More than socks and underwear...

When you ask my mom for some "good books" for Christmas, she'll hand you a catalog and tell you to circle examples. Then, on Christmas morning when you open your gifts, you will open boxes and boxes of books all by the same author of the one or two books you circled in the catalog. This year, I circled a book by Ravi Zacharias. Christmas morning, I got five.


I am, of course, grateful. There is a stack of other amazing books on my desk as I type. Simply Christian, Simple Church, (Quite fitting for this past series at the Stirring), also, Sex God, Jesus Wants to Save Christians, Kingdom of the Occult, Knowledge of the Holy, and Prayer (by Yancey)--these were my Christmas presents this year. These, and underwear and socks and Amazing Grace. Amazing Grace is a thought provoking movie about the story of William Wilberforce and his fight against the British slave trade, which sealed in my mind the thought that human trafficking can be fought. This is not a thought about bringing it all down single-handedly...but I don't think I should just sit by and accept it... I don't think we should just sit by and let it be the way it is now...


Christmas, Ravi, Amazing Grace...and a move against human trafficking. I'm excited to start the new year.

When you ask my mom for some "good books" for Christmas, you'll get A LOT of them... You'll get more than socks and underwear.

"Amy"

...my favorite one of the Dove videos.

pink sweater, razor scooter, and a scowl...

No... those aren't things I got for Christmas. But my family and I did get a scowl from the little girl in the pink sweater on a razor scooter yesterday... Because my aunt is bad at directions... and because we all have way too much fun together.

Janelle and I were trying to decide if it's more accurate to say "make a right" or "take a right" when telling someone directions... my aunt was telling my dad directions at the time, so we thought it was fairly relevant.

As my dad is making jokes--probably to counteract the frustration--and my mom and aunt are contradicting, supporting, and repeating both themselves and each other (it's what they do), my sister and I are in the back giggling at the fact that we are in a downtown Pomona neighborhood looking for a Joann's fabric store, which, according to my aunt's directions, has required us to make (or "take") five rights, two u-turns, and cruise around three culdesacs so far. We're asking, amidst all the commotion, what their opinion of our "make" or "take a turn" question is, and (bless their hearts) my mom and aunt take us seriously and try to answer...and try to keep giving directions...AND try to figure out who is going to get the first mixed cd that they've talked me into making them. My dad is still joking on the outside... pleading with Jesus on the inside i think...

And then, we see her... the little girl in the pink sweater on a razor scooter...scowling. She recognizes our car (five rights and a few u-ies get you back to very familiar places) and we have just circled our fourth culdesac in her neighborhood, passing by her lit, candy-cane arch-way for the third time. I didn't want to seem like a scaredy cat, so I kept my mouth shut about the vision that flashed before my eyes in that moment--Little girl rolls up her fuzzy pink sleeves, chucks her razor scooter through our car window, screaming at us to scram from her neck of the woods... I saw it all in that scowl. And I was scared.

Don't let pink sweaters deceive you... be careful whose culdesac you get lost in...

Thankfully, we found Joann's fabric store... half-hour later, not in a neighborhood...

And we made it alive--car windows in tact.

Immanuel

Immanuel..."God with us."

Yes. He truly is.

Merry Christmas!

Enjoy His presence...

(and His present. I know guys, that video confused me too...)

I didn't know. (Or I forgot.)

I didn't know that Christmas meant so much to me. I didn't know that God loved me so much. I didn't know that I loved God so much.

(Well... Maybe I knew... Maybe He's just helping me remember again...)

Yesterday, my younger sister's boyfriend came over. He's cool--I like him. He's got blond hair and blue eyes, so I asked him if he was Norwegian... but he's not. He's South African! How sweet is that?! So, yep, Tiber came over. Tiber and Janelle are really cute together, and from what I can tell, she likes him a lot and he treats her really well, so I'm down with this thing. Anyway, Janelle slipped and fell on the frozen-over snow in our driveway yesterday, which means she didn't make it to church. Poor thing. Poor tushy...

Tiber came over an hour later, and we were all singing Christmas songs, wrapping presents, sitting, drinking...tea... (honest). My mom came in and had this CRAZY idea that we could have church in our living room that morning (What?! I know... a revolution is beginning). What's even CRAZIER is that...I read my Bible. Out loud.

...but seriously... here's what's crazy... I cried. No, wait.... I wept. I was reading Mary's song (in Luke), and I had to stop, it was so moving to me. Yeah, right there in front of Tiber, my sisters, my step-dad, and my mom... tears of being moved by the Christmas story, by Mary's song, running down my cheeks.
Then I picked up my guitar to lead some (more current) songs, thinking for sure that it would stop the flow of these consistent drops. Nope. I sang "How He Loves" (so I actually wasn't thinking).

Let me tell you something about why this is weird to me. It's not often that I cry. But when things really move me, it happens. And there are times when things really move me, so, it does happen (logic)(...I'm a theologian, don't be jealous). NEVER, though, do I cry while reading out loud. Not in public (not even in 'living room' public). NEVER do I cry in front of strangers in my house (not even in front of half-strangers that treat my sister really well). NEVER do I cry while leading worship songs for others to follow. But, I do cry when things deeply move me... And apparently, I just didn't know how much the Christmas story deeply moves me.

I was reflecting on this today (right after I asked Janelle if Tiber thinks I'm weird...she says he doesn't...), and it shouldn't shock me so much that Christ's birth holds the power to move me so. I am undone, in fact, before my King--before even His manger...

This Christmas, more than any before, I have realized that God gives us treasures like these: times of brokenness before our family, overwhelming love that moves us to tears, and His very presence that undoes everything we've built up around ourselves (about ourselves, for ourselves). He gives us treasures of humility. Which He so stubbornly wraps His treasures of grace in. And when we receive them into our hearts--where no one can steal from--we receive the very things that make us different from what we would be without Him.

You see, I've been wondering about what makes me so different from anyone else (cause I'm not really). I've been wondering what makes me a sincere follower of Christ (as opposed to a "good Christian...?"). I've been wondering why God would ever choose me for certain things, or call me, or gift me, or anoint me, or keep it up...or...keep with me.

God's been taking away all my answers...and keeps giving me Jesus.

I guess that's why He gave the world Jesus. I mean, I always kind of guessed that...I just didn't know that's all it took....

But that's all it takes--Jesus.


I didn't know. Or I forgot.

Baby Jesus in her pocket...

My niece--Haillie. She's nuts, it's wonderful. When I got home two days ago, my mom told me that Haillie has a little "action-figure" nativity set, which, I'll admit, I'm not sure what I think of that...

Regardless though, Haillie loves it... and her favorite figure? That's right--Baby Jesus. She keeps him in her pocket. Joy says she pulls him out and just looks at him... adores him... shows him to my mom and my sister... smiles--a BIG smile... puts him back in her pocket... plays with the rest of the set for about two seconds and walks away with Jesus still in her pocket.

I love that she adores him so much. She probably doesn't know it's a baby "Jesus", but Joy asks her, "Is that Baby Jesus?" ...Haillie nods adamantly. No idea what Joy's saying, but she nods. She accepts that it is. She believes her mommy.

Joy and I were talking about how "Jesus in my pocket" might be a bit of a dangerous and stupid habit for anyone else to be picking up... but Haillie is almost 2... and she loves this little baby that is the center of attention in her action figure nativity set. In fact, it is the center of her attention. We could learn something from this little blond, 2ft, 2yr-old, too beautiful for her own good, Baby Jesus lover.

We can't find "Baby Jesus" right now... He's gone missing. Haillie is devastated.
He's probably in a washing machine somewhere... in her pocket...

Incredible.

Christmas Tree on my Thules...

It's that time of year. I traded in my kayak for a Douglas Fir...
9:30am, Dad and I went down to Coarsegold Nursey and Feed...we picked a beauty. Strapped onto my jeep--tied to the Thule racks--Douglas came home with us.



We weren't sure why it was so crooked at first... but you have to be pretty dang clever with that tree holder...

Now, I'm sitting by the fire in my living room thinking, my dad and I are good tree pickers. My job is to put lights on the tree...every year...whether I want to or not. My family's in luck this year--I want to. Which means I have a better attitude about it. Which means, pleasant, peaceful decorating times and no half-lit, wholly-despised Christmas tree sitting in our living room until tomorrow morning. Good stuff.

I did remember why I normally quit halfway through...as I was circling the tree with lights in my left hand, branches in my right, and pine needles between my teeth. I think putting the tree in a corner is my dad's idea of...funny. This year, though, I made it through the wilderness...(you know) I made it through...


The angel...on top of the tree...don't know if she'll make it. Her neck's a little cramped. Our tree is kinda tall...

He is jealous for me...

God's presence... my drive home... I can't explain that part all the way... not yet. But He IS jealous for me. And He has love of a jealous kind...

Listened to this song in the car.
Check it--

"Jealous Kind"
by Jars of Clay

I built another temple to a stranger
I gave away my heart to the rushing wind
I set my course to run right into danger
Sought the company of fools instead of friends

You know I've been unfaithful
Lovers in lines
While you're turning over tables with the rage of a jealous kind
I chose the gallows to the aisle
Thought that love would never find
Hanging ropes will never keep you
And your love of a jealous kind
Love of a jealous kind

Trying to jump away from rock that keeps on spreading
For solace in the shift of the sinking sand
I'd rather feel the pain all too familiar
Than to be broken by a lover I don't understand
'Cause I don't understand you

You know I've been unfaithful
Lovers in lines
While you're turning over tables with the rage of a jealous kind
I chose the gallows to the aisle
Thought that love would never find
Hanging ropes will never keep you
And your love of a jealous kind
Love of a jealous kind

One hundred other lovers, more, one hundred other altars
If I should slow my pace and finally subject me to grace
And love that shames the wise, betrays the heart's deceit and lies
And breaks the back of foolish pride

You know I've been unfaithful
Lovers in lines
While you're turning over tables with the rage of a jealous kind
I chose the gallows to the aisle
Thought that love would never find
Hanging ropes will never keep you
And your love of a jealous kind
Love of a jealous kind


I can just see Jesus turning those tables over in the temple that day... we've read the story... but I've never thought about it in reference to His jealous love before...
Incredible.

But--for whatever reason--with me, He always seems to be so gentle...

Jeremy and Megh's

One of the best places I've ever arrived at. I walked in yesterday afternoon, clothes in hand, to Enya's voice floating over the sage-green rug and acorn-brown couch. Heated air with crisp bay leaf, red cinnamon, and warm winter woods aromas mixed in carried the peaceful "O Come O Come Emmanuel" lyrics to my ears. I dangled the hide-a-key(set) from the empty hook by the door, next to the dog leash. Marley thought I was reaching for it, but then I think he realized there was no tearing me away from this incredible environment. Instead, I came in further... "Turn right at the bathroom" Meghan had said--sweet. Got it. So I put my clothes in the vintage wooden dresser and thought about how blessed I was to be so welcomed here...

Enya called me back into the living room--went with my book and fuzzy red Christmas socks. Then Sarah McLachlan, then Imogen Heap, then...a bunch of other great Christmas song re-arrangers...all kept the warm air filled as I read. My short attention span had me glancing around at the tasteful Christmas decorations Jeremy and Meghan put up that morning. I never knew I would enjoy the simplicity of a little Christmas tree with a little strand of lights and little, little bulb ornaments to such a large amount of contentment. I'd definitely be watching a Christmas movie soon...I could just feel it.

But first I brought my Bible out and read Luke's account of the Christmas story--the best account according to...well, me. And it was all-so good...I felt all-so indebted to, and all-so in love with, this baby the shepherds worshiped and the angels praised. Mary always has my attention in this story too. She's awesome. She was the first to give to this child...but He would soon give her more than humanly possible. I suppose no one else will know what it's like to give life to a child who gives life back--the Child who, Himself, gives life.

I read this story at Jeremy and Megh's, and it felt like a movie--a slow movie I guess--but sometimes I enjoy the absence of action. It felt like...I was loved. Not all movies have much love in them. But if we made "Staying at Jeremy and Megh's" into a movie (ooh--a Christmas movie!), there would be MUCH love in it.

And there would be potato delight and coffee. Two things that also include love.
...Meghan makes great servings of both.

I Answer Myself

If you've been tracking with my blogs, you've probably read the ones about doubt. I ask a lot of questions in them... or, rather, they stem from a lot of questions I've been asking...

I came across an essay that I wrote two years ago for one of my classes (Philosophy and Critical Thought). I read through it this morning.
In it... I answer myself...

It's a doozy, but if you're in the mood to think, here it is. I was thinking about editing it first, but decided against it--you get the sophomore-year me, unaltered and so full of certainty:


Jenna Barney
PHIL 3010

A Natural Longing to Know

Can I really know anything? I believe I can. However, there are so many questions when it comes to truth and knowledge that we as humans continually find ourselves searching for answers that are tangible, that are "real" in some sense of the word. But perhaps Ultimate Truth is not so tangible, maybe not in the here and now anyway. And it is that longing, the search itself, which has helped me become convinced of at least one thing: Humans are searching to know the One that has given them the capacity to know. It is this search and longing that I will focus on, for I know it can be a beginning to knowledge.

If a person existed who didn't long for anything or anyone, I would disagree that he or she was perfectly normal. Innately, that is what we do as humans—we long, we yearn, we think, or, at the very least, we imagine about things not immediately present or available to us. We sense that there is something more than what we have currently because that is the way it has always worked out…isn't it? After all, as Cornelius Plantinga Jr. notes, "What's remarkable is that [our] longings are unfulfillable…things may come to us…but something in us keeps saying 'not this' or 'still beyond.'" I believe that God, indeed, has made it this way. In fact, here is an example in which we see God exercising His reason, as an assistant to His love and a help to our faith and knowledge of Him. God created us for Himself, and in His love, created us with a yearning for Him. In realizing that that yearning can never be completely satisfied by any thing or person on this earth, it helps our faith in concluding that God must be the satisfier of this deep ache. Not always do people conclude this, but it can be known.

There is a German word, Sehnsucht, which Platinga Jr. also speaks of, and it is used to strongly describe our seeking or searching as humans. C.S. Lewis wrote about what is happening when we experience it: "We are seeking union with something from which we are separated." Therefore, in that separation, we look to something or someone that will make us feel connected to them, and we still know that we are separated…from something. We long to feel whole because we are missing a part, and we ache to feel full because we are never truly satisfied. Yet this is not a bad thing, for it keeps us in anticipation of what God has to offer, whether we realize it or not. And those things here on earth, which will pass away, are not bad either. God has actually blessed us with tastes of Himself, to be found in the beauty of a nostalgic green field or a healthy and love-filled relationship. He has shown us His absolutes in natural laws and revelations. Even as He has created man in His Image, so has He placed in man the communal and relational nature of His own Triune Self. For example, when we long for a union with another that may be what we acquire (and certainly are happy to). However, what comes through that union is what we are really looking for. We are deeply searching for the perfect union that lies behind it—that lies in the meaning of union, in the essence of union, in the union with God.

Knowing that we could not be satisfied until the "not this" and the "still beyond" becomes the "this" and "here" in Heaven, God does provide avenues through which His beauty and glory may be seen for now. Hope is what comes of this—a hope for the day when what our yearnings are pointing us toward will actually be completely realized for our souls. We are nostalgia-embracing creatures, to be sure, but we are that in order to keep the hope alive that perhaps it is possible to "climb back into" what our hearts deeply feel has been lost. Someday I believe we will. It is God's beauty behind those things and people that makes us long for them (maybe again). It is the beauty of their original design and purpose that we so long to see restored. At times, we look in the wrong places, but not necessarily for the wrong reasons.

...If a person existed that didn't long for anything or anyone, I would disagree that he or she was perfectly normal...

I would also doubt that they were telling the truth. For, there is a taste of God's beauty even in this phenomenon of human longing and the "sense of divinity" that our Creator has gifted us with. Paul provides a profound description of how God helps us yearn for His beauty when he writes, "But God has revealed it to us by his Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God. For who among men knows the thoughts of man except the man's spirit within him? We have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit who is from God, that we may understand what God has freely given us." –1 Corinthians 2:10-11a, 12

My Christmas List

I told my mom I didn't need anything for Christmas this year. But she still wants me to make a Christmas list. "I'm your mom, I'm gonna get you a few presents for Christmas no matter what you say!" Ok mom. (I love my mom. AND she has a point. I'd want to give good gifts to my children too...I think God says He likes to do that...)

So I'm making a list for her...
Other people have inquired also. For their sakes, here it is:

1)coffee or jamba juice gift card
2)a date to the movies
3)a good book
4)Schindler's List
5)"To Write Love on Her Arms" shirt
6)a pair of Tom's Shoes
7)a mixed CD
8)a card

That's all.

Someone stop me...

...from listening to songs that make me think so much. I was listening to Derek Webb the other day (if you don't listen to Derek Webb, you should--he'll challenge you--it'll probably be good for you).

Mockingbird. So good.

This line in particular has me glued... I keep pressing "back" on my iTunes... I keep hitting the left "seek" button on my car stereo face... just so I can get to this line again...

"There are times that I believe I’m satisfied
like an intimate connection
despite this bad reception with you."


...mmm, so true. In fact, I'm pretty sure there have been more than just "times" for me... I'm pretty sure it's been...uh...my WHOLE LIFE. Sure, God and I still have a relationship--we have always had a relationship. That "intimate connection" has been there for quite a while. But the "bad reception"... that's been there too. I try to make it good enough... I try to convince myself that this is "just the way things are for me." As if God doesn't want me to hear Him more...

I can be so complacent. SO satisfied with the "low service areas" of mine and God's chats. Sometimes I drive into those tunnels on purpose... (if I can't make out what He's saying, I'm not accountable to it, right?)

And then sometimes I just pretend. I crinkle a little wrapper in front of my little cowardly mouth to make it sound like..."What was that God? Oh... oh no... You're.. yep, you're breaking up! Uh, sorry, we'll just have to finish this conversation later! Bye!" Click. Off to my life.

(I know, my analogy is dumb... heck, it's what came to mind when I started thinking about "bad reception" though. Welcome to my thought world.)

But me and God--yeah, we're working through stuff. The reception may be bad... and it's probably my fault. But for whatever reason, God is patient with me. He calls back. We have an intimate connection, God and I. We just... I just... it's just... not as satisfactory as I always let myself believe.

Folks, don't settle for bad reception. Switch to verizon.
That's all.

(You can figure out the verizon analogy yourself.)


Peace-

My magical flippy calendar

My flippy calendar... is magic I think. Or, it is ordained by the Lord.

Today... is December 2nd. So in my flippy calendar, I turned to "December 2" (Go to college. It pays off).

Something you should know about today is that I had coffee with Sarah, and I told her about how I think God is teaching me to receive HIM however He comes to me. He's been trumping my common sense and showing me (or trying to show me) things about Himself that are more real than what I've been recognizing. He is teaching me about foolishness and wisdom...about MY foolishness and HIS wisdom.

So today... what my flippy calendar says has to do with the ways that He comes...the forms that He's taken.
And instead of trying to make sure everything makes sense to me, He is teaching me to just receive...

"Advent is also meant...to refresh us and make us healthy, to be able to receive Christ in whatever form He may come to us."
-Mother Teresa

Advent...the hope, the peace, the joy, the love...the anticipation of His coming.

December 2nd. A gingerbread latte and a comfy chair. Mother Teresa's thoughts on Advent. Hope, peace, joy, love. Anticipation. Come Jesus... however YOU know we need, whatever form You choose.

40 billion...

Finally got back to the gym this morning... it's been a while... I was in a really good mood. Then, I looked up from the elliptical, expecting to see the weather forecast, or something about a new tickle-me elmo for holiday shopping updates. Well, I got the holiday shopping update (nothing about elmo--my niece will be so sad)... apparently U.S. Americans have spent 40 billion dollars in the last two days of promoted Christmas shopping. Made me a little sick, I won't lie. Normally, I don't pay much attention to numbers...

...but our school had to go and show this video in chapel a week ago:


Now, that two days--40 billion dollars worth--of holiday spending means not giving clean water to everyone who needs it 4 times over...

...but this is just the world we live in, right?

Well, this year, I think I'm going to be a little change in that.
I realize this may be a bit unpatriotic of me (I pay attention in cultural anthropology class) ...but this year, I think I'm going to enter the story.
Care to join?

"Doubting Thomas"

I've been listening to the Nickel Creek album Why Should the Fire Die? And I've had the song "Doubting Thomas" practically on repeat. What a powerful, honest song...

"Doubting Thomas"

What will be left when I've drawn my last breath
Besides the folks I've met and the folks who've known me
Will I discover a soul-saving love
Or just the dirt above and below me

I'm a doubting Thomas
I took a promise
But I do not feel safe
Oh me of little faith

Sometimes I pray for a slap in the face
Then I beg to be spared
cause I'm a coward
If there's a master of death
I bet he's holding his breath
As I show the blind and tell the deaf about his power

I'm a doubting Thomas
I can't keep my promises
Cause I don't know what's safe
Oh me of little faith

Can I be used to help others find truth
When I'm scared I'll find proof that it's a lie
Can I be led down a trail dropping bread crumbs
That prove I'm not ready to die

Please give me time to decipher the signs
Please forgive me for time that I've wasted

I'm a doubting Thomas
I'll take your promise
Though I know nothin's safe
Oh me of little faith

More Thankfulness... "Bolt" with my niece.

Life just keeps getting better. I took my niece to see the movie Bolt tonight. She loved it... well, she loved the first 40 minutes of it anyway...

Her first movie theater movie... we're sitting in the same seat...she's in my lap, sipping on her "sippy." Then the lights go out and the movie starts. Immediately--"Doggy!!!" Yep, that's my genius niece, she knows what a doggy looks like. I grin proudly at the family behind me. They have a couple of toddlers too...but not a peep out of them. That's right, my niece knows what a doggy looks like... they don't.

She keeps talking to the screen. It's great. Other children are joining in now. The five of us over the age of seven are outnumbered... so we accept the fact that this will be one of those interactive-type movie experiences.

I'm biting the kernel part off of the popcorn like my sister told me to and giving Haillie the puffy white parts to eat. She bites my finger a couple of times... but then Bolt does something funny, and Haillie's sweet giggle keeps me from cursing her teeth under my breath. I love Haillie. If she knew she hurt me, it would be waterworks for the rest of the night. So I'm glad her giggles calm me down.

Forty minutes into the movie--sippy cup hits the ground, soft little cheek squishes against my sweatshirt. Yup, she's out. Not even Bolt's super-bark can wake her now...

So me, the mom and dad behind me, the two fifty-year-old ladies in the back row, and the 300 (wide-awake) toddlers finish the movie while Haillie naps. It makes sense... she skipped her nap earlier today.

Like auntie, like niece...
movies are great nap times...

20+ Things I'm thankful for this month...

I'm thankful for my family. I'm thankful for Oakhurst. I love driving home to Oakhurst--as soon as Mariposa turns into Awahnee, and Awahnee turns into Oakhurst... Then comes Deadwood... my mountain... I call it "my mountain" because that's what I drove up and down every day (to school and back, to work and back, to practice and back, to church and back... to Vons and back). As soon as Awahnee turns into Oakhurst... I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

I'm also thankful for Redding... for Simpson... I have learned things in Redding and at Simpson that I never thought I would even attempt to understand in my lifetime. People there have impacted me... and the sunsets have astounded me. God has moved in my life in the most mysterious of ways there... but He has also drawn me closer to Him than I ever knew He wanted me.

I'm grateful for good friends. I'm grateful for the Stirring... and life groups...

Maybe I'll make a little list for now (for Meghan) of other things I am currently appreciating ;).

1) sweatshirts (don't worry, these won't be in order of importance)
2) good soundtracks
3) blankets available over the back of couches
4) humor
5) guitars
6) popcorn
7) ...popcorn bowls
8) novels
9) autumn
10) sisters
11) and cousins
12) card games
13) "the electricity is out" nights
14) "sing-song" monopoly (with sisters) nights
15) kindred spirits
16) insight
17) hindsight
18) sight
19) my running shoes
20) coffee


Of course, there's so much more. But it's time for me to pop some popcorn. Did I mention that I'm thankful for popcorn?

Kate's voice

probably looks like this:
On days like today, when it's so gloomy and just wet enough to not wear your good shoes outside (if you have good shoes...), I get caught between wanting to stay in bed and reading (well, ok, watching movies) or being super productive and plugging away at papers that are due soon (way too soon).

Instead, I cleaned my room and wrote some emails. Which was good. My room needed cleaning. And I like writing emails. Mostly.

Here's something else I did: my laundry. That's right, people--clean clothes--I will be wearing clean clothes for the next week or so. Also good.

AND, finally, (now, this was all before 9am) I got to see my wonderful Katelin this morning and finish up a song we've been working on together, and it's AWESOME!! Kate Mentink has an incredible voice. If you've never had her sing to you on a rainy day to some jazzy chords while you're sipping on (the closest thing you could conjure up to) a latte, oh boy...you are missing out. I got the chills this morning.

Kate's gonna be my back up singer on my.... whatever the heck I end up having for her to be my back up singer on...

I'm thinking about buying a studio for the soul purpose of having Kate be my back up singer on something. Seriously.

And then we will switch spots, and I'll back her up. It's what friends do.




I bet Kate's voice looks something like that picture up there...

I wonder if God has a favorite song.

A song is a beautiful thing. I'm no music major (I don't even know how to read music), so I can't tell you why exactly. I just know that something happens when I strum that guitar and fumble my way through a melody... It's like... more than just my voice comes out. But what I think is so beautiful about songs is the fact that even God sings...

"God promises to love me all day, sing songs all through the night! My life is God's prayer." Psalm 42:8. Incredible.

Even God sings. And He sings over me. All through the night!
Now, I've never been a huge fan of nights (vampires come out at night). But maybe if I remember that God is singing...

I wonder if God has a favorite song...

Ten bucks says it's "Jesus Loves Me"

November 13

This is what my flippy calendar says today:
"Very little is needed to make a happy life" (-Marcus Aurelius).

Only one thing is needed, actually...

"My heart says of you, 'Seek his face!'
Your face, LORD, I will seek" (-David, Psalm 27: 8).

...One thing.

And that one thing can be seen in the others--in the "very little" that indeed make for a happy life...
but may God still be my focus...
God, be my everything.


I guess if I look at it like this:
The less I have, the less I have to struggle to see God through.

"Very little is needed to make a happy life"... yeah... I think he might be onto something...

Ephesians 4:1-3

Can we please ALL read that again???

"As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace."

This is my prayer for the Body of Christ:

My heart is breaking for so many things. I cry in my bed because I don't understand how we could all talk about our wonderful Jesus (ah...and I love Him! We ALL love Him, don't we?) and about healing and acceptance and love; yet be so gossipy, envious, bitter, allusive, and unforgiving towards each other. It's sneaky...it's clever...Satan knows what he's doing...it's never as obvious to us, ourselves, as what we think about when we speak of that stuff. And of this very thing, I am guilty.

It breaks my heart.

Let's ALL read Ephesians 4:1-3 again.

"As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace."

I don't care what our "reason" is. I don't care what our "boundaries" are. I don't care what our "wisdom" tells us. It's not an issue of reason--it's not a game around boundaries and wisdom. I want us to listen to the wisdom of Jesus--the humility of His way--the openness and patience and willingness to "bear with" the other in love...

I want us to give second and third and fourth and fifth and seventy-times-seven chances.

I am so close to saying, "God, Can't we all just get along?!"


Then again, I guess this could just be coming from the peace-maker side of me.

Lord, hear my honest plea--I'm not asking that You help us "sweep" all our conflicts "under the carpet." But help us put our effort toward fighting for peace with one another rather than avoiding and begrudging each other...

...maybe I just don't understand.
...maybe I am just naive.

But if You hear nothing else... at least hear the child in me that wants to see her friends next to her, being welcomed into Jesus' arms too...
...there in the "unity of the Spirit."


Oh Ephesians 4 :1-3...

"As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace."

Can't we all just...read that again?

Ya know those mornings?

The ones when you feel like you're in fifth grade again? Back before the world was all explainable by "science"? (Nacho Libre, people, it's deeper than you think). Back before we had to see things from different perspectives... back before we knew there were different perspectives...

I like those mornings. Though I know they cannot last. Yesterday morning was one of those mornings. And coupled by the fact that it was election day, I definitely DID feel young and stupid again. I woke up early (it was Tuesday), and I "did my thing." Already, I knew yesterday was different. At the gym--aside from the fact that Kieth Urban, Garth Brooks, and James Taylor's faces were on about five different t-shirts--I could just sense people "pumping themselves up"...meaning more than on the bench press...

Yep. Election day. Nobody wants to talk about it, but everybody wants to know: "Who are YOU voting for?"
(Eh, now we know)

Well, I wasn't thinking about that question yet. I was at the gym. And my iPod was the only noise-making, thought-provoking thing ringing in my ear... I wasn't ready to face the world yet. I wanted to be in fifth grade again.

I got done at the gym and walked outside. FREEZING. But I loved it. I loved the smell. It smelled like snow... even though all the snow is very far away... (Mt. Shasta's calling my name)

When I was in fifth grade, it would start snowing halfway through the day. I'd sit in my little Christian school classroom, with my little Christian school classmates, and we'd pray our brains out that it would snow hard enough for school to be let out early. My mom was a teacher there, so my sisters and I would end up staying later anyway... but it was the principle of the thing. FREEDOM AND HOT CHOCOLATE. Yeah, I loved those days.

So anyway. Yesterday, I walked out of the gym, I smelled the winter cold, I saw the orange-red leaves, I heard the... whatever holiday seasons sound like (?)... and instantly, the election didn't matter, my homework didn't matter, my creaking knees didn't matter (yes, my knees creak already. It's a joint thing). All that mattered was... "You're my kid." I heard Him whisper it. I wish I could say He whispered it clearly--audibly--and that if I had a tape recorder in my pocket at the time, we could get it on the Stirring podcast, and millions of people would fall on their faces in worship because there would be no denying that this was the VOICE OF GOD(!) ...but it wasn't an audible whisper. My ears didn't hear it, per say. I didn't record it from my pocket. But my soul heard it. "You're my kid." I wonder how many times He says that in the day. I wonder how many holidays I'll have to live through to bring that realization back around again. I think He intends for me to hear that in my soul more often. And if He's saying that to me... then I can guarantee He's saying that to you too.

Sometimes, we just gotta stop and smell the... winter...

...and remember what it was like to pray for snow days.

Finished...but never quite done.

Songs are never quite done. Even if they have been "finished." I re-write songs all the time. Which reminds me of something Travis-O told our worship team not too long ago--that we are like God's poems that He is finishing and still re-writing. We are redeemed, yes, by Christ's act on the cross; but we are constantly being refined by the work of the Holy Spirit in us. Just like Paul tells us: "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus" (Philippians 1:6). Well maybe I am not as faithful as He is--maybe I won't complete all the songs I start. And maybe I can't really compare my song to a human being constantly worked in and refined...

But, it made me think about how my own songs are finished...but never quite done.

I am glad God doesn't look at me and go, "Welp, that's it--Done!" It's nice to know that one of the places He still moves in today is even in me... It's incredible to think that He carries it on to completion... all the way until the day of Christ Jesus.

Most of that was to say...

...yeah, I finished my song on Friday night...but I'm still working on it ;). Who knows if it will ever be "complete."

Yup

Yup. I did. I finished the song I'm writing.

"Promises of Love"
Read Psalm 27:13-14 and you'll get the heart and thought behind it.

Other than that...
wanna hear about my day? (if not, stop reading here... *)

My day...insane...

Here's the run-down if you're interested:

5:50am, drove to Walmart for a light saber (best purchase of the week--bothering people all day with it--LOVED it).
6:30am, parked outside the school gym--studied for my Intro to Bio test.
6:50am, went inside the school gym--lights, tuned, and plugged in for sound check.
7:00am, sound check...
8:00am, Intro to Bio test.
9:00am, prep for Cultural Anthropology presentation.
10:00am, chapel...
11:30am, Cultural Anthropology presentation (light saber time...)
12:30am, lunch with Wendy. so great. :)
1:30pm, planned on ditching Life and Letters of Paul class...
1:50pm, Wendy made me go to Life and Letters of Paul class...
2:00pm, stabbed myself in the eye because I CAN'T STAND Life and Letters of Paul class (ok, not really...but I imagined it)
2:10pm, wrote Kate Agudo a note in LLP class--it was about how I wanted to finish my song tonight. (check)
2:30pm, Kate and I were forced to participate in Life/Letters of Paul class!!
2:50pm, freedom...
3:00pm, Intro to Political Science class .....Elections. 'Nuff said.
3:45pm, let out of Pol Sci early! (not even cause I set the clock forward five minutes either)
4:00pm, Yaks Happy Hour baby!
4:05("four-fo-five")pm, FOO FOO FRIDAYS!!! (du-nu-nu-nu, nu-nu-nu-nu, nu-nu-nuh!)
4:25...ish pm, Hannah, Sarah, Emily, and Kate, laughing at me and my light saber. I have no idea why. I think they were jealous.
5:00pm, stuff happened...
6:05pm, dinner with Wendy--double great. :)
7:30pm, volleyball game... "S-U!" (which always sounds like "F-U!")
8:30pm, back to my song...
10:30pm, song--pretty much finished.
11:05pm, "Yup"

Yup. Done.

Now(11:09pm), it's bed time.

I'munna

I'munna finish the song I'm writing soon.

Got more lyrics for it today.
I can feel it...

A Little Bit of Everything

I'm a little hyper. And a little tired...
I'm a little stressed out. And a little bit relaxed...
I'm a little sad. And a little happy...

I'm a little bit confused. But also pretty certain of the things that matter most...
...like love, and peace, and God's faithfulness.

He has never left me--though I have been devastated by the thought many times. Jesus is still alive--though I was not there to see Him in the flesh so long ago. "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed" (John 20:29) (Oh, but I would have been the Doubting Thomas in that story).

And then there's Peter, who encourages us in such crazy times...
"These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy" (1 Peter 1:7-8).

When I have a little bit of everything going on in this racing mind of mine, it's nice to remember that I love Jesus--that I believe in Him--that my faith results in praise, and that I am filled with (a whole lot more than a little bit of) inexpressible and glorious joy.

Yeah. I'm a little bit confused...

But I'm also very grateful.

Up and At 'em!

Yep. That's right! I am up and at 'em again (those many tasks and daily routines of mine). And I have to say.... I miss my bed!!!! :(

Haha... not really. (I always wanted to say something like that though). 

In all sincerity, it's great to be alive. It's great to greet the day. It's awesome to jump down from the top bunk in the morning and think, "Yes, His mercies are new every morning... but this morning, I am blessed to feel it!" We don't alway need to feel it to know it. But it helps a little when we get to experience that "there may be pain in the night, but joy comes in the morning" 

Sometimes the night is a literal 12-hour night. Sometimes it is three-days in bed. Sometimes it is longer...

But joy does come in the morning. 

...And it is a beautiful morning.

Bed-ridden

It's disappointing. I want to slam my head against the desk right now... but something tells me that won't fix the aching. Being bed-ridden for me is like being in Hawaii without my guitar for two weeks--people say how good it is to get the rest, but I can't even do the things I love most. I'm not a huge fan of beds like some are. I DO like Hawaii...but that's beside the point.

Couldn't I take a mental break instead? The physical ones don't mean much to me without the mental ones...

I have these dreams...

Sometimes I have these dreams...
They're not super crazy, or too lofty... but they are a bit idealistic.... and I wonder if they could ever really happen.

They're usually about the world--about social justice issues, about international relations, about advocating for the voiceless, about freedom for the oppressed...

I'm writing a political science paper right now. I love that class. I love that even when I don't want to go (I have it at 3 in the afternoon, and I'm not a huge fan of afternoons) I end up getting our whole class into a discussion about welfare, or communism, or ideological motives and our Machiavellian tendencies by the end of the period. I always think it's gonna be so boring... It's usually not.

In fact, the best part about it:
I get to think about my dreams. I get to wrestle through them.
Sometimes I wonder if that shouldn't be the whole point to education in the first place... to wrestle through your dreams... To figure out how reality meets your visions...how your visions could become reality... It would be cool if these dreams became reality.

But I don't want my dreams to be my dreams. I only want my dreams if they are also God's. I think we did a series at the Stirring about that a while ago--"When God Dreams" or something like that. Well, I'm convinced that His dreams have a lot to do with "freedom for the prisoners," as Isaiah and Jesus both proclaimed. And it seems like a lot of my dreams have to do with the same thing.

So. Every Monday, Wednesday, Friday I've been thinking about those dreams. I've been thinking about them ideally... and I've been thinking about them realistically...
They have a lot to do with politics--more than I ever thought any dreams of mine would. And they have a lot to do with other countries--more than I ever thought I would let them... (sometimes MKs have bitter, rebellious streaks ;)

But most importantly, they have a lot to do with speaking up for those who cannot speak up for themselves--with standing up for those who have constantly been crushed. I want to be a voice for the voiceless. And I want to usher in God's dream of healing for the broken. I don't know if I'll ever see a whole country reach restoration after political devestation... or if we'll ever get all the prostitutes out of the brothels...out of the system...out of their prisons...
I don't know if I'll still be alive when Cambodian fathers begin teaching their sons to care for their families again...or if I'll ever watch American women demonstrate to each other what real beauty is or where it comes from. I don't know if I'll ever be the kind of advocate OR influence in the political and social spheres that I've had thoughts about.

I do know God's Kingdom is coming, though, and that Jesus tells us to pray for it. I know that I've seen parts of it here and there...and that even the smallest of healings is healing nonetheless...

Sometimes I have these dreams...
They're not super crazy, or too lofty.

In fact, I think they could be pretty darn realistic...

...depending on how you look at it.

What do you think?

We talked about greed on Sunday. We talked about greed this morning ...at my incredible breakfast club. And I started thinking... Greed is about so much more than money... I started thinking... Greed probably has more to do with broken or misplaced trust than anything else...
I started thinking...

Can you be greedy with how much you want of a person's time? Have you ever been greedy with what you expect out of a friendship--or are willing to give it? Is it possible that we are more greedy with our feelings than we would like to admit? And what's the difference between protecting your heart, your love, your life... and hoarding it?

I don't really know the answers to these questions. But I was just thinking about them tonight.

I was thinking about a lot of things--none of them directly related to these questions--but my mind just wanders. So these are some questions it wandered to...

Questions about greed...

What do you think?

Breakfast club is incredible.

Ah Tuesday again... which means another breakfast club has come and gone. Breakfast club is incredible. I love it. It's part of the reason why I love Tuesdays (we've been through this). The girls, the coffee, the oatmeal, the Deja Vu... all incredible. (I'm not super picky about my coffee, so yes, I mean that). But there is one thing to note about this particular breakfast club... the one of "TODAY." If I was much of a journal...er..(ist?)..(whatever), I'd probably write about this one in there. I'd have the date up in the right-hand corner, and the time (I like to note time). And I'd probably start it out with a sentence like: "Today was different," or "Today was weird." And my journal would be flapping with anticipation--"WHY?! WHY?! Tell me! TELL ME..." And I'd continue writing. But then I'd realize--"my journal can't ask questions... or be anticipatory..." so I'd stop writing to my journal... and I'd start blogging...

People read blogs.
This is one about breakfast club today...






Today was different. Today was weird. There were no bright-eyes or bushy-bangs for me this morning, there was no quick wit or sly, AWESOME jokes (ok, ok, so maybe the bushy-bangs were still there, my bangs are always kinda bushy...)
No. Today I was tired.

I took my normal seat next to my usually-tired Sarah, but there was nothing normal or usual about what happened when I got there this particular morning... I was tired.

Head down--on the table--"Is Jenna sleeping??" I heard it and pulled myself back to the present.
"Ah! I don't know what's the matter with me this morning!!" I responded with desperation... (ya know...that kind of desperation that breeds half-cries, half-laughs...all whine...) Blank stares from the table--a few giggles--like anyone else knew what the matter was either. My outbursts are humorous sometimes.

Let me explain if you're not catching onto the drama here:
I'm a morning person. And I'm definitely a Tuesday morning person. I'm definitely NOT tired at breakfast club. I mean, someone has to keep those "sleepy-sleepersons" going... ;) (jk you guys). I'm usually watching the clock from the elliptical machine thinking "I bet Kristena is hating wake-up time right now... hehehehe..." I'm usually trying to not offend the quiet section of our breakfast table with all my crazy, pointless fun facts from the anthropology chapter I'm reading. In the beginning, it's usually pretty quiet at our table. I'm usually trying to get a chuckle or two out of my neighboring seats....
But not today... Today, there were laughs ringing out from all sections of the table!!! All sections... but my sad little sleepy middle section... What the heck???

"Have some coffee Jenna..." God bless Danielle Kettle. She always knows just what I need.

So I drank some of Sarah's coffee--no splenda. But I think it helped a little... and by the end of our time together, we were all talking about greed, and our pasts, and our mindsets now because of our pasts, and our mindsets now because of our church... I love our church! And finally I was awake! Pink Elephant time!

Two parables: The one about ten virgins and the one about the money loaned to the servants. Yeah, that's right, I read them both. One right after the other... (the coffee was working). Thanks Danielle. Thanks Sarah. Thanks Meghan... (Meghan had to sit by me the whole time... and I used her Bible... thanks Meghan)

But I can't attribute ALL of my waked-up-ed-ness (thanks dashes) to coffee alone. Talking about Jesus helps too. Reading His parables wakes me up pretty well. I love stories, and I love to learn, and I love to learn by hearing stories told by people that I love (and I love Jesus), so parables and I... we get along...

Anyway, I read those two parables and then we started talking about them, and honest-to-goodness, I CANNOT shut my mouth when I want to... I wished I hadn't had so much coffee... and now my knee is bouncing up and down (it's what I do) and I kinda want more coffee..... Greed.

Haha, but breakfast club is incredible. I don't mind rambling there. The other girls don't seem to mind much either. Or maybe they were tired too... yeah, me being tired at breakfast club...(?!?!)
...that was WEIRD.

First of Five

6:04 a.m.
It's a little chilly in my room, so the thought of pulling on some sweats and a hoodie actually sounds pretty good. The sun's not up yet, but it will be soon... ok, NOW THE RACE IS ON.

Out of bed, grab the tooth brush, hair brush, face...cloth...
Sweats, shoes, hoodie, wallet, iPod, phone, keys... out the door...
"Yes! No sun!" I smile to myself (as strange as that might sound). See, I have this goal sometimes--to be on the treadmill at the gym while the sun is coming up. If you get the right machine (the one in front of the big tree just outside the window) it's the perfect picture of God shedding morning light onto something that had been starved for it all night. It's like watching new mercy come at dawn. I love new mercy at dawn...

So, this particular dawn... is the first of five.
The first of five days off from school--the first of five mornings that I would like to catch a glimpse of that mercy picture. Maybe not specifically the gym-tree one. Maybe not specifically the rising sun of every early morning. It's more along the lines of...intentionality ...intentionally recognizing that, truly, God's mercy is new every morning.

It's 8:05 now. About two hours since that first glimpse has taken place. And I'm already realizing, "I am SO GLAD His mercy is new every morning," because it helps me know the freedom that Christ gave us a little better. He sets me free every morning--He says, "Go in peace. Sin no more." And I have the chance to grow and change.

How awful it would be to have to stay chained to yesterday's self! I might not stay free every time He breaks those chains for me, but every morning, I know He smiles on that tree just outside the gym window, and every morning, I know He smiles on me.

Maybe today will be the first of five that I smile back...

...maybe it will be the first of five thousand.

Roadtripping

"I would not be the person I am today if..."




...Nathan completed that sentence last night by giving recognition to a man who had walked with him for a season. Just last Thursday, I completed that sentence at lifegroup... also by giving recognition to someone who had walked with me for a season. Emily Rowlett was her name (it's now Emily Blosser), and I would not be the person I am today if she had not called me out.

Once, I thought I could just stay in the shadows. I loved serving God enough... but I didn't care to be up front... especially up in front of others. Once, I thought that being "up front" would mean being prideful. Really though... my hiding was more prideful in the end. Emily encouraged me not to hide. She called out an anointing that she saw on me... she called out something that I could not see myself. She was God's voice in my life, calling out the spirit of worship that I had never really known what to do with. And we had been roadtripping.

Well, maybe not literally... but from the first day I met Emily, I knew I wanted to walk with her. I knew I secretly wanted her to join with me on my way.

She did.

She came into my life, and I began learning from hers. When she called me out of youth group and into the "big service" on Sunday mornings, I thought to myself, "Why?" Why would she want me to sing with her on Sundays? Why would she want me to play the guitar when my skills were, at best, mediocre?

"I know you live in the shadows of those who you think are 'better' than you, Jenna... I know you think there are others more talented, more qualified..." She could practically read my mind...
"But ya know... I think there's a difference between being 'good' and having an anointing... Jenna, you have an anointing." End of the mind-reading. I was definitely NOT thinking that.
But as much as I wanted to disagree, I could no longer deny what she had seen. And we had been "roadtripping" together long enough that I knew I could trust whatever she intentionally had to tell me. I didn't know she would intentionally tell me something like that.

I was 15 when I met Emily. I was 15 when she began walking with me. I was 18 when she called out that anointing in me... and I'm still struggling with embracing certain things about that... but the seed has been planted nonetheless, and God has not allowed the shadows to keep hindering its growth. Emily and I roadtripped for 3 years... roadtripping with Emily was like growing in a greenhouse. My passion for music came alive. Calling others to worship through music became what I felt alive for...

Of course, there's more to my life than "a worship service"... there was much more to Emily's life too. We just shared in that soundtrack... that roadtrip music... we just shared those songs that gave us space to pray and breathe and come face-to-face with God... we shared an awesome season... there's so much more that I could say about that time of my life. There's a lot more that I could say about how God used Emily in my life--in His calling out of me--in my stepping out into an anointing. And there are others who have called me out... for other seasons. But those are other roadtrip stories.

For now, I just wanted to finish that sentence... because it's true; and it's good.

Really. I would not be the person I am today if Emily hadn't called me out.

So call someone out. Start a roadtrip.

Cause you never know who they could be tomorrow...

It's almost here...

That's right. The quote blog is almost here! I'm thinking about what the appropriate setup would be...and the best colors...

Also, I have the first quote picked out (sorry Dan, it's not "burgers" just yet). I'm now wondering if I should put the quote blog under my profile... or start a new profile altogether...

But there's just one snag:
Blogger sent me a "hold" warning--something about potential "terms of service" violation that I could run into with this thing? Who knew starting a quote blog could be such a legal issue...

(yes, I'm being slightly facetious...)

I bought Jesus coffee today

Have you had a moment in your life when you realize God is changing you? Today I had one of those moments. I just shared with my lifegroup tonight that I used to be really afraid of homeless people.... like, really. But this last Sunday, Dan shared a message about the least...and today, I acted upon it. Normally I don't just tell stories like this. It seems too...self-magnifying to me. But this last Sunday, Dan shared a message about how what you do for the least, you do for Jesus...and today, God changed something in me. So this is not a self-magnifying story. This is a story about how God magnified Himself in my life. This is a story about what He is doing...and how I got to be a part of it.

So here it is.

Meghan and were sitting in Starbucks this morning. I texted her last night telling her that I wished today would be Tuesday (because...well, I love Tuesdays). She texted back... and we decided to meet at Starbucks at eight (because...well, we love Starbucks). So anyway, we're sitting in Starbucks this morning... talking about awesome things... like broken hearts, disappointing relationships, and the current US economy...

...and just when it's getting MORE awesome--cause we're starting to talk about how greedy we all are--Meghan's suddenly looking out the window with confusion written all over her face. "Meghan, we're talking about awesome things here...would you pay attention?" (I didn't say this out loud of course). But then I look too... and there he is... digging through the outside Starbucks trash can... filling up his empty water bottle with left-over, thrown out coffee... Jesus. Well, ok. Maybe it wasn't the Jesus. Like, not Christ Himself. However, if we take that passage in Matthew a little more seriously, then I needed to see this man that we were looking at with some eyes that saw him as Jesus. So I prayed. And then I did. And then... of course... God asked me to act. ugh.... God's an encourager like that.

Well, this man is about to walk away--but I knew I wouldn't be able to let Jesus walk away with coffee from a trash--so I go out and ask him if maybe I could buy him a real cup. "And maybe a new water bottle too?" He accepts. His name is Eddie.

Eddie and I go inside, and while we're waiting in line for coffee, he just begins telling me all about how he doesn't ask for things from people... "because I don't want to be a bother... but you came and offered... so now I can have fresh coffee..." (And as we work our way over to the creamer and sugar table) ..."Ya know, I'm a Christian, and I'm going down to visit my friend in L.A. tomorrow... he's a pastor... I'll have him ask the congregation to pray for you..." (And as he puts the last of approximately 25 sugar packets into his vente, triple shot, black coffee)... "Don't stray from God. He'll take care of you... He's always taken care of me..."

What a lesson I have just learned from Eddie.
What a lesson I have just learned from Jesus.

Eddie wishes me well, and I watch him walk out the door. I go back to my seat next to Meghan...and we just start talking again. About twenty minutes later, Eddie's back.
"Hey, you wouldn't happen to have 6 C batteries would you?" He holds out his stereo and begins to explain that his pastor friend gave him a tape to listen to a long time ago... and Eddie wants to listen to it on the Greyhound bus tomorrow morning. Well I don't have C batteries... "but maybe Longs does," I say. Meghan and I both assist him this time. Meghan buys him batteries... and of course, he's just as talkative as ever. It's awesome though... hearing about his daughter, his pastor friend, his hopes... his dreams...

Once we're done in Longs, we sit outside with Eddie for a couple more minutes... he's telling us deep things now... things about his past, things about his brother... things about his brother's suicide...

Eddie starts weeping. I start praying in silence. I wonder if God is comforting Eddie in this moment... maybe simply by having Meghan and I there...

A couple more minutes pass, and Eddie's ready to go. He smiles. He blesses us again. He tells us He will have his pastor tell the congregation to pray for our whole church. And he asks us to have our pastor tell the congregation to pray for him. I think, "If Jesus asked me to do that...I'm pretty sure I'd be on board with it..." So, I'm on board with it.

We say goodbye to Eddie, and Eddie says, "He's gonna bless you a hundred times over for this."

Maybe Eddie's right. But I just hope he was blessed...


I was thinking about this whole ordeal later on this afternoon, and what kept coming to mind was, "God, you're so good." Why would I keep saying that though... wasn't it I who bought that coffee for homeless Eddie today? "No, no, no," God whispers back, "It was Jesus who you bought coffee for... and it was I who let you see Him."

So, maybe I bought Jesus coffee today.

But today... His name was Eddie.

Soon

Soon I will start a quote blog. I've been dreaming up this quote blog for months now. It's true. Ask Meg and Emily. It began with Tuesday staff meetings... then I realized how many other awesome things are said in this world... and most of them make me want to pee my pants. I will refrain from saying any right now... it's all about anticipation. Feel it? You should. This quote blog's gonna be money! Soon.

...very soon.

Why I love Tuesdays

It seems like no matter how late I stay up Monday night, Tuesday morning I'm awake at 5:30am, bright-eyed and bushy-bangs. So I go to the gym, and it's wonderful. I like getting to the gym really early...really early...when the stars are still mixed in with that arriving light of dawn... And when there are about four other people total, one of which is already dedicated to her cycling machine... already sweating, turning those magazine pages, iPod ear buds in place... I could get there at 5:02am and someone's already on their second treadmill-mile... (you thought I was crazy).

But I like that. I like seeing fellow early risers. I go in and give the head-nod... cycling girl nods back... treadmill man lifts a couple fingers ("heeeyyy..."). It's like this kinship we have. Mark wishes me well as I gear up for my cross-trainer (cleverly stamped "X-trainer"...cause it's extreme like that). Shoes tight? check. Socks un-bunched? check. iPod secure? check. Bathroom? (....wait, did I go to the bathroom yet?) no. K...back to the bathroom (the empty bladder is key here for maximum achievement of cardio endurance building) .....NOW I'm ready...
Ready? check.

So begins my Tuesday. I love Tuesdays.

After spending time in the gym "world" (yes, it is one of my many), I pop in a good soundtrack-to-a-sunrise type CD and cruise on downtown to my awesome breakfast club. No mistaking it, this lifegroup rocks! Today, we revisited the message from Sunday night, and I have to say, there was so much to think about, be convicted about, receive grace for, and just love Jesus because of. I love these women's thoughts...and I love the Bible...and I love that we get to think about the Bible together on Tuesday mornings...

Anyway, I was SUPER hyper, so the other half of Meghan's oatmeal and the start of my cultural anthropology chapter are all kind of blurred together in this somewhere. I think I might have gotten into a debate about Star Wars movies with Danielle at some point... And I'm pretty sure I said that Sean Connery was the reason that Indianna Jones: The Last Crusade is the best one of the used-to-be trilogy. I DO know that I left everyone with this recommendation: Derrick Webb's CD, Mockingbird. Really good. A bit controversial, but if you want to prep yourself for the Stirring's "Elephant" series... it may contribute.

Mockingbirds and elephants.... animals that were part of my Tuesday today...

Speaking of... I haven't even talked about Tuesday staff meetings yet... that's a whole blog in and of itself.

Another reason why I love Tuesdays.

My Many Worlds

I live in about six different worlds. One is school. One is home. One is church. One is past. One is present. And one is my future and all those dreams I have about it...
These worlds are composed of "subworlds," if you will, splitting my already di- (wait, what's the prefix meaning "six"?) hexchotomized life into about 17 worlds total. No big deal though. I mean, who doesn't have a bazillion different aspects of life that they must learn to balance, connect, and interweave with each other? The hard part for me is the switching over... how do you get to 17 different worlds in one day... ok, one month even? Physically is hard enough (if you can figure out how to get me from a meeting ending at 6:30 to a life group starting at 6, on time, let me know), BUT the hardest is mentally... My mind is like a nail... it's all about the depth, people. Start driving it into something and the goal is to get deep enough so that whatever needs to be connected (or hung) is CONNECTED (or HUNG!). Sometimes I wish my mind could be more like that wide packaging tape... so much surface area... "let's just get all the bases covered and focus on the next destination"...ya know, that kind of thing.

But no. I dig. And to uproot me just when I'm getting started...? shoot, talk about getting hit on the head with a hammer over and over again all day long. It's not a SUPER huge deal--I just haven't found my groove yet. I just need to figure out this "dance of life" (was that a song?). Anyway, Heaven help me, my many worlds WILL get more than whatever can just connect them at the edges!!!
uh.... well, only if Heaven helps me that is...
Maybe that's why I'm writing this... let's all just pray that Heaven helps me.


Oh.

And if you're wondering...

I LOVE those wonderful worlds in which I dwell... In the "school" arena: I LOVE my classes (almost all of them!), my friends, worship for chapel (my team and my supervisor--Travis O--you rock). In the "home" arena: I LOVE LOVE LOVE my family (my parents, sisters, and niece and nephew !), my long-time friends, even my highschool. In the "church" arena: I don't even know where to start--worship, lifegroups, friends/family, dreams and visions, realities--I LOVE the Stirring!

So this is the part at the end of it all where I just say, "My many worlds... ROCK." And I wouldn't trade them for... the world...???

We love.

Gotta admit... I'm having a hard time with the fact that it's my own voice I'm listening to in this thing... but the cinematography of/heart behind this video has me obsessed. Awesome job, Nate.

I love.


We love. from the Stirring on Vimeo.

Broken Lives are Made New

This line is from a song we sang tonight at the welcome chapel: "In Your Kingdom broken lives are made new...You make us new." It's a familiar song--"Hosanna" by Paul Baloche--but it just became one of my favorites. There are songs you sing to God that describe attributes of Him; there are songs you sing to God that praise Him DIRECTLY. There are songs that narrate our own journey, there are songs that request and pray... and then there are the songs that do all of those things--and in a way that flows naturally from the heart of the worshiper. "Hosanna" was one of those songs tonight that, as a leader of songs sung to God, I found flowing out of my heart, mind, and mouth as a genuine praise and prayer for our Simpson community this year. I came to find I'm not the only one who lifted up the "broken lives are made new" phrase over our campus tonight. A few of us recognize this call for God's Kingdom to intersect and heal the oppressed of this generation--and indeed It does. We recognize that He is stirring up hope and turning eyes to Himself; we know that we are yearning for Him. We know that "Hosanna" means "Save!" and that He most assuredly is our Savior...


We see the story of His heart seeking out ours,
We hear the sound of His praise rising from crowds,
We recognize His saving power and ask His Kingdom to come...
For He IS the God--He is the ONE.

When we see Him, we find strength to face the day--In His presence all our fears are washed away.
Hosanna! Hosanna! He is the God who saves us, worthy of all our praises.
Hosanna! Hosanna!

"Come have Your way among us...
...We welcome You here, Lord Jesus."

May this be the praise on the lips of Simpson this year. May this be the prayer of the incoming class.

Why does the hall smell like poo?

There are many smells we encounter throughout our day. Take a moment to think about some of your favorites... warm, freshly baked bread, clean laundry tumbling out of the dryer into your ready basket, the shower room after your roommate has obviously used her soy-and-almond-butter body wash in it, or (if you're a guy) something manly like... aftershave... (I obviously wouldn't know). My guess is that whether you added to this list in your head or have decided that, "Yes, soy-and-almond-butter body wash aroma is DEFINITELY on my top ten," a hall that smells like poo is probably NOT considered a "fav." of yours. Well, then don't come over to third floor Morgan right now. I have no idea what happened (though I am imagine "it" would have happened in a nearby resident's bathroom), but when I stepped out into our hall this afternoon the first thing that popped into my head was, "Why does the hall smell like poo?" In a very detective-like but non-anticipatory way, I scanned the floor and ceiling for some sort of sewage evidence. Maybe I thought I'd see a pipe sticking out of the baseboard--leaking, dripping, a small acidic pool forming and eating a hole through the carpet...
But there is no pipe sticking out of our wall. My imagination can sometimes get a little crazy...
So I wonder if the world has turned upside down and, suddenly, it is the girls' residence halls that will be known for their smelly-ness! Surely, this cannot be! I mean, we have our days, but "flowers and fruity body spray" MUST remain the staple scent of female living quarters! Boys' dorms smell like poo! Not Third-Floor Morgan-Sharpe.

So I'm grabbing the Glade "Ocean Blue" from my (non poo-smelling) bathroom...

Here's to "1 hour!" of the world being right again.

"What's gonna happen next?!"

It's approximately 8:26pm, and I'm sitting on the first-floor lobby couch watching an old episode of LOST. Libbie is FREAKING OUT because, as of three days ago, she'd never seen them...and now I'm wondering if I really should have given her my Season 1 to borrow. But, almost to Season 2, she's knee-deep in constant thoughts and a determined mindset concerning these characters, who've yet to have their full stories told. I think about how we get caught up so easily in such things.... strange adventures, broken lives, stories...stories...STORIES. Don't we love stories? the Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia, Harry Potter, Star Wars, (and up and coming) the Host... plus, there are all those TV series. We live in the land of "TV Series Galore." But what would we do without them????? (maybe engage in our own lives more often? ...nahhh)

Well anyway, the TV people know what they're doing with this whole "series" thing. I think they caught on to the pattern of humans liking some kind of movement towards the unknown... the unknown of someone's past, the unknown of someone's future... maybe we would call it "potential," because it is a reality that "could be" but that has not yet been realized. And it's all UNFOLDING... ahhh, the unfolding... like a nice little suspense-filled gift. Except, the unfolding of a TV character's potential could end in a reality that none of us would ever really want... or, it could be the ending that all of us would hope for. Either way, it is not OUR unfolding story, so we're not stuck with the conclusion if we don't like it. Maybe that's really why we watch these so much... to get the unfolding without the fear of it ACTUALLY being our own lives that such terrible things are happening to. And then there's the part of us that lives vicariously through the extraordinary feats and treasures discovered in their "lives." Which makes us a tad jealous--but the vicariousness satisfies for the moment. Which makes me think... ya know how people say, "That'll never happen to me"? Maybe it's cause they're too busy watching it happen to a character instead...
...Of course, I'll probably never kick-butt like Kate, or "heal" like Claire, but the more real things--of broken lives being redeemed, of victories, of love, of humor and unlikely friendship--those could happen to me....if I engage in a TRUE story (one much greater than myself).


...But for now, at 9:13pm, I'll just let Hurley have all the bad luck--cursing the numbers that made him wealthy--and still watch Libbie freak out as that burning question stirs her mind... "What's gonna happen next?!"

Here's a question...

...As asked by Jesus:

"What do you think?
There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, 'Son, go and work today in the vineyard.'
'I will not,' he answered, but later he changed his mind and went.
Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, 'I will, sir,' but he did not go.
Which of the two did what his father wanted?"
--Matthew 21:28-31



I was just thinking about this question today. And I'm not going to use literary technique as a scapegoat. Plain and simple--quite literally in fact--I do not do what the Father wants very often; but I tell Him "I will" just as much.

Of course, I'm not perfect. But I bet Jesus would like me to give heed to His words sometimes. Even the hard ones. Maybe ESPECIALLY the hard ones. So that's what I'm doing right now.