Take off your make-up and come.

I like when thoughts come to me in the most random of places...like in the bathroom of my hotel room at IndyCC (Cru's annual Winter Conference in downtown Indianapolis!).

I realized this. To go meet someone, you touch-up your make-up. To come before God, you have to take off your makeup.

It's funny, because in the morning, you look at your face (if you are of the female type), and think disgusted thoughts. You can't possibly be seen like this. You cake on whatever you can to make yourself presentable to the world.

But by the time you've made it through a day, it's the best feeling to be exposed. To take off the mask and be real. To let your pores breathe again.

And God doesn't want the beautified version of yourself that you put on for everyone else. He doesn't wanted the smoothed-out, concealed, covered-up you. He wants the bumpy, uneven, oily, zit-faced you. Not the perfect, has-it-all-together, rule-following, well one. The conceited, prideful, stubborn, sick one.

I find great rest in that thought. Not that it is always easy. Sometimes I'd rather keep my make-up on for Him. But He already knows what's beneath. He knows all of my blemishes better than I do. But He wants me as I am. And He has a better kind of make-up, a real solution: the precious blood of Jesus.

Lately, I've felt more challenged to be super real with people around me. So, hello world...here I am.

I'm kind of disgusted with myself today. Actually, really disgusted. This week, I have been super apathetic. Super irritable. Super lazy. Super selfish. Super egotistical. Except for the few short times I've purposely sought out God, I've been seeking out me. What do people think of ME? What's great about ME? My thoughts. My attitude. My heart. They're all rotten. Yeah, I've gotten to have some good conversations and enjoy my friends. But when I'm all about me, even those things aren't as great. My friend Steve says 'the good life begins the day its not about you.' Welp, I've definitely proved the inverse. (It's definitely not the first time.) The lame life begins the day its all about you.

But here's something absolutely crazy. While I was driving home from campus, I turned on the radio and heard this song by Phil Wickham...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBDLAZFLfIM. First of all, I love this song. Second, I never hear it on the radio. Third, WHY would God pursue me when I am completely indifferent, self-absorbed, unloveable?

I don't understand. Sometimes I don't care to, at all. But it's there, nonetheless. This love. This divine romance. This fierce devotion.

I'm the whore in the book of Hosea. I'm the rebellious child mentioned in Isaiah. I'm the prodigal son. And He loves me.

And I want to respond. I want to live alive to Him. Which means my old self has to die. And with what I've seen of 'me' lately, I'm okay with that.




Food for thought: http://www.marshillchurch.org/media/its-all-about-jesus/its-all-about-jesus-humility

T-shirts, turkey, and thankfulness

Well folks, I took the GRE this morning, tidied up things at the apartment, loaded the car, and made the long trek home. (that's a joke.) The pumpkin pies are in the oven and later tonight the tree goes up! Let the festivities begin.

As I was doing my laundry, I couldn't help laughing to myself with each t-shirt I folded. It seems like every one brings back memories of someone, some place in time, a story...whether it was going to Athens for OU Honors Choir, saying our goodbyes before starting college and swapping shirts, moving freshmen in at BG, silly BGeX things, summer project in India, my beloved Iowa State Cyclones and growing up in Ames, high school orchestra, the Mucky Duck restaurant on the beach of Captiva Island, or even MAZE last week...and I'm amazed at how all of these things, whether seemingly "significant" or not, have been woven together into a story. And even more, they've been woven into God's Grand Story.

I am thankful for the laughter and memories, but I'm more thankful for redemption and grace. I'm thankful for the people God has brought into my life, and His relentless love through all of life's crazy twists and turns. I'm thankful that He hasn't stopped pursuing me in spite of my heart that's so "prone to wander." I'm thankful for the deserts that made me crave Him more than ever. I'm thankful that I get to wake up every morning and whisper His name.

I'm thankful for the pumpkin pies that I just took out of the oven, for the people that will fill our house tomorrow, the turkey that will be roasted, for Christmas music and the celebration of the Word who became flesh, and I'm thankful for my family who has given me more grace than anyone, besides Christ. I'm thankful for you, my dear friend, and this life we get to live together. I'm thankful for words and stories and the beauty they hold.

I pray this thanksgiving is one of remembering. I hope you get to press 'pause' and celebrate where God has brought you. And if you're in a dry place, I pray you are able to take a step of faith and praise Him anyhow.

I dare you to look through your tshirt drawer and remember His grace.

Happy Thanksgiving, friends.

Today I am...

hopeful joy-filled expectant thankful free determined blessed secure in love.

Musings.

-I have the best friends ever. Seriously, who gets up at 6am to drive you to the airport? Grace and Morgan. And who makes you a sign when you get home? Dreya.

-Airports are wonderful microcosms of life. Theoretically, you could get on a plane to Ouagadogou...or Mumbai...or Des Moines...or Detroit...and each place is full of new adventures to be had, people to be met, sunsets to watch...yadayada. It's like a choose-your-own-adventure novel.

-Speaking of which, my life is a series of ironies. Detours. Funnies. Basically, I say, God, I wanna do anything, just not ________. And where does he send me? The _____________. Ha. Ha. (and it usually ends up being pretty alright. Meaning amazing.)

-So, of course, I have no "security" for the next year. Which means God is going to blow me away once more. El-Shaddai. My all in all, sufficient, more than enough God. What a wonderful name.

-God's love never gets old. I've known His love in deep, passionate, personal ways. But lately, it's been more of a "sloppy wet kiss." Not in an irreverent way. But a little bit silly. Kind of outrageous. Rejoicing over me with LOUD singing. Looking into my eyes with this silly grin that I'm not sure how to respond to. Making my heart literally jump up and down like a small child in a candy store. (or college senior.) He loves. So well.

-My kids will have names from Chronicles. It sounds like a good idea on 3 hours of sleep anyway.

-Home from grandma and grandpa's...time to hit the elliptical. Funny how in their mind, you will always have the metabolism of an 8-year-old.

-I was skimming a sweet article on migration in National Geographic (If you haven't figured out that I'm a little bit of a nerd, well, there you have it.) and I was hit by this: one characteristic of migration is undistractability, this "fervid attentiveness to the greater mission." While an animal is migrating, stimuli that would usually be a distraction just aren't. Eating and resting aren't important. The destination is.

I hope my life looks like that. Marked by that same undistractability as I journey towards a "better country." A homeland. A heavenly one.

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.