Oh, Grace!

A poem that overflowed into my journal while reading A Praying Life by Paul E. Miller in the context of my life, in light of Jesus' life, and the weight of impact of the gospel.

Oh, Grace!

Vortex of peace,

limitless capacity

to consume my trespasses.

How well you know my captivity.

You were not given to the free but given for freedom!

My back breaking efforts to earn you has gotten me

No closer to success but rather created a deficiency 

Even more in need of you.

Mind boggling paradox,

Such simplicity.

I need grace to dwell on the fact that 

If I try out of my own strength

I am neglecting the gift itself

but if I sit in awareness

Of my brokenness and accept such love consideration

I am more intune with reality!

What joy! 

What freedom (!) from the very entanglements

I am acknowledging.
Haha!

I do not laugh at the depths of this provision

But because of the liberation it has caused.

Oh to dance! To engage!

To pour out and ask to be poured into,

Without fear of fault, as fault is inevitable,

But ransomed, redeemed already.

Oh sing all of you 

Whose hearts have been renewed to childishness, sing!!

Humility and Grace in the wake of Disoriented Striving

I sit here humbled, by my own photographs. Not ones I have taken recently, but ones I took 4 years ago. They are filled with wonder and excitement! For things that have been around since the world was created, but some how still fresh and full of life.

It is a little humbling to even admit that. There is an innocence in an artist undiscovered. Having never been compared to anything, you can fly away with your wonder of the world, capture things that you might otherwise second guess or think might be odd.

There is a balance to be found here. There is a danger, but also a discipline in being labeled "photographer" or "artist". If we have an understanding for these words then there is a model in your mind of what they should be.  Because people see me as a capable photographer I have been asked to take on the job and preform a task they wouldn't ask a butcher, a plumber, or a nanny to do. In turn that has driven me to keep up and grow in a hobby that otherwise may have fallen away or grown stagnant.

However, it also makes me aware of the fact that I'm striving for something. [I'd like to clarify that growing in excellence in something is not a fault. No one would have hired a 5 year old to paint the sistine chapel. I am referring to striving for the sake of satisfying human desires and pleasing man instead of being a good steward of your gift and practicing your passion. Distinct difference in the heart.]

I find this same distinction in my heart so often with Christ. What a blessing and leap of faith it is to be called into leadership positions and be given responsibility in the church! But how dangerous it can be when we start pouring our own thoughts and understandings into our spheres of influence and responsibility. Probably even more dangerous and more common in my life, is to say what I think someone needs to hear because I feel I need to composite something (because, I mean...I'm the leader/more experienced believer/more gifted in whatever, right? That's why I'm here, yeah? [Not necessarily--and that's not how Jesus thinks of us]), rather than what the Holy Spirit has composited in my heart to share with them.

We should not do for the sake of doing, pleasing, or displaying our worth, but because we have been gifted, because we are passionate, because we have been provided discipline and opportunity. 

How do we achieve that? Praise Jesus, because He cares so deeply about our hearts! About our thoughts! He wants us to maintain a raw existence before Him. But like Psalm 103 says: "for He Himself knows our frame, He is mindful that we are but dust", and has given provision for when we do not maintain a vulnerable heart before Him. His Son has crested us with a perfect character before the Lord, which credits us complete grace in this growth.

My prayer for myself of late is that I would be given and called to shoes too big for my mind to imagine I could fill. Because then I hope I will not even be able to attempt to fill them on my own.
The human imagination has great capacity, who am I to think I can satisfy a desire conjured up by that? We can't satisfy each other, but be used to nudge towards the One who can.

And ultimately if we do not call out for Jesus (but rather for other things, or each other) with our every breath, we need Him more than we are aware.
If all we do is not means for drawing closer and knowing Him better, than it is all in vain.

A trip for toilet paper, a reminder of God's faithfulness

Leaving my evening activities my heart was somewhat heavy tonight--just realizing there are people here to help me, and take care of me when I'm in need. However, there is no one in my life who is physically and tangibly a provider currently in my life.

[note: this is not the fault of anyone in my life, it is just a season where no one is called to fulfill that role in my life in the way I hope someone, someday, will be called.] I then had to go to the store (which, when alone, especially at night, is a despised chore). HEB was closed, so I had to go to CVS--something I do about every leap year. 

There I met "Mr. R". He's from here, his family lives down the street…but he's been to countries I've never been to! He hinted at tales that intrigued this well traveled heart. He had tidbits from his Easter to share that spoke into the role of parenting. He genuinely cared and was unintimidated by my history as a missionary kid who spent the majority of her life in a country he wasn't 100% sure where was located. And spoke fondly of the influence diverse cultures bring to a person's mind.

It was a very unexpected little conversation and I share my surprise in it in relation to my heavy heart to prove this point: God is faithful, by all means, to elaborately illustrate that His love abounds for you.

I'm not saying there was something deeply spiritual about my random interaction with a CVS worker, but then again…am I?

I'm saying it was deeply significant for me because I had been feeling overly independent and not desiring that and like the depth of my soul was a bit too far away for anyone to truly care about. But then boom! A random conversation about things that I can't often talk about in College Station. Demonstrating that God FULLY understands my needs--more than I do. And can meet them--BETTER than I can imagine.

Our imagination likes to deceive us into thinking we have to hold on or all will fail. In reality our grip can and often is a hinderance and our security is frequently immobilizes growth and faith. Like a child held by the Father, we are better off relaxing in trust and peace then arching our back in self-made expectation.

Psalm 36:7 & 8

How precious is Your steadfast love, O God! 

The children of men take refuge and put their trust under the shadow of Your wings.

They relish and feast on the abundance of Your house; 

and You cause them to drink of the stream of Your pleasures.

Purify my heart

Let me be as gold and precious silver

Purify my heart

Let me be as gold, pure gold

Refiner's fire

My heart's one desire

Is to be holy

Set apart for You, Lord

I choose to be holy

Set apart for You, my Master

Ready to do Your will

Purify my heart

Cleanse me from within

And make me holy

Purify my heart

Cleanse me from my sin

Deep within

A Starlit Dance

My joy is on a growth spurt,

About to rip through the clothing
That is my chest cavity

Driving to the sounds of Beirut's East Harlem

They tempt to burst my ear drums

This Texas night's story is told by its smells

Soil, horse manure, skunk and spring

The quality of my driving is equal to that of a drunkards

Dizzied, simply by existence

Awed by the grand functioning of life

Straining to be heard

By myself

Over my own music 

I realize

The frogs would be better at 

Harmony than I

Slowing, 

So the trumpets and accordions
Bring this moment to a close

(Rather than my arrival at destination)

I smile at passers by,

If only they could share this moment

By hearing a glimpse of my ruckus

But how does one share the joy in their heart?

Upon return the duffle bag of laundry

Is left forgotten in the back seat

It had once been the purpose in flight

Now replaced

As if the trip were all for the sake of

Coloring my cheeks

Giggling, I return for the bag

Because…was it not? 

I disguise my childish delights 

With the face of responsibility

The Importance and Cultivation of Wonder

“What is the value of preserving and strengthening this sense of awe and wonder, this recognition of something beyond the boundaries of human existence? Is the exploration of the natural world just a pleasant way to pass the golden hours of childhood or is there something deeper?

I am sure there is something much deeper, something lasting and significant. Those who dwell, as scientists or laymen, among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life. Whatever the vexation or concerns of their personal lives, their thoughts can find paths that lead to inner contentment and to renewed excitement in living. Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is symbolic as well as actual beauty in the migration of the birds, the ebb and flow of the tides, the folded bud ready for the spring. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature–the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after the winter.”

–Rachel Carson, excerpted from “The Sense of Wonder”

[Pictures that make me wonder]

Sand, like the shoulders of a person

I thought I would explain why I see Wonder and it's cultivation so important. 

But...I then wrote a poem about it. This is the first draft unedited, 

so the words are not as precise as I want. 

I think over all though, it communicates what I was trying to. 

So for now I will leave you with that.

My Mind Is a House, 

Constantly Caught In Life (Which Is a Tornado)

With Confusion as a resident

The house is dark, heavy

Turning the storm from adventure to burden

A medium of destruction

Confusion is not invited,

it takes time, but I muster-up

The confidence to inform it that

"There is no room here,

for your shadows and distractions.

I am finished reassembling the furniture

and books to match reality.

Be gone!"

Wonder shares none of Confusions

Qualities except that she can

take up residence within the same space.

Kaleidoscopic thoughts of excitement and awe.

Thoughts like helium, making all lighter.

With Wonder as an occupant of the mind

all the questions in the world are an opportunity,

Not a chore.

From Curiosity, Wonder develops into delight

in the thunderstorm of new experiences

Where once Confusion made all

a cycle of teenage self-appointed/self-exploration of

purpose

and

meaning

with Angst as a companion.

How quickly the two come and go:

Confusion and Wonder

Making my mind a hotel, instead of a home.

I should learn to meet 

Confusion and it's companions for lunch,

Sacred should be the invitation in.

I always forget to close the door.