give it up for some small town pride! yep, that's where i come from!
Monday, March 28, 2011
The Sea Lion Who Lost the Sea
He lived in a country known as the barren lands. High on a plateau, far from any coast, it was a place so dry and dusty that it could only be called a desert. A kind of coarse grass grew in patches here and there, and a few trees were scattered across the horizon. But mostly it was dust. And sometimes wind, which together make one very thirsty. Of course, it must seem strange to you that such a beautiful creature should wind up in a desert at all. He was, mind you, a sea lion. But things like this do happen.
How the sea lion came to the barren lands no one could remember. It all seemed so very long ago. So long, in fact, it appeared that he had always been there. Not that he belonged in such a place. How could that be? He was, after all, a sea lion. But as you know, once you have lived so long in a certain spot, no matter how odd, you come to think of it as home.
There was a time, many years back, when the sea lion knew he was lost. In those days, he would stop every traveler he met to see if they might help him find his way back to the sea.
But no one seemed to know the way.
On he searched, but never finding. After years without success, the sea lion took refuge beneath a solitary tree beside a very small watering hole. The tree provided refuge from the burning rays of sun, which was fierce in that place. And the watering hole, though small and muddy, was wet, in its own way. Here he settled down and got on as best he could.
Had you journeyed in those days through the barren lands, you might have seen the sea lion yourself. Quite often in the evening, he would go and sit upon his favorite rock, a very large boulder, which lifted him off the burning sand and allowed him a view of the entire country.
There he would remain for hours in the night, silhouetted against the sky. And on the best nights, when the wind shifted to the east, a faint smell of salt air would come to him on the breeze. Then he would close his eyes and imagine himself once more at the sea. When he lay himself down to sleep, he would dream of a vast, deep ocean. Twisting and turning, diving and twirling, he would swim and swim and swim. When he woke, he thought he heard the sound of breakers.
The sea was calling to him.
The sea lion loved his rock, and he even loved waiting night after night for the sea breezes that might come. Especially he loved the dreams those memories would stir. But as you well know, even the best of dreams cannot go on, and in the morning when the sea lion woke, he was still in the barren lands. Sometimes he would close his eyes and try to fall back asleep. It never seemed to work, for the sun was always very bright.
Eventually it became too much for him to bear. He began to visit his rock only on occasion. "I have too much to do," he told himself. "I cannot waste my time just idling about." He really did not have much to do. The truth of it was, waking so far from home was such a disappointment, he did not want to have those wonderful dreams anymore. So the day finally came when he stopped going to his rock altogether, and he no longer lifter his nose to the wind when the seas breezes blew."
~ from John Eldridge's book Journey of Desire
I wept bitterly when I read this story and my heart cried in anguish at the pure truth of it.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Are You Kidding Me??
Warning: *your LDL/HDL levels might go up from just reading this!!
I was first introduced to this concept quite shockingly by a friend who seemed to find absolutely nothing wrong with eating this concoction. My fellow nurse and best friend and I were equally appalled by her explanation that it is in fact EXACTLY what its name implies!!
I predict a large influx in the bypass surgery department in the next 30 years! I may consider changing my specialty to cardiac nursing.
I was first introduced to this concept quite shockingly by a friend who seemed to find absolutely nothing wrong with eating this concoction. My fellow nurse and best friend and I were equally appalled by her explanation that it is in fact EXACTLY what its name implies!!
I predict a large influx in the bypass surgery department in the next 30 years! I may consider changing my specialty to cardiac nursing.
"I love our family!" -- Dash, The Incredibles
My parents greatly amuse me at times (but don't tell them I said that!).
-my dad, "Is there anything else you want on this list?" hands my mom the grocery list.
-my mom, glaces over the list then looks up, "Its four thirty... on a Friday... " gives him the have-you-lost-your-mind-you-are-thinking-of-going-now? look.
-my dad, shrugs, "Well, people are probably still out of town for the big 12 tournament!"
-me, offering my two cents, "Yeah, the boys lost yesterday, and the girls lost their game earlier today, which was only in KC, so everyone's probably back by now..."
-my dad, looks at my mom's still dubious face, gives her the ultra-super-manly look, and taps his biceps, "Don't worry, I'm tough!"
-me attempting, to help the situation, "Riiiiiight dad, cause REAL men go to Walmart at 4:30 on a Friday!" offer him the way-to-be-manly-(slightly-sarcastic) look.
-my dad, "Is there anything else you want on this list?" hands my mom the grocery list.
-my mom, glaces over the list then looks up, "Its four thirty... on a Friday... " gives him the have-you-lost-your-mind-you-are-thinking-of-going-now? look.
-my dad, shrugs, "Well, people are probably still out of town for the big 12 tournament!"
-me, offering my two cents, "Yeah, the boys lost yesterday, and the girls lost their game earlier today, which was only in KC, so everyone's probably back by now..."
-my dad, looks at my mom's still dubious face, gives her the ultra-super-manly look, and taps his biceps, "Don't worry, I'm tough!"
-me attempting, to help the situation, "Riiiiiight dad, cause REAL men go to Walmart at 4:30 on a Friday!" offer him the way-to-be-manly-(slightly-sarcastic) look.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Inspiring Women in My Life
The first woman that I can remember looking up to was my mom. From a very young age I wanted to be her. She was so smart on most things. Her organization and planning skills were (and continue to be) off the chart. And while there were definitely times when I was not very appreciative of her, there has never been a time when I could deny that she went above and beyond every day for her family, (usually without our appreciation). I could never hope to be as good of a mother as she is every day.
The second was my older sister Jenny. Jenny and I have had a strange relationship over the years. I had to wear all her hand-me-down clothes (NOT my style!), but filling in her footsteps was just as scary. Jenny always had this attitude that was soooo obedient to my parents which made me feel like the bad rebellious child. When she's mad, she's quiet, while I get explosive. She actually enjoyed memorizing scripture, while I did my bible subject for school kicking and screaming, or cheated and didn't do it at all! She could do public speech tournaments and smile in the spotlight while I go 4 shades of white, shake, talk really fast, and can't think to save my life. She could sing and led worship with my dad at a really young age, while I hid in the back of the choir and lip-sank the notes I couldn't hit. And she could draw. And not just draw, she can draw so that you would swear it was a photo rendering. My drawings look like Picasso next to hers. The few things she couldn't do (and trust me there were few!) I felt the need to rather mercilessly make fun of her about just so I could be sort of even. Secretly though, I have wished I could be more like her.
The third was a girl I knew in high school named Emily. She was always so meek and graceful and beautiful in everything that she did. And I think for the most part it wasn't just a front. She really does have a beautiful Christ-like character underneath. I remember when we played volleyball together and she was the only person on our team all year who got a yellow card. The rest of the team really wanted to pummel the ref in the parking-lot after the game. She was just the last person on our team that would ever have deserved that. But even then she was sweet and accepting of it, even calming the rest of us down. I have always wished I could be more like Emily.
The fourth place probably goes to women from history. I remember reading biographies of Amy Carmichael, Gladys Aylward, Mother Teresa, and Elizabeth Elliot and thinking "Wow! God, can I grow up to be like that?" Especially Amy Carmichael, because I felt like she was a real Christian. She had a temper like me, and did stupid things (like me), and went on adventures (like i wanted to), and God still chose to use her to rescue all these orphans from the devil himself!
The fifth woman I have been inspired by was my lovely roommate Jenna. To this day I don't think she knows how many times she spurred me on by her own seeking after God. Through her I think I began to grasp a lot of the importance of hard-core prayer. And yet, I felt like she was a real Christian in that we could be silly together and discuss stupid things with that underlying understanding that God was at the center of it all.
The sixth woman I have been inspired by is ironically someone that I hated for a great portion of my younger life; my little sister Janalee. I can't tell you how much it pains my heart of older sister pride to say this but she is one of the biggest examples to me of someone who genuinely is committed to the cause of Christ. She has these amazing skills in just talking with people. And encouraging, its like a second language with her. On a regular basis she seeks out ways to go out of her way to say something fun to someone. I think I just forget half the time to be so extroverted.
More recently the seventh woman has been my dearest friend Chantelle. The better I get to know her, the more I am blown away by the things she has overcome in her life. The way that she goes on smiles through the pain. I love growing in Christ with her; she inspires me to some new level of strength.
There are several other people that I can see are already going to be the next people on my list. I intend to keep it growing, as each and every person I come in contact with I think has something to teach me (however inadvertently).
My question to you is this: Who are the people in your life that have spurred you on to love and good works? How have the influenced your journey heavenward? Do they know it?
The second was my older sister Jenny. Jenny and I have had a strange relationship over the years. I had to wear all her hand-me-down clothes (NOT my style!), but filling in her footsteps was just as scary. Jenny always had this attitude that was soooo obedient to my parents which made me feel like the bad rebellious child. When she's mad, she's quiet, while I get explosive. She actually enjoyed memorizing scripture, while I did my bible subject for school kicking and screaming, or cheated and didn't do it at all! She could do public speech tournaments and smile in the spotlight while I go 4 shades of white, shake, talk really fast, and can't think to save my life. She could sing and led worship with my dad at a really young age, while I hid in the back of the choir and lip-sank the notes I couldn't hit. And she could draw. And not just draw, she can draw so that you would swear it was a photo rendering. My drawings look like Picasso next to hers. The few things she couldn't do (and trust me there were few!) I felt the need to rather mercilessly make fun of her about just so I could be sort of even. Secretly though, I have wished I could be more like her.
The third was a girl I knew in high school named Emily. She was always so meek and graceful and beautiful in everything that she did. And I think for the most part it wasn't just a front. She really does have a beautiful Christ-like character underneath. I remember when we played volleyball together and she was the only person on our team all year who got a yellow card. The rest of the team really wanted to pummel the ref in the parking-lot after the game. She was just the last person on our team that would ever have deserved that. But even then she was sweet and accepting of it, even calming the rest of us down. I have always wished I could be more like Emily.
The fourth place probably goes to women from history. I remember reading biographies of Amy Carmichael, Gladys Aylward, Mother Teresa, and Elizabeth Elliot and thinking "Wow! God, can I grow up to be like that?" Especially Amy Carmichael, because I felt like she was a real Christian. She had a temper like me, and did stupid things (like me), and went on adventures (like i wanted to), and God still chose to use her to rescue all these orphans from the devil himself!
The fifth woman I have been inspired by was my lovely roommate Jenna. To this day I don't think she knows how many times she spurred me on by her own seeking after God. Through her I think I began to grasp a lot of the importance of hard-core prayer. And yet, I felt like she was a real Christian in that we could be silly together and discuss stupid things with that underlying understanding that God was at the center of it all.
The sixth woman I have been inspired by is ironically someone that I hated for a great portion of my younger life; my little sister Janalee. I can't tell you how much it pains my heart of older sister pride to say this but she is one of the biggest examples to me of someone who genuinely is committed to the cause of Christ. She has these amazing skills in just talking with people. And encouraging, its like a second language with her. On a regular basis she seeks out ways to go out of her way to say something fun to someone. I think I just forget half the time to be so extroverted.
More recently the seventh woman has been my dearest friend Chantelle. The better I get to know her, the more I am blown away by the things she has overcome in her life. The way that she goes on smiles through the pain. I love growing in Christ with her; she inspires me to some new level of strength.
There are several other people that I can see are already going to be the next people on my list. I intend to keep it growing, as each and every person I come in contact with I think has something to teach me (however inadvertently).
My question to you is this: Who are the people in your life that have spurred you on to love and good works? How have the influenced your journey heavenward? Do they know it?
Friday, March 4, 2011
The Drought
I'm sure you have all felt those times in your life where you live for that one small little drop of water coming from the faucet and ache wishing the spiritual rain would just drench you clear through.
That's kinda what I have been feeling. Growing up, we would go to visit my Grandma and Grandpa on their farm. One of the coolest things once we got old enough and strong enough was to help water flowers by cranking the old hand pump out back. Now if any of you have actually used an old fashioned hand pump more than just seeing a picture of one in 'Country' magazine, you know that to get one started is no small feat. You can stand there for what seems to a child like forever pumping and getting nothing to come up. Thats what I feel like. Like I am thrusting all of my childish power and putting my whole body behind thrusting that handle up and down, and yet getting nothing to gush forth. I get these small little drips of water from the end of the spigot. But its not enough to wet my lips let alone quench my thirst.
I suppose a thirst for God is a good thing. But I am inclined to view it as a very disappointing thing at this point in time. I feel like I have been trying and trying. Pumping with all of my naive little girl strength. Attempting to force something that should flow easily.
So the question now is how does the pump get primed? Or is this the primer and I just don't realize that my efforts are getting it there slowly and surely?
That's kinda what I have been feeling. Growing up, we would go to visit my Grandma and Grandpa on their farm. One of the coolest things once we got old enough and strong enough was to help water flowers by cranking the old hand pump out back. Now if any of you have actually used an old fashioned hand pump more than just seeing a picture of one in 'Country' magazine, you know that to get one started is no small feat. You can stand there for what seems to a child like forever pumping and getting nothing to come up. Thats what I feel like. Like I am thrusting all of my childish power and putting my whole body behind thrusting that handle up and down, and yet getting nothing to gush forth. I get these small little drips of water from the end of the spigot. But its not enough to wet my lips let alone quench my thirst.
I suppose a thirst for God is a good thing. But I am inclined to view it as a very disappointing thing at this point in time. I feel like I have been trying and trying. Pumping with all of my naive little girl strength. Attempting to force something that should flow easily.
So the question now is how does the pump get primed? Or is this the primer and I just don't realize that my efforts are getting it there slowly and surely?
He's Been:
I got accused of being an agnostic the other day. I can't even begin to tell you the depths of my despair!
To clarify: I am not now, nor have I ever been in doubt of the existence of God.
He has been the biggest constant in my life. When I have felt I could trust no other, I always knew I could trust Him. When my world has crumbled, when no one could know my secret pain, He has always been there. The few nights in my life where I didn't want to go on living and I felt I had no one to call, He's been the best friend that got me through the night. When my heart's been broken and ripped to shreds by would-be relationships, He's sewn it lovingly back into a crazy patchwork quilt. When my very dreams and successes have fallen flat, He's been the only thing that kept me laughing. When I've felt hideous and exposed to the world, He's given me the power of an ugly, shameful cross. When I've cried I've felt His hand around my shoulder. When I've laughed, He's been the color of the sunshine. When I've danced, He's been my only tune.
There is no one more powerful in my imagination. There is no one more lovely to me in my life. If He were the ocean I would be less than a plankton, and yet He loves me. If He were the world I would be a grain of fine sand and yet He cares for me like a priceless emerald. I can't earn Him, I can't deserve Him, I can't be perfect like Him. But His love reaches wider than east is from west, farther than north is from south, longer than time stretches in my finite mind at its best. Before I existed He loved me. Though I knew not myself, He could have called me by name. He's never forsaken me, never left me, never abandoned me, never left me empty, or cheated, or lonely, or scared. There has never been a moment in time where He has walked away because He couldn't handle me anymore. His wrath has been unspeakable, but His love has been unquestionable. His call irrevocable, His blessings irrefutable.
When I have been faithless, He has remained faithful. No, I have no doubts that my God is very, very real.
To clarify: I am not now, nor have I ever been in doubt of the existence of God.
He has been the biggest constant in my life. When I have felt I could trust no other, I always knew I could trust Him. When my world has crumbled, when no one could know my secret pain, He has always been there. The few nights in my life where I didn't want to go on living and I felt I had no one to call, He's been the best friend that got me through the night. When my heart's been broken and ripped to shreds by would-be relationships, He's sewn it lovingly back into a crazy patchwork quilt. When my very dreams and successes have fallen flat, He's been the only thing that kept me laughing. When I've felt hideous and exposed to the world, He's given me the power of an ugly, shameful cross. When I've cried I've felt His hand around my shoulder. When I've laughed, He's been the color of the sunshine. When I've danced, He's been my only tune.
There is no one more powerful in my imagination. There is no one more lovely to me in my life. If He were the ocean I would be less than a plankton, and yet He loves me. If He were the world I would be a grain of fine sand and yet He cares for me like a priceless emerald. I can't earn Him, I can't deserve Him, I can't be perfect like Him. But His love reaches wider than east is from west, farther than north is from south, longer than time stretches in my finite mind at its best. Before I existed He loved me. Though I knew not myself, He could have called me by name. He's never forsaken me, never left me, never abandoned me, never left me empty, or cheated, or lonely, or scared. There has never been a moment in time where He has walked away because He couldn't handle me anymore. His wrath has been unspeakable, but His love has been unquestionable. His call irrevocable, His blessings irrefutable.
When I have been faithless, He has remained faithful. No, I have no doubts that my God is very, very real.
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