbelief that Christmas is actually here. Where did all the weeks go that protected me from this special day? Christmas kinda crept up on me this year. I'm prepared according to cultural standards. My gifts are purchased, the house is clean and decorated, all the food is prepared, the family is here. Yet somehow it still doesn't feel like Christmas to me.

Which urges me to wonder ... what makes Christmas "Christmas"?

It could be nostalgic snapshots that roll though my mind: Watching my family talk and laugh among one another while I listen from a distance with a warm cup of tea in my hands. Younger siblings shrieking in delight as missed relatives pull into our driveway. Apple spiced candles burning on the fireplace mantel. The beautiful green wreath enclosing five candles representing the many wonders of our Savior's birth. The music of merry celebration. The thrilling sound of paper tearing followed by squeals or tears of joy. Christmas arouses memories filled with warmth, joy, and the smell of cinnamon.

But also I wonder what made the first Christmas special. I don't think it induced the same vanilla-coated memories I associated with this holiday. It probably felt like an ordinary day. Forget Christmas spirit and red ribbons. Life was closing in from every corner. Demands, dust, and danger were the decorations of Mary and Joseph's first Christmas. They were far from family, home, and comfort. But God was near. So near in fact, they could stroke His face with their fingers.

My point is ... whether we feel "Christmasy" or not ... Jesus is near. He invaded life in the form of a helpless, tender baby, and grew up to become our sacrificial substitute -- ultimately changing the world and eternity forever. He didn't wait until everyone was gathered around the tree with fidgety anticipation. He came on a silent night, but it was a holy night. He came so we could be near God. And that nearness is what I love about Christmas. Family, gifts, cocoa, and Christmas lights do make me happy. But it is the quiet, thankful moments I cherish the most. Thank You, Jesus, for coming so I could be near You, especially on Christmas ... and the night before.

love the bird, dear

This morning brought a thump
upon my window
I peered out to see a bird
fallen from his flight
crumbled, broken, shaking in fear,
limp from impact, his feathers askew.

My heart retreated for protection,
never to love a dying creature.
For pain can only be gained, this I know.
Chided by the Lord at my frigid heart,
I heard strong whispers, "Love the bird, dear, love the bird..."
Why? For what profit? It is dead for sure...

"If you never love the dying--
you shall never love at all"

Sisters and mother gathered to the window.
I wanted to shelter them for despair,
"I think he is gone, don't look for long."
Mom said a prayer, "Jesus heal this poor bird,"
and I stood from afar and scoffed,
"The bird is dead -- don't waste a prayer."

Minutes inched by, the bird began blinking--
we all stared in wonderment.
I walked outside and nudged him with a branch...
Up and away he flew into a crayola blue sky
healed and alive -- living to fly again.
My heart smarted from conviction:

If I never love the dying--
I shall never love at all.

an embrace that can't be torn asunder

What is it that I love in loving You? You are the light that shines into my soul which no physical place can contain, where time does not snatch away the lovely sound, where no breeze disperses the sweet fragrance, where no eating diminishes the food, and where there is an embrace that can't be torn asunder. This is what I love when I love my God.

What is this God? I asked the earth, and it answered, "I am not He." Everything in the earth made the same confession. I asked the sea and the deeps and the creeping things, and they replied, "we are not your God; seek above us." I asked the fleeting winds, and the entire air with its inhabitants answered, "I am not God." I asked the heavens, the sun, moon, and stars; and they answered, "Neither are we the God whom you seek."

I replied to all these things that surround me: "You have told me about my God, that you are not He. Tell me something about Him." With a loud voice they all cried out, "He made us." My question had come from observing them, and their reply came from their beauty of order.

Isn't this beauty of form visible to all whose senses are unimpaired? Why, then, does it not say the same things to all? Animals, both great and small, see but are unable to question its meaning. Their senses are not endowed with the reason that would enable them to judge the evidence their senses report.

-St. Augustine

Capriciousness and Camomile

(This is a follow-up to my questions post from a dew days ago. I have decided to break  some of the questions into individual posts for space and clarity.)

Kit (echoed by Jen and Camille) asked: "How in the world do we as women deal with our crazy up and down emotions, particularly from a Biblical perspective? Have you had experiences like this, and what did you do? And what tea did you drink while you were doing it? :) "

To begin, yes, I do struggle with my emotions. And hopefully I am learning to handle them better through God's grace and truth, though I am by no means an expert. I only know that the goal of my life is "to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God." (Col. 1:10) Applying this to my emotional life has helped shape a backbone into a somewhat varied and unstable issue.

But let me quickly address a common false assumption among many truth-loving Christians regarding emotions. First of all, emotions are not evil. I have been guilty of such a judgment. Somewhere in my quest to honor God with my emotions I confused emotions with sin. We cannot fall into this trap. Emotions are created by God and can be used to glorify and enhance our love for Him. If we think that by snuffing or ignoring the existence of emotions is pleasing God, we have grossly missed the mark and discolored a fundamental distinction between humans and the rest of creation. So rather than disdaining our emotions, we must learn how to properly and biblically facilitate them.

Let's start at ground level. God made us. He made emotions. So obviously He can direct us in the right course on how to handle them. Emotions are not the truth, but they can align with (or contradict) the truth. The key is to create (or rather discover in Scripture) a bold, unwavering line in which we can examine our emotions to see if they align to God's standard. We should never act on or build upon a shifty foundation, and our emotions are capricious and make horrible footings. We need something stronger and immovable as our foundation -- we need the Word of God to consent or condemn the changing colors of our feelings.

All this sounds good and most of us know this, but how do we practically apply this to those, to borrow Anne of Green Gables' term, "depths of despair" days? I see it like this: Last year I had a thriving jasmine vine whose sole desire was to spread it's branches onto anything and everything it could reach. I bought a wooden trellis to give it some healthy direction instead of growing into high traffic areas on the back deck and getting torn or smashed, but it seemed like I had to re-position it back onto the trellis every morning because overnight it would get out of shape again.

We are exactly like that jasmine. Situations, irritations, people and hormones bend us out of shape and we lash out with purely emotional voltage. We wrap ourselves around unhealthy objects or follow unsafe patterns fed by our emotions that harm the people around us and ourselves, not to mention we sadden the heart of our Father God. Re-shaping our attitudes and feelings in accordance with God's Word (our solid trellis) is the only comfort and hope for the emotional soul.

SO ... the first point is to know what the Word says about how we are to feel; we are to be "increasing in the knowledge of God." Here are a few samples to refute or reaffirm disparate emotions.

• When feeling anxious, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything with prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” Philippians 4:6


• When feeling afraid, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in You.” Psalms 56:3


• When feeling uncertain, “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.” James 1:5


• When feeling depressed, “From the end of the earth I call to You when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I, for You have been my refuge.” Psalms 61:2-3


• When feeling alone, “For He has said, “I will never leave you or forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5


• When feeling stressed, “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28


• When feeling unloved, “But God demonstrates His own love towards us in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

Secondly, don't be afraid to ask God for grace in times of need. Hebrews 4:15-16 assures us, "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Unlike ourselves, God's emotions are holy and stable -- so we are never going to catch Him in a "bad moment." He is sympathetic and merciful to the asking, needy heart. In my worst moments of emotional caos, one of the greatest aids is to stop, even if it is for a moment, and humbly ask God for grace. Taking a moment to assess the damage, define the cause, repent of failings, and welcome grace is the remedy for those crazy up and down emotions that we all expereince. And while we're at it, a good cup of camomile tea is defnitely a saving grace.

traveling stories

This morning I am waking up in a dimly lit hotel room (due to a spur of the moment family trip) where I am enjoying the freedom of this moment. My electric tea kettle just clicked off (folks, never leave your tea kettle behind) and now the pleasant and familiar aroma of black tea fills my little corner of the room. Pulling back the curtains allows the sunshine to breathe through the window and awakes my slumbering siblings. Good morning.

Traveling is always reflective for me. It influences me see in the third person, as if I am the narrator of a traveling story. It's a good chance to simply observe the surroundings without actually engaging in them, to watch people without having to know or fix every detail of their lives (as if that is possible).

But coming and going can also leave a person disconnected. And strangely I believe that is what most people feel even living in their own stories. We are just fraying humans searching for a common thread to connect us to something valuable and important. This is the tapestry of the world. If one could find the missing seam maybe our stories would make sense.

"The people who were sitting in darkness saw a great Light, and those who were sitting in the land and the shadow of death, upon them a Light dawned." (Matt. 4:16) "In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. There was the true Light which coming into the world, enlightens every man." (John 1:4-5, 9)

Only in His story do our stories make sense.

Stamped With Crimson Love

I wrote this poem in a hotel room a few hours after my grandmother's funeral. The words had been ringing in my ears all evening. I am so thankful for hope even in grief. Redemption is a tender comfort in death's pain.

darkened room
somber mood
lifeless face
casket closed

weeping eyes
tender hugs
heads are down
memories pulse

I look around this room of death
to see the smoldering flame of life
exterminated--
faces composed of reserve
repress the flood of emotion
waiting to surge

innocent eyes meet the truth:
death is closer than we feared
life is passing like a storm
as a sunset or the dawn
the light changes colors--

we are left alone in the dark
existence leaves a painful mark

human fate is sealed
gravity presses against our dreams
time we have or have not
brings strange focus

if life is short, where is the sweet?

hearts burn for hope
for purpose
for passion

hope is springing amidst the cold reality
from a source few think true--
but it throbs within every soul
like footsteps walking a lantern
into each dark chamber of your mind
searching for a wick to ignite

purpose is found in a simple story
painting dusty roads, thirsty people, a crucifixion
blood spills from a perfect mind
shame is draped upon a sinless form
and in a murder true life is found

passion seizes those who trust
in this man upon the cross
a small spark in a dying field
quickly unfurls and consumes it all

at last, we are found

the casket can be lowered
and covered beneath
but hope cannot be contained
it must be released

darkness has no choice but to flee
in the presence of a light
on the alter of a soul
redeemed and rescued by Jesus Christ

no fear can settle
no pain can desecrate
a life immortal and everlasting
stamped with crimson love

Stay Close

Far back as I can remember I have loved Psalms 73, especially the ending:

Whom have I in heaven but You?
And besides You, I desire nothing on earth.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
For, behold, those who are far from You will perish;
You have destroyed all those who are unfaithful to You.
But as for me, the nearness of God is my good;
I have made the Lord GOD my refuge,
That I may tell of all Your works.

Throughout the seasons of life, I find myself returning and feeding on the beautiful truths and comfort found here. Because honestly, at all times, I desire God's nearness above all. This psalm presents such an honesty about my frailty: my flesh and my heart fail me. They are unfaithful to trust in. And stability I seek can't settle upon either of these.

But Jesus -- sweet Jesus -- is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. He is a rock that is higher than I. He is the exact amount I need every day. When I lack courage and my knees shake under the fear, Christ infuses a perfect timely strength which enables me to keep walking in faith. When I struggle with desires for more, for seasons in the future, for what I don't have, Jesus is my portion. He is and gives exactly what I need for every moment. My cup is always full.

When I wander from His presence I dreadfully perish. My nurishement and hope is misplaced onto objects weak and vain, and I feel their deficientcy in my core. My good is found only in the Lord's nearness. He is my refuge and desire. My greatest need and purpose is to stay close to Jesus... for my joy is found in Him.

UPDATE:

This morning brought the news of my grandmother's death from cancer. I humbly ask for your prayers for my family and myself as we travel to participate in the funeral. Considering what I wrote in this post last night reminds me of the strength and portion He daily gives. His nearness is my greatest comfort.

Thank you for your prayers and comments! It means so much to know you are praying.

time to bloom

I am in one of those moods in which I have much to say -- but I can't get it out in a logical way. Anyone ever have those moments? I have begun about five or six blog posts all encompassing different subjects, but after reading over them . . . let's just say I want to spare you a few rabbit trails. I am attempting to make this post stick.

Today was a gorgeous day. I took a short walk outside just to observe the budding glory of springtime. Color is softly transforming the muted landscapes around me. Tiny delicate buds pop out of the ends of limbs and plants and spread tones of interest to our world. It's beautiful. It's a metaphor for so many subjects.

You may have heard the slogan "bloom where you're planted." I think many people might overlook the bravery and vulnerability it takes to "bloom." Think about it. Winter has snuffed any possible growth with it's frigid, unforgiving control for the past few months. Suddenly the world becomes warm again -- but who knows if it will last. The decision to bloom is dangerous. One delayed frost could stab tender life. Yet . . .

I see blooms.

There is a simple beauty -- a reckless trust -- about springtime. Nature believes that life is here to stay. Winter is over. Time has come to heal and grow. I understand that many of our lives are in this same season. Winter has been cruel. Perhaps we are afraid to ever grow again -- what if we are nipped in the bud?

Fear is our winter . . . yet it is time to trust Jesus enough to bloom in hope and faith. "Perfect love casts out fear..." (1 John 4:18) When the love of Christ has been perfected in us -- when it has mastered us -- our fear impishly sits down and courage rises. It's the beauty of abiding in the Vine.

Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in Me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.  (John 15:4-5)

I don't know exactly what you may be facing or what pains winter has inflicted, but I do know that settling in the shadows is not the answer. Loving Jesus is about trusting Jesus; having His love season and infuse truth, joy, and strength in us. We can break forth and bear fruit because Jesus is completing the work He began in us.

Springtime is here. Time to bloom.

Can I Trust God?

Have you ever asked yourself, "Why should I trust God?"

Trust is a delicate issue. No one can simply "produce" trust just because we are commanded to. Trust comes as a result of knowing, believing, and resting in the character or stability of something or someone. This directly relates to trusting in the Lord as well. We can't trust God if we don't know God.

In my quiet times, I have been meditating a lot on Psalms 37, especially verse 3. It says, "Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness." Cultivate faithfulness can also read feed on His faithfulness. Can understanding God's faithfulness relate to our trusting in Him? I believe so.

In Lamentations 3:21-25 it says, "This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope. The LORD'S loving-kindnesses indeed never cease, For His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness. "The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "Therefore I have hope in Him." The LORD is good to those who wait for Him, to the person who seeks Him."

After I dissected those verses a little bit, I made a list of God's character traits explained in these verses that effect and even produce trust in God. Here is what I came up with:

• His loving-kindness never ceases.


• His compassion never fails.


• His faithfulness is great.


• He is my portion.


• He is my hope.


• He is good to those who wait for Him.


• He is good to those who seek Him.

This small list contains huge, life-altering truths that are pertinent to my trusting in the Lord. I can trust Him because His compassion never runs out. I can trust Him because He is my hope in terrifying times. I can trust Him because He is good to those who wait for Him and seek Him. His faithfulness to me is GREAT. His faithfulness reaches to the skies (Ps. 36:5). My heart can rest securely in His character and His promises.

So, can I trust God? ... yes. A thousand times, yes.

complete trust

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths." Proverbs 3:5-6

How many times have I heard that verse? 50 times? 100? And yet, how often do I obey it? I can tell you, those numbers are much smaller. Trust is something I am striving to apply in my life right now. There are so many things I am hoping for... waiting for... and I am trusting God to bring what needs to be brought and hold back what needs to wait. Leaning on my own understanding is such a temptation for me. My view is only a partial outlook -- but I still attempt to make decisions based only on what I can see. God sees all things. He is wise and all-knowing. But my stubborn heart loves to lean on my limited vision of life instead of His.

Why? Because I trust in me instead of Him.

Trust involves two things: letting go and holding on. And those are not conflicting. Right now in my life, I am having to let go of what I can't control and release the future, my heart, and my desires into God's hands. But I also hold onto Him. Even tighter.

Trusting in myself is never a good idea.

Thus says the Lord: "Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart turns away from the Lord. He is like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see any good come. He shall dwell in the parched places of the wilderness, in an uninhabited salt land. Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord. He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit.” (Jeremiah 17:5-8)

My flesh is not my strength, yet I rely on it all too often. I want to be like the tree planted by the waters, a woman who has complete trust in her God. Who releases what I cannot control or understand, and clings securely to God, who is worthy of trust.

"Commit your way to Him, trust also in Him, and He will do it." (Ps. 37:5)

the beauty of abiding

It is an unusual feeling to realize I can do nothing.

Let that soak in. I am making you wait for the next phrase. Yes, the verse continues, "I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing." (John 15:5) But I don't really believe that most of the time, or at lease I don't live like it. If I was a branch (that is a funny phrase...), I would be climbing up the trellis of life, typically unaware that my sustenance and vitality comes from the Vine I am implanted in. If I am growing, it inevitably means that I am connected to the Vine.

Still further, if I am not growing -- there is only one possible conclusion. I have ceased to abide in the Vine. And there I am, fruitless and able to do nothing apart from the Source of my life.

When I think about the word "abide," I often picture something like a glove or umbrella. The word creates for me a vision of envelopment and enclosure. When you slide a glove onto your hand, the glove moves with your gestures; it is conformed to the image and mission of your hand. Also with an umbrella, if located directly under it's wings, you are protected from the dangerous and troubled weather. In both cases, the enveloped and protected are "abiding" in their individual ways.

I want my life to represent both. I want to attain an absolute closeness to the Father's hands, making His missions mine, and His movements my own. I also desire to dwell securely under His protection, to fully rest under His sovereignty and faithful grace. Just as every branch is deeply embedded into the main vine, I want my life to wrap around--to center on--Jesus. And for me, the first step towards authentic abiding is recognizing my total insignificance without Him. I can do absolutely nothing without Him. Honestly.

When I look into the face of an infant, I see in their eyes what I desire. They are recklessly dependent upon a source other than themselves, but yet (most of the time) they are peacefully content and trusting. They sleep in the arms of their parents. They smile naturally at their providers. They rest and abide in the faithful provision and care of their guardian.

How much more should I abide in the arms of my Lord? He is actually beyond comparision to earthly parents. His ways are perfect and everlasting. And He invites us to abide in His love (John 15:9). Finding solace and strength in the only True Vine allows me to live fruitfully and to thrive amidst life. The connection is sure. And my heart rejoices in the closeness of Christ. "As for me, the nearness of God is my good..." (Ps. 73:28)

A Centerpiece

I did something unusual the other day. I wrote in the first space of this week in my day planner "time with God."

You might assume me to be very devout and spiritual, but actually -- when I got to thinking about it later, I am quite foolish. The fact that I must "pencil" God into my day reveals something in me that contrasts holiness, maybe even borders heathenism. What I thought was godly prioritizing was in fact placing God in a time slot.

I try to be careful and keep God at the top of my priorities. You know, "seek first the kingdom of God." But I never realized that squeezing Him into an upper compartment of my life was actually degrading His value and encompassing worth. Knowing and honoring Jesus doesn't simply involve bumping Him up to the top of my "to-do" list. What does He want? Where does He belong in my life?

He must be at the center.

Throughout my day, as I am busy following my schedule, working on activities, interacting with people, and completing assignments ... all this should revolve around Him, instead of "start out" with Him. If I take Him into every activity, every relationship, and every circumstance He will saturate me and those around me, enabling me to walk by faith and love others unconditionally and support those who are weak. I need Him in every moment, not just the morning slot of my day. His presence should permeate life.

Charlie Hall sings a song called Center that proclaims this chorus:

Christ be the center of our lives
Be the place we fix our eyes
Be the center of our lives
We lift our eyes to heaven
We wrap our lives around your life
We lift our eyes to heaven, to You

It is my fervent desire that my life is wrapped around His life -- instead of the other way around. God must become the centerpiece of my heart and the place I fix my eyes. I want "to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God," (Eph. 3:19) and to carry that fullness into every day.

Giver of Wisdom

For the Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.—If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.—For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.—But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise . . . so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.

The unfolding of your words gives light; it imparts understanding to the simple.—I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you.

And all spoke well of him and marveled at the gracious words that were coming from his mouth.—“No one ever spoke like this man!”—He is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, whom God made our wisdom and our righteousness and sanctification and redemption.

Prov. 2:6; Prov. 3:5; Jas. 1:5; 1 Cor. 1:25; 1 Cor. 1:27, 29; Ps. 119:130; Ps. 119:11; Luke 4:22; John 7:46; 1 Cor. 1:30 (Read full verses...)

This was my Daily Light this morning. I found it to be a great comfort and a reminder of where true wisdom is found. Hope it is a blessing to you as well.

Off-White Comparision

While unloading the dishwasher the other day, I wiped dry one of my favorite tea mugs and prepared to place it in the cabinet. I noticed behind the rows of coffee mugs, deep in the shadows of the cabinet, the glimpse of a familiar mug I had been looking for. Reaching far back into the dark space, I pulled out the lost cup. Pleased at my findings, I sat my two mugs side by side on the self as to not forget to use them both. Only then did I notice an obvious difference between them. Designed to be identical, one of the elegant white cups now looked altered. The mug I had retrieved from the dishwasher was slightly darker than the recently rescued one.

I quickly concluded that my daily black tea had quietly stained my frequented cup. I hadn't noticed the difference until I compared it with the originally intended color. "Funny how things can change without me noticing," I thought to myself. I shrugged off the matter and went on to unload the rest of the dishwasher.

It wasn't until a little later that God used the incident to remind me of a principle He had been teaching me. Someone I know had recently brought up the question, "Why do we need to study God's Word?" I thought it to be an absurd question. We are Christians ... reading the Bible is what we do. But that is no answer for a skeptic, or a Christian. Studying God's Word is like holding up the perfect, unstained coffee mug to the one we use every day. Do they compare? Are they the same color? Where and how are we stained?

God's Word is the standard, not the environment around us. Oftentimes I pardon myself by comparing my character, responses, and worldview with the people around me. "Oh, I am not as bad as them..." kind of stuff. This is why we must daily be confronted with the Word. It flatters nothing. It holds the truth about how we are to live and grow. And it shows us where we are getting stained.

Like my tea mug, becoming stained happens quietly. Every morning the color of my mug grew darker in it's complexion, but ever so slightly. If not for the rediscovery of the unsoiled mug, I wouldn't have known anything was different about my cup, or that it needed a better scrubbing. The Bible is the same way. It shows us the perfect standard. Paul compared it to "looking in a mirror," it reveals the true person.

But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing. (James 1:22-25)

Now on to the "doing" ...  and the scrubbing.

A Song of Faithfulness

While writing the previous post about remaining faithful to God over our feelings, this song kept resurfacing in my mind. I have to share it with you all. Brooke Fraser is the one who wrote and sings this beautiful masterpiece of a song... I love her music and lyrical quality. I will post the lyrics below as well as a video containing the song so you can listen while you read. I have held this song closely through many nights of weeping after God's presence. I hope you enjoy it just as much.

Faithful

There's distance in the air and I cannot make it leave
I wave my arms round about me and blow with all my might
I cannot sense You close, though I know You're always here
But the comfort of You near is what I long for

[CHORUS]
When I can't feel You, I have learned to reach out just the same
When I can't hear You, I know You still hear every word I pray
And I want You more than I want to live another day
And as I wait for You maybe I'm made more faithful

All the folly of the past, though I know it is undone
I still feel the guilty one, still trying to make it right
So I whisper soft Your name, let it roll around my tongue,
knowing You're the only One who knows me
You know me

[CHORUS]

[BRIDGE]
Show me how I should live this
Show me where I should walk
I count this world as loss to me
You are all I want
You are all I want

Gratefully Overwhelmed

Today was one of those days in which God totally overwhelmed me with His goodness... these days happen to me every once in a while. I wish it would happen more, but I treasure them while they last. Moment by moment God has restored my soul with an encouraging word, a gem of truth, and the fellowship of believers. And I am gratefully overwhelmed... God is good.

Without realizing it, my soul was in need of restoration and food. God has abundantly supplied what my heart needed. Again, He is good. Oh He is good.

Tonight I walked outside and peered into the clear sky with the half moon glowing above. I found a place on the grassy lawn and rested my head back to behold the scope of a starry night in all it's glory. God is near. I feel Him. He cares. Really. Such simple truths, but when I really believe them it transforms me deep inside, bringing peace and hope I sometimes ignore. God is good. Yes He is.

Looking up into His heavens, I realize how small I am. But this little life I have, it is all His. I surrender it to Jesus with only the simple cry: make me like You, and please use me for Your glory. If heavens can smile, I saw it tonight. My glorious Father is pulling His children closer, close enough to hear His heartbeat and walk in obedience to it's rhythm. Oh my Jesus is good. So so good...

"For the Lord is good; His steadfast love endures forever, and His faithfulness to all generations." Psalms 100:5