Sunday, September 27, 2009

simple joys

"All the loveliest things there be, come simply, so it seems to me."

While I don't necessarily agree with this fruity statement, there is some partial truth to it. When I am on campus for long periods of time and can't escape the rigors of academia, it absolutely makes my day to walk outside and see it raining. Or how about finding Sharpies in between the couch cushions, or an old note wedged inside of a notebook. Scheduled life is thrown into an incredible adventure simply because of a few simple pleasures.

A few days ago, my cousin and her fiance challenged some of our family members, via a youtube post, to a Muddy Buddy race in Dallas this October. Of course, Blake and I were already registered and training, but the challenge gave us reason to respond with vigor. For your enjoyment, here is our response, Team Ferrari.


And while you're at it, take a look at my favorite pick of the week:

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Two things.

Two things.


One. I ate dinner with my left hand tonight and it was surprisingly hard. Playing the game "bullmoose" should become a regular occurrence at roommate dinners, in my opinion.


Two. My ornery roommate insists that I mention her in my blog, hence, here lies crucial information about Lindsay Mitchell that I have acquired over the years, simply from observing her existence on a daily basis.

1. Generally, she comes in the door on her phone, keeping up with the rest of the world (I am pretty positive it is always people from camp, judging by the smile that's on her face when she hangs up).
2. She could spend hours playing Word Warp or Text Twist - and sometimes does.
3. She shamelessly loves LOST. Fast Forward is an upcoming new favorite as well.
4. She's a deal-maker.
5. Differential Equations got NOTHIN on her. I have never seen another person so intently focus on a page full of numbers in one sitting.
6. She prefers to study with headphones in and Alias or Rent playing in the background, and still manages to somehow focus.
7. She loves being intentional but hates scheduled intentional time.
8. She is one of the coolest people I know.


Also, I've been chewing on this. Enjoy.

"Oh that I might apprehend that for which also I am apprehended." -Jim Elliot




Thursday, September 24, 2009

more on change...


You know, the first time I smoked hookah I broke the resevoir.The sheesha went flying and ashes spread all the way across some dude's living room floor. As if my coughing at every puff wasn't sign enough that I was out of my usual circle of comfort, my uneasy giggle and shoeless feet screamed "newbie."

It was an adventure. Everything about it was new and exciting. This obsession with fresh, change, might get me in trouble soon. It is not too conducive to solid schedules or disciplined lessons learned. It does, however, make for a few unplanned excitements (as long as interruptions are deemed opportunities) - Like LJ's trip to the hospital, or Schnook's need to saran wrap the FJ in the middle of the night. ..
And as exciting as late night endeavors are, the next morning always kills. It is a matter of deciding whether the "buzz" is really worth it. . .
Last night I had the privilege of sharing in a room of strangers, all singing freely to our God, strumming guitars, painting canvases, some were having intentional conversations, and others reading scripture. And while I didn't know the ins and outs of these people's lives, we shared a common bond. We all serve the same God.

El Roi. The God Who Sees Me.

Despite change of circumstance or attitude, despite efforts and failed attempts, he sees me as HIS.

I will no doubt continue to enjoy change on a daily basis in my life, but I hesitate to forget the grace that places me in the position I am today. Redeemed. No matter how many new artists rock my world or flavors of sheesha there continue to be, I will rest in the fact that my God remains the same, and his view of me does not change based on how exciting or new I am.

"Hagar called the name of the LORD who spoke to her, "A God of seeing," for she said, "Truly here I have seen him who looks after me." And the well was called this, The God who sees."
Genesis 16:13-14

Monday, September 21, 2009

Change

We are all imperfect. I think a proper amount of change is always necessary because we will never reach completion, that is, until we are justified, finally. But here lies my fascination with change. It is somewhat necessary, but never fully fulfills its goal. How can something so loaded with fear to some and promising of adventure to others, break ground with such a powerful force? Still, we need it. So why is change important?

Because I serve a God to whom no change is required.

So while my emotions change more times than my mood ring in August, my God remains constant. And how awesome it is to serve a King that will ALWAYS be the same, so that I might NEVER be the same.

"Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. " Hebrews 13:8


Thursday, September 17, 2009

needtobreathe

If it wasn't already the name of an incredible band I would claim that phrase as my own. Beckon calls would be doubled with needtobreathe; because we all do.

I am an incredibly talented procrastinator. I watch Ellen DeGeneres' comedy routine about procrastination and cannot control my laughter - partly because she is hilarious and partly because her message about procrastination holds a conduit to my own organizational structure. It gets to the point of no return, though, where so much has been put off that there is no longer time for breathing, only doing. No more breaks can be enjoyed, no late night spontaneity, and definitely no quality time with people, because there is too much to get done.

Basically, I just need to breathe.

I wasted a whole lot of great time tonight enjoying the simple pleasure of looking at photography. I sat on a porch and popped some grapes in my mouth as I thought about what it means to wait on the Lord. I even decoupage'd a little more of the tree that resides on my right corner wall, but I never got around to studying. Funny, how that happens.

Tomorrow will come and i will wake, undoubtedly after my alarm has gone off a solid four times before, and I will be rushed to cram into my brain as much useless information on data processors as I possible can... all in order to regurgitate it back onto a recycled piece of notebook paper that somehow claims its stake on a portion of my intelligence. I am almost offended.

Nonetheless, I will need to breathe tomorrow. Just like I need to breathe tonight, and the next, and the next. Maybe as I work on perfecting my now ornery procrastination skills, I will learn to be thankful for each breath as well, and breathing will become a reminder - that constantly, I need to stop, I need to rest, I need to breathe.

"Even when the rain falls, even the flood starts rising, even when the storm comes, I am washed by the water. " -needtobreathe

Monday, September 14, 2009

Pikachu

Two guys sat in front of me at a coffee shop today playing Pokemon... Legit pokemon with collectors cards and everything. I learned more about pros and cons of WOW vs. Starcraft in my fifty minute session on the couch than I ever would have in my own efforts to stay updated with technology. I mean, they clearly loved the game. About Pokemon, these boys were passionate. Everything in me wanted to sit down next to them and lay down a Gym Hero - Gust of Wind and watch them be amazed at my noob tendencies, but I remained hidden behind my studies of foramina.

Literally two hours before, my edgy-a-line-cut-eye-lined waitress at lunch sat down at our table and said, and I quote, "Girrrrrl, whatchu wont'n to be eating today? I got some mean ritas waiting in the back for girls just like you." We thoroughly enjoyed our lunch, sin her suggestions, but truly benefitted from her utter lack of concern for sterotyped judgments. Had I not had the privilege of talking to her just a little bit, I would have easily placed her in a labeled shelf somewhere near the "eccentric outsiders searching for molded acceptance." And how crumby that would have been, to strip her of any common sense of unique dignity anyone deserves. This girl was unlike anyone I had met before, and I immediately scolded her for being any different, while secretly wished I was naturally as outgoing as she seemed.

There I was, in both cases, observing somewhat from a sideline, weighing the cost of joining in against the status quo, and resigning finally to common, normal, acceptance. I have decided that it reeks. It's lame. It means nothing in the grand scheme of things to be normal. Infact, it disgusts me.

So next time I overhear the word Pikachu, I am hopping right in with my Wondercard. Who knows, maybe I will learn something about being uninhibitedly passionate. Pretend anime character or not; I can definitely learn something from their followers.

"I have made you a holy nation, a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the excellencies of Him who called you out of darkness and into his marvelous light." 1 Peter 2:9



Sunday, September 13, 2009

all the small things

Cracks are small. You know, something like the small spaces separating pieces in an old wood floor, or the slats in an annoyingly built picnic table. The only thing that can fall through a small crack is something that is equally as small or smaller, right? Its only logical.

Size means nothing in regards to importance, though. I once had to take a knife to the crevices in a wooden deck and slowly grind out all of the dirt caked in the cracks. While it was very evident that the dirt would just find its way back into the hiding places, the exercise of scraping the dirt was less about the effectiveness of work and more about realizing that even small things count - the small things that generally fall through the cracks.

I don't want to be that person that is so uptight with details that an uncapped toothpaste sends them into postpartum, but I also do not want to falter when it comes to being intentional in all things- especially the small things.

And that is tiring.

So here is my warning (and challenge). The precedent has been set, laced throughout pages of breathed truth, and testified in every ounce of love that has been expressed. Clearly, when our lives are wholeheartedly devoted to glorifying ONE, the rest of our kerfluffle falls by the wayside. We are to do all things with purpose and love, and not let any opportunity pass us by. But there is something to be said of balance. Sacrifice. So here goes. The phrase that blew my mind this morning and seems a little crazy.

Don't sweat the small stuff.

How freeing is that?

"But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appears, He saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. " Titus 3:4


Friday, September 11, 2009

ovens.

I think I am kind of like an oven.

Take for instance, my mom's amazing cake. It takes time. Certain parts of the cake are really tasty at first, but if you rush the baking process, the entire consistency is all messed up, and you are left with a sloshy goo of gritty batter (the batter is generally incredibly yummy, but that is beside the point).

I am always really anxious to eat the best parts of the cake that I rarely wait the full bake time in order that it be cooked all the way through - and when I pull the test tooth-pick out, residue is indubitably left on the wooden stick.

Waiting is a rough process. I will wait. Someone told me those very words the other night with such peace and confidence and I was blown away. Waiting requires hope that the end product will be far more satisfying and well worth what you are currently passing up. Sometimes hoping against all hope. Paul reminds the churches in Romans to cling to hope in hard times and good, remembering always exactly what we have been redeemed from. So regardless of my desires toward immediate gratification and happiness, the reward is far outweighed by the end result.

I know full well that many processes in my life require time and equal attention. Similar to an oven. Actually, just like an oven. I am learning to wait, as hard as it is, till the toothpick comes out clean. The cake is way better that way.

"You, by the help of your God return, hold fast to love and justice, and wait continually for your God. " Hosea 12:6

...and it just keeps on comin

You can treat the symptoms and they can flee, but that does not mean that the disease is gone.

How many times have I fallen into the trap of expressing the symptoms of Christianity, rather than ensuring that inside, my condition was addressed by the true Healer? I can get so caught up in going and doing that I forget it is less about what I do and more about who HE is.

"I will lift my eyes to the Maker of the mountains I cant climb.
I will lift my eyes to the Calmer of the oceans raging wild.
I will lift my eyes to the Healer of the hurt I hold inside. "

The fact that it is not about me - that is grace. As long as I lift my eyes, I will not be too concerned with symptoms. What's more - I am no longer diseased. While I may still have hurt inside, I believe it is just residual traces, still being sorted out and molded in the process of sanctification. And grace continues to abound - in showing me adventure, in withholding what my depraved soul deserves, and ultimately in allowing me to be a part of His story. Gosh, I want to overflow with grace. It is cascading toward me; there is no reason I should not be passing that very same love on. I am no longer diseased. Besides, all grace is given for the same sole purpose, right...

"Oh for the GRACE to enjoy the ONE THING NECESSARY." Luke 10:42

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Different. Beautifully Different.

So I really hate the taste of coffee.


An iced mocha, which left much to be desired, left a condensation ring on the wobbly table we claimed as our own. As I sat and watched my friend take consecutive sips of what I consider dreadful espresso ground nonsense, I realized I had forgotten to celebrate one of my favorite things about life.


Differences. Beautiful differences.


I hate coffee. She loves it. I am annoyed with whiny music. She loves it. However, it is good. I absolutely love that everyone is different. Every day that I am blessed with another breath is different. Really, without the differences, I wouldn't appreciate our similarities; and without the difficulties, the successes would be nil. It is when something is different that it catches our attention.


I rejoice in differences. Not for the sake of just being different, but because differences mean we are not perfect. They separate us from what is normal. They signify what we are and whose we are. All in order that we may be His. That is a difference I can love.


"You shall be holy to me, for I the Lord am holy and have separated you from the peoples, that you should be mine. " Leviticus 20:26