Pondering Promises: A Return to Blogging

Hello blog friends! It has been a while...not quite the 3 years that this blog suggests (I blogged in 2012 at another address), but still longer than it should have been. It's been a season where it's been hard to muster up the inspiration to write. I've felt convicted, as if I'm not using all that I've been given, but also uninspired. As I presented that excuse to The Lord today, He answered by mightier inspiration than I've felt in a while. I'm choosing to update this blog instead of my other as I feel that my best work has been posted here. I hope that continues through His Holy inspiration that I've seen today. 

A.W. Tozer once said "What we think about when we think about God is the most important thing about us." Our perceptions about God vary based on a many different factors...what we have read in His word. been taught at church and by our families, how we were raised, how we feel God has responded (or not) in our circumstances, both past and present.   Each of these creates a layer in our faith, determining how we view not only God but all things in our walk with him. Like an onion, each layer flavors our faith, either with sweetness or bitterness, and determines what we think about God, also determining everything else about us. 

While many of these things are good, Satan uses others to keep us from growing in depth and intimacy with The Lord. Curves life throws at us, our timing being different from God's, God not answering our prayers in the way we think can all impact what we think about God, as well as our walks with Him.

How could focusing on His promises help that? If I truly meditated on His revelation of Himself to us through scripture, how would that impact my walk with Him? How would I grow with him? How could He transform my view of situations? How would it impact what I thought of Him, and therefore everything else in my life? 

So here is my Summer Experiment… taking one promise each week, meditating on it, chewing on it, thinking and praying through it, focusing on it and the quality God reveals through it each week and seeing what He teaches me about Himself and how he transforms us to be more like His Son. As my view of Him is more correct, what else would that impact? So….here goes pondering promises! 

Picture of Purpose

I love art. Monet, Renoir, Van Gogh, Picasso...even modern art, such as Pollock, has a soft spot in my heart. My mother instilled this love in me at an early age. When I was in elementary school, my mom would take me on a mother/daughter date to whatever was on exhibit at the Kimball Art Museum in Fort Worth. I listened with excitement and anticipation as the docent discussed minute details, imperfections and hidings of paintings both old and new. I soaked up symbolism and color like a sponge. We also were fortunate enough to have art docents at our school. One of my favorite works, and one that was most fascinating to me, was "Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte" by Georges-Pierre Seurat. Seurat employs a technique called pointillism, where he painted millions upon billions of tiny dots of very distinct and contrasted colors. The human eye miraculously blends these hundreds of colors together to form a single hue of distinctive color. Each dot was meticulously placed, each color carefully chosen  for a purpose: to blend and manufacture a masterpiece.

Purpose is an interesting concept. To me, it answers the question "why?" it is the reason you're running down the road of life that you've chosen or been placed on. The dictionary defines purpose as "1. the reason for which something exists or is done/made 2. An intended or desired result or aim 3. determination; resoluteness." The bible has many things to say about purpose. I love the way Paul describes it in Ephesians 1:3-10:

Spiritual Blessings in Christ
³  Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, ⁴  even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love ⁵  he predestined us^[a] for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, ⁶  to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. ⁷  In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace,⁸ which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight ⁹  making known^[b] to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ ¹⁰ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

God's ultimate purpose is salvation, as Christ came to save us all. (Romans 3:23 ESV, Romans 11:32 ESV)

Specifically, too, Christ has given each believer unique gifts to "be His hands and His feet." As Paul writes in Romans 12:4-8:

⁴ For as in one body we have many members,^[a] and the members do not all have the same function, ⁵ so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individuallymembers one of another. ⁶  Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; ⁷ if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; ⁸ the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads,^[b] with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness.

Verses 5b-6 have really been on my heart recently. The Holy Spirit has been relentlessly revealing to me the importance of us using what's been gifted to us, as the "body" both literally and spiritually speaking, cannot functions properly without each part doing what it's been created to do.

I've been focusing on ways to wrap my human mind around a God-sized purpose. The best way God has shown me is by thinking of life as "Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte." We are each one dot. One minuscule yet undeniably and incredibly important part of this enormous painting was can't yet fully see (1 Corinthians 13:12). Sure, we see those dots around us- we know their colors, if they're changing, what they're doing, but only the Master, the Designer, the omniscient Artist can see, and create, the masterpiece. Each of us dots has a purpose- to be the color He painted us, the color He created us to be. Whether it's red, yellow, green, magenta, cerulean, a color similar or different to those around us, in being this color, we fulfill our place, our purpose, in the Master's Masterpiece. Sure, sometimes we tint ourselves another color, we see others and turn into their color, a color we were never intended to be, but our Master painter is faithful and good to repaint us back to the color we intended. He is the Perfect Painter, which we also were never intended to be. We must surrender our control to Him, as He is flawless and faithful to paint us in the way we were intended. We must continue to have faith when it becomes difficult to not change color, trusting that He can see the whole picture and that, one day, we will see it, too.

I'm thankful to be part of the masterpiece. I pray that I fulfill my purpose in His masterpiece instead of trying to fit Him into my own.

Tangible Time

My last semester in grad school, I was able to do an independent study with two of my good friends and a lady who we referred to as “the goddess of Autism.” She was an expert, to put it plainly, and knew more than we could wrap our minuscule minds around. She had researched, published, done therapy with, and invested in thousands upon thousands of children with Autism, and is now writing curriculum on how to start a preschool classroom to foster their language development. There is a lot of time and analysis that goes into this, because since children with Autism struggle to learn language and use it to communicate, you must make sure that the words that you introduce to them are both functional to use and simple to learn. My friends and I, therefore, spent weeks analyzing her words. I’m sure you’re yawning at the thought of this, but we were completely captivated. We loved counting, categorizing, and graphing the word types and numbers. It was gripping, and we were hooked. One day, while talking with Dr. Rollins about our analysis, we got to talking about words to begin and end an activity, which we noted as “time words.” Dr. Rollins told us that the time words were difficult to explain because time is arbitrary, as are words, and those words are our attempt to make time into something tangible, to place restrictions on it so that we could understand, explain and use it.

It’s literally taken me months to wrap my brain around this concept. This concept of time that so governs my life isn’t even something that I could put my index finger on, yet I feel the need to create boundaries to it. We live and die by planners, schedules, bedtimes and alarms to wake us up. We do everything in our power to know where it goes, and make sure it is going to the right things, places, people and events. I’ve been known to think of my day like a pie graph and try to a lot every hour to something. At the end of every month (it is February 26, technically 27 because it is the middle of the night), I think to myself, “Goodness gracious, where as the month gone? How is it almost over.” We seek to hold on as it slips away, yet wish for it to pass more swiftly. We want to control it. I yearn to control it.

I have learned that God and time have a fascinating relationship. They are similar in that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they both exist. I cannot see either of them, but I can see results of them both. I witness miracles, glory and the restoration of God; I witness time’s effect on people. I cannot control God, and I cannot control time. But luckily, He can control time and my life. Things run more smoothly when He controls them. He was intended to control both. And He does.

Throughout the past 6 months, but more specifically in 2011, God has continued to build my faith and reveal his sovereignty and flawless timing to me. I have felt like a Stretch Armstrong action figure at times, as he has no doubt stretched me, making me wonder (being completely transparent in this confession) if He did, in fact, know what He was doing. But he has arranged events, like a composer orchestrates the parts of each and every instrument of a symphony, into something breathtakingly beautiful. To remind me He was, and is, there and in control, He placed various events and people into my life, like a lovely flute trill or trombone fall in an orchestra, to remind me of his presence and care. During my most difficult and trying hours, His presence was so evident that it left me in awe, listening and wanting more. He lead me to realize that my attempts to make time, and more importantly His time, neat and packaged into a box, took away from it’s beauty, it’s perfection, and it’s inherent characteristics. And ultimately took away from His purpose and glory, which is really the point of it all.

He has taught me that His timing is perfect and control is unwavering. Even though I can’t always see it through the haze, that he is continually working (which is a subject for another blog). I find peace in that. Basking in His peace, anxiously awaiting His next move, His next stretch of my faith, and His next revelation of His divinity to me.

Celebrate Me Home

Confession: Kenny Loggins will always have a special place in my heart. Odd, I know. "Footloose" has never failed to make me smile, and hearing "Danger Zone" brings back fond memories of watching "Top Gun" with my fourth grade best friends and discussing how cute Tom Cruise was, even though it was made before we were born and Tom could practically have been our dad. The real reason Kenny tugs at my heart came a little later in my life. It was the scorching summer of 2005, and my life was on the brink of change. Major change. I had graduated from high school, and was about to embark on a wonderful journey to Waco to begin college. I was stuck in that odd in between place that most high school graduates find themselves in between graduation and moving away from home… realizing that you are fitting in less and less with high school friends, but not knowing who else my age to spend time with.

That summer I spent most evenings with my mom. We had been (and still are) very close, but grew even closer that summer. Many nights, we sat at starbucks sipping on grande java chip frappacino lights double blended and contemplating the change I was about to go through. While cleaning out her car one afternoon, mom discovered "Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow," Kenny Loggins' greatest hits CD, and quite a fitting title for the time in my life. We put it in the CD player in June and didn't take it out. Every song reminded us of something. I remember listening to "Forever" and silently sobbing one evening, wondering if life would ever feel normal again.

My all-time favorite Kenny Loggins song would have to be "Celebrate Me Home." Something about it comforts me, like home. Throughout college, I would coincidentally hear it as I crossed the bridge between I-35 to I-20, which always signified to me that I was home. This Thanksgiving, I had just said my good-byes to my family, packed my last bag into my car, and slammed the door shut on the Liberty, when the song came on the radio. Overcome with emotion due to the fact that I was leaving, I teared up and immediately called my mom. I shared the ironic event I'd just experienced, and hurried back to Plano. But a strange thing happened…as I frantically sped down Midway, not a mile from my apartment, the exact song that had so reminded me of Arlington not an hour before came on again. Chills crept up my spine, and I realized that this felt like more than a coincidence.

Arlington will always hold a special place in my heart. I grew up there. I learned some of my greatest life lessons there. I even discovered Kenny Loggins there. But it's not where feels like home in the present. Now, Plano feels like home. It feels comfortable, but still as if it is evolving to encourage grown. It feels as if it is right where I ought to be.

I was once told that "Home is being in the center of God's will." If that's true, I know I am home. And I'm glad.

Reflecting in Hope: 2011

New Years makes me reflective and hopeful. Here is the result of that combination:

2011. Wow. I can hardly believe that a new year is upon us. The last time I wrote, I had a feeling that my life was on the cusp of change. That, like the autumn leaves, my life was about to transform and convert to something different. Feelings are funny like that, and a lot of times, your gut is right. The last three months have been bursting at the seams with change unlike any I had experienced previously. I dislike change and crave consistency. I enjoy knowing what comes next and how to prepare. But the funny thing about this season of change was that all of the changes were positive changes. Each change that occurred brought the stress that life revolutions always bring, but blessings all the same.

I feel that the Lord taught me, through these changes, that He is always faithful. Time and time again between October and December, I worried. My stomach knotted and turned. I wasn't sure things would turn out ok. And each time, I felt His hand on my shoulder, comforting me and providing for me. Even though I don't deserve it. Even though I can't comprehend His feelings for me. As my cravings for consistency continue, I have learned this Autumn that the Lord is ultimately consistent, ultimately strong, and ultimately worthy of my faith, trust, and praise.

Even amidst the continuing change, I relish in the expectation that a new year brings. The start of the New Year brings freshness like the sweet scent of laundry detergent leaking from the dryer as soft warm clothes emerge. 2011 brings hope. Not necessarily that it will be an easy year, for I realize that, here in the real world that I am soon to join, changes aren't more rampant, just less expected than in the school world. I think that it's important to reflect upon what happened in the past year in order to prepare for the new, less certain year. Based on 2010, I know that the Lord will be faithful, that He has blessed me beyond my wildest dreams in order that I may bless others by sharing His love, and that serving and knowing Him amidst the change is my heart's utmost desire, and that He brings consistency through his presence.

2010, you were lovely. I am genuinely sad to see you go. 2011, I'm eager to see what you will bring.

Autumn

I love Autumn. Plain and simple. The sound of the word alone spreads a smile to my face. I talk about it constantly. I count down the days until the pumpkin spice latte comes out (which was September 5, if you were wondering)- and then drink them compulsively. My barista, Tom, at the Starbucks I stop at on the way to practicum has already memorized my order, and greets me with a smile and a simple "Is today a grande or venti day?" I relish the feeling of "just air" that Texas Septembers bring, where you can't tell if it is hot or cold. You could literally wear a Northface and jeans or a tank top and shorts and manage to be equally comfortable. But the, being indecisive like Texas weather most always is, the next day will be 90 degrees and humid, once again, and my scorching pumpkin spice latte will have to be iced which just isn't right.

Autumn brings change. The past month, I've felt a change in my heart. Nothing big...minute actually...just a twinge of change, like the leaves gently fluttering from the twigs of trees. They float down one or two at a time, slowly creeping, blowing circularly in the breeze, to the dirt beneath. They show that there is hope for relief from the blistering heat. That's how the change in my heart feels. The most miniscule of changes in thought coupled with gradual shifts in priorities. New convictions. Noticing different things than I would have a year, or even a month, ago. Is this change big or noticable? I doubt it. But it's movement- leading toward the feeling that something big is on the horizon. Do all of the leaves fall off of the trees at once, while the temperature drops 50 degrees in a day? Not usually. But the seasons don't fail to change; they become something new. Gradually.

One of my favorite quotes in all of literature describes Amory Blaine in F. Scott Fitzgerald's This Side of Paradise, in which Blaine is characterized as "dreaming of the becoming, never the being." I would love for my life to be summed up by that quote. As I seek a life of non-complacency, I want to embrace this new season of life. This season of change in the midst of joyful satisfaction. This season of hope. Autumn- I'm glad you've arrived.

controlled comfort

A few weeks back, I decided to make a resolution for my 23rd year. I'll start with a confession-- for the past 21 years, I have gone to sleep every night curled up on my side in the fetal position holding Teddy.

This is Teddy, creative, I know- the Friendship Carebear, circa 1989. My childhood best friend gave it to me for my 2nd birthday. Teddy and I were inseperatable for years. Teddy traveled in the car, to babysitter's houses, to doctor's appointments, to San Antonio, Florida, New York. When I had my tonsils removed when I was 5, I took another bear to the hospital with me because I didn't want Teddy to get hurt. Teddy even spent 4 years at Baylor with me. He's made a lot of pwiends (my 2 year old word for friends, and a common adjective for Teddy). But as of Thursday, as I started my 23rd year, Teddy has had a new home: my closet. After years of comfort during fears and tears, Teddy will live in my closet.

As a child, Teddy was my comfort object, as it is referred to in The Giver. After having my reoccuring nightmare about being chased by a gorilla and not having any defense against it, Teddy was there for me to cling to. Teddy has been bathed by tears on multiple occasions, mourning with me the fact that life was changing, and that going home to Arlington would never be the same again, even though our new home in Waco was so different. Teddy made me feel better as I healed after high school boyfriends and losing love. It seemed as if, no matter what I felt, where I was, or what I was going through, Teddy made it ok. He always brought the comfort and routine I craved. That I think we all crave, even the most spontaneous and free-spirited of us, to some extent. Iappreciate knowing what is coming, knowing what to expect, and those plans coming through.

Sometimes, even with Teddy, my life feels anything but consistent, anything but constant. Projects at work. Something as unpredictable and uncontrollable as traffic. My moods or the moods of others. The tiniest of kinks can throw it all off, it sometimes seems. This leaves mundane, routine lovers devistated, trying to repair the machine we've so thoughtfully and intricately constructed. It leaves us craving that consoling custom we crave.

But where did this notion of comfort come from? Sure, comfort leaves us feeling content, but sometimes almost complacent. Secure. Routine. But at what point did I begin to think this was best? That this was where I was supposed to be?

I remember my junior high youth minister often telling us awkward teenagers to "get out of our comfort zones" and not just follow the crowd. Although the motives are now different at 23 years and 3 days, the same concept appears to ring true in my life. Getting out of my comfort zone, be it at work, school or social situations, seems to be key. It seems to be where I've been placed. And I've spent my summer despising it. Wishing I could feel comfortable. Dreaming of times I didn't feel awkward. But as I've thought more about it lately, I realize that the uncomfortable area seems to be where great things and growth happen. When we are not sure, not comfortable, we seem to be stretched a little further than we thought we could be stretched. Pushed slightly harder than we thought we should be pushed. And what do we do? Adapt. Until we are pushed again, that is. It reminds me of running. You run one mile, and your quads throb the next day. But the day after, you drag yourself out of bed and do it again...and it gets easier and easier, less and less painful each time.

Nothing great happens wtihout great risk. Realizing that the best things come from change, from that place outside of our comfortable and complacent box, and striving to let go of that comfort and consistence is what makes life grand. It's what makes us grow.

Goodbye Teddy. Goodbye comfort. Weclome, growth, change, rejuvination.