Something so beautiful.

Don’t know how it is You looked at me
And saw the person that I could be
Awakening my heart
Breaking through the dark
Suddenly Your grace

Like sunlight burning at midnight
Making my life something so
Beautiful, beautiful
Mercy reaching to save me
All that I need
You are so
Beautiful, beautiful

Now there’s a joy inside I can’t contain
But even perfect days can end in rain
And though it’s pouring down
I see You through the clouds
Shining on my face

I have come undone
But I have just begun
Changing by Your grace

The horizon.

This summer, I learned that when you're feeling seasick, you look at the horizon. It restores your body's internal sense of balance and center of gravity.

The ocean is rarely quiet. It's currents trying to pull you this way and that, waves, wind, and storms. You can't just jump out of the boat when you start to feel queasy. So what are you going to do? You have no other option but to find the horizon and glue your eyes to it. Why? It's the only thing that's fixed. It's the only guarantee you have. It doesn't change the fact that you're in the middle of a storm, but it changes you.

Such is life. We're all navigating this vast ocean in our little fishing boats, often with no land in sight. The storms are inevitable; the wind and waves are all too familiar. Yet, there is a horizon, and yes, I'm going to say that Jesus is the horizon. But it goes beyond that. Jesus wants to restore our souls' balance. This world has turned everything upside down. We all struggle to find any center of gravity, anything that will steady us through the storm. And He offers to be that anchor for the soul. He who who can tell the storms outside and the storms within us, "Peace, be still." He may or may not change the fact that we're in the middle of the storm, but He changes us.

I can't help but think that maybe the author of Hebrews had the sea in mind when He said, "let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of our faith..." To fix your eyes on something takes concentrated effort. We are so easily distracted; no wonder we get seasick so easily. I feel it now, even as I write this. My heart wants to push away from God, the only Horizon I have in this life. But where else can I turn? I have found nothing else.

May God give us the grace to fix our eyes on Himself.

Beauty rests.

And I don't. Not well, anyway. Inspired and challenged by my lovely friends Ame and Lauren, I am choosing to rest well. Lately, I have found that my sabbaths have been un-restful. Instead of feeling refreshed, I get to Sunday evening and feel this sort of impending doom that is the upcoming week. And, partly because of my earlier misunderstanding of the sabbath, I feel guilty if I didn't spend the sabbath praying or reading scripture. Yet, I have been reminded that God created the sabbath FOR us, and that he wants to pour life back into us through it. Lauren challenged me to make a list of things that bring me life and just do those things, instead of worrying about how I "should" be spending my sabbath.

So here's my short list:
-blowing bubbles
-biking
-baking
-playing guitar
-reading
-being still
-writing...a letter, a song, thoughts, prayers, dreams...
-sunsets and clouds
-painting
-just 'being' with a friend
-driving
-Pride and Prejudice
-jumping on the bed
-listening to a symphony

And I've decided I want to make a specific discipline of the last one. I'm a music major, yes, but for most of my musical life I have failed to really experience music (hmm...sounds a lot like my spiritual life.) So, every weekend from here on out, I want to listen to an entire symphony...not as background music. I want to drink it in, be overwhelmed by it, process it...and experience God. and maybe I'll record my thoughts here. Yes.

Even resting is an act of faith for me. It takes trust to believe that God will do whatever He needs to do without me and that I can accomplish all I need to do in the other six days. But it's not a blind leap by any means; it's a leap into grace: grace that God provides a day for my soul to be restored, and grace to relinquish control over life.

Grace.

The sabbath is grace. I can do this. Or just...let Him.

'Peace, child; you don't understand.'

“The terrible thing is that a perfectly good God is in this matter hardly less formidable than a Cosmic Sadist. The more we believe that God hurts only to heal, the less we can believe that there is any use in begging for tenderness. A cruel man might be bribed – might grow tired of his vile sport – might have a temporary fit of mercy, as alcoholics have fits of sobriety. But suppose that what you are up against is a surgeon whose intentions are wholly good. The kinder and more conscientious he is, the more inexorably he will go on cutting. If he yielded to your entreaties, if he stopped before the operation was complete, all the pain up to that point would have been useless. But is it credible that such extremities of torture should be necessary for us? Well, take your choice. The tortures occur. If they are unnecessary, then there is no God or a bad one. If there is a good God, then these tortures are necessary. For no even moderately good Being could possibly inflict or permit them if they weren’t. Either way, we’re for it.” -CS Lewis, A Grief Observed

After watching Shadowlands this summer, I became more curious about Lewis' personal journey of falling in love, watching his wife battle cancer, losing her, and finally, grieving her. There's something refreshing about the fact that such a strong apologist for the Christian faith comes to a place such as this and questions all that he knows to be true. This short work was originally penned under a pseudonym, and is the most brutally honest writing of Lewis, filled with anger, doubts, fear, and yet surrender to an all-knowing Father and Good King. I've been wrestling with a lot of the same questions lately. And no answer is ever satisfactory. But even in the midst of his grief, Lewis provides a beautiful view of God's Father heart.

"When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of 'No answer.' It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, 'Peace, child; you don't understand'"

Light, Knowledge, Glory

The Hebrews searched for light.
The Greeks sought knowledge.
The Romans craved glory.

And then Paul comes along and writes to the Corinthians,
"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." (II Corinthians 4:6)

a little tidbit from Ravi Zacharias :)

I'm over this.

I'm about to make an honest confession. Not that I'm not usually honest. But anyway, here goes.

I'm tired of being an activist.

I'm not tired of hearing the stories of countless men and women oppressed daily.

I'm not tired of being heartbroken over the sadness that surrounds me.

I'm not tired of striving to do more.

I'm just over social justice as a means to feel good about ourselves.

I don't want to be about a cause.

I don't want to be about creating a ruckus.

People need to know about other people. People should love other people.

I want to be about people.

I want to be about love.

But I can't make love happen for anyone else.

I believe love is poured out when we give of ourselves, without getting a bracelet or trendy tee in return.

I believe love is poured out when we cry out to God on behalf of the oppressed.

I believe love is poured out when we choose to die to ourselves.

I believe true love comes from God.

I don't believe that mere awareness and activism bring about change.

Change happens one person at a time.

One person being healed.

And that person choosing to live beyond himself.

This is the gift of life Jesus offers. Real life.

I wanna give life.

Friends, I'm not sure what else to say. I will fight for justice, because it's who I am and its the calling I've been given. I just want to be in the heat of the battle NOW.

And maybe now, that's doing little things. And believing that Jesus is the solution to a dying world. That whoever we are, by allowing ourselves to be transformed from the inside out...we are doing an act of social justice (thanks, Don Miller). We are turning this world right side up again.

I have made it through life unscathed. I don't know why. I wonder if it's fair. It's not. I can't bare the thought of things that have been done to people all around me. You, my dear friends, have born the weight of the world.

I have not experienced the death of someone near to me.

I have not been abused or neglected.

I have not experienced pain that led me to consider taking my own life.

I have not been forced into doing anything against my will.

I have not been lied to, cheated, or betrayed.

Yet, none of us is exempt from the fall. I have experienced my share of sadness and wrestled with myself and the world around me. I have been let down. I have felt belittled and uncared for. I have felt alone and desperate for love. I am still a woman in need of redemption.

But I wonder, do I have what it takes to be part of the solution? Can I bring healing to a world of people that burn with pain I have never felt?

I don't have what it takes. I can't carry the weight of the world. But Someone else already did. And it's His life I have to offer, not mine.

To all of you who share your stories, thank you. And I pray that we can find healing together.