Reflections While Hammocking Today

Today.

Summer rays.
The light glinting through my hammock's side, shining on my skin and seeping through my eyelids.
 It's warm, steady, and welcome.
It surrounds me with a steadfast, peaceful calm.

Windy gusts.
Making music as they swirl through the tree leaves, running past my ears.
At times it is so present, powerful, refreshing, and soothing; I get lost in its current.

And then the windy bursts subside. The stillness waits for its return; the eager hush of anticipation gives merit to its value. Waiting.

It is worth the watching.

With recognition the boughs applaud the wind's return.

My mind wanders, and I imagine how You, Your Spirit, and Your Son are like this. Together the sun's rays and the wind's swirls glorify the Day. Each completely independent, yet together as one in complex unity.

I may not ever fully grasp how marvelous You are and how You orchestrate these things,but that is alright. There's growth in the wondering.

Ultimately the summer day, today, glorifies You and sings of Your goodness.

Poetry: the Original Instagram.

I'm deep in a really good book right now; it's called "The Rest of God." I have found this book is refreshing and convicting, directed to the busy life. It's all about pointedly choosing a more peaceful, God-oriented pace of life by honestly resting in Him, instead of allowing the immediate things of the world to fill your plate and cloud your attentions.

I bring this book up, not to brag about the new-found time I have over the summer (although it is quite nice!), nor to advertise for the book (although you really should read it!), but because the author makes an interesting point that got me thinking...

In one portion, the author tells a story of an over-worked friend who wanted to be a better writer. To improve her skills, she enrolled in an evening poetry class. Although skeptical, the author's friend fell in love with the course and the material after the first night. She attributed it to the teacher's charisma and perspective:

 "[the teacher] had an infectious love, not just for words and poems, but for life itself. He relished mystery and simplicity, the quirks of the human heart, creation's whims and flukes and feats. He was childlike with wonder, exclaiming over ordinary things that, for the most of us, have become familiar to the point of invisibility."

 I frequently find myself rushing to the next thing, neglecting the moment, and missing what really is meaningful in the here-and-now. The lesson of this chapter is simple: in what you do (work, rest, pray, eat, socialize, worship, play, etc.), be all there. Be attentive. Pause. Rest. Enjoy. Take it in. This day is a gift, gosh darn it! Sometimes God intercepts us in the going and speaks into our lives, but other times He wants us to sit and wait - really wait - on Him. It takes being still and shaking of the dust of the world.

One way to make this mindset a habit, as the author suggests, is to reflect on the moment with words and poems. Poetry can be a way to cognitively focus on what's around us, a choice to be really here. He shares one of the first poems his friend wrote for her evening poetry class. And guess what? It's about a thumb tack. Not an uber-deep or profound topic, but through her words the short blurb about a metal pin becomes alive with rich meaning and suspense.

The author proposes that poetry is one of the earliest art forms, and that we are all born poets. "The real question is, when did you stop being one?" As worshipers of God, this makes sense. We're created to make God's glory known, and to be full of awe. And mind you, being awestruck means paying attention.

This is even as simple as enjoying the things He's created: Consider the rain racing on the window, or the weight of the humid air on tree boughs; note the folds in your shoes, and the stories each scuff tell; listen to the sound of the dog breathing, and the lingering stink of your hand after petting it ... (I'm rambling, but you get the point).

It's at this juncture in reading that I had a further thought. These descriptions the author writes of the seemingly mundane begin to sound a lot like an instagram picture feed. I think that this is where a lot of our poetic nature has been funneled: to capturing our surroundings with artistic angles and filters. There's nothing wrong with photography (frankly I love it!) but I think it can be argued that, when always used in place of words, it might be a cop-out. 

It sure is convenient to snap a shot in a matter of seconds, and while it may take some thought, it pales in comparison to capturing that same moment with words. Words take thinking. And thinking takes attention.

So this is my challenge to you: amidst the snapshots and hashtags of sunsets and dinner dishes, mix in some time-considered words as well. It's a discipline I'm going to try to incorporate into my life more often, and I hope you will join me. I desire to be a better thinker, and for my words to have more meaning. Ultimately, I hope to be more present, wherever I am (but especially in my times with Him), and more considerate of the things around me.

An Aching Heart

My heart aches for Ukraine. It's hard for me to gather my thoughts, but I'm going to try.

There is so much unrest there, so many people who are acting on injuries which have long-laid dormant. I agree; this pain and injustice up to this point should not go forgotten. I admire their protests and how (initially) they were peaceful and persuasively sincere. Now, however, they have become violent. More government-sent troops to quell the masses of protestors, rocks thrown, clubs swung, and shots fired. I desire so much to see God's Hand work in Mighty ways there for resolution.

As one of my friends, Nick, reported to me in a message online:  

       "Our citizens are being kidnapped by authorities. We still don't know where are the most of them now. Furthermore, in recent days several of activists here were shot dead by Internal Troops. The downtown looks like hell - there's smoke, fire and ashes are everywhere. We've got hundreds of activists injured and taken to hospitals. But police comes there and takes them away in unknown direction."

Picturing Independence Square in this way is painful. I had the tremendous privilege to visit Kiev, Ukraine after graduating High School. This trip played a big part in my life, in so many ways. I made many new friends, and learned that God's kingdom isn't just in little churches in Texas. His people are from everywhere, and He desires that everyone would know Him. Nick is just one of the people I met, and get to pray for now.

Here is a picture from our trip - oh lovely, rainy Kiev. You can't see much of it, but this is the day we visited Independence Square.

My heart is especially hurt when scrolling through my Facebook news feed, and seeing the stark contrast between my friends here in the States and my friends there in Kiev.

There, my friends are posting articles, videos, and statuses calling others to respond and pray. The pictures are vivid, and often violent. I hear that the government in Kiev is moving to close down all access the people have to internet. I hope I will still be able to contact my friends, and that what little voice they have now won't be snuffed out.

Here, where warm weather usually abounds, we've been posting pictures of "Snow! #feelingcold" and icy car windshields. We take pictures of footprints in the frost, artistic angles of the frozen wonderlands. Yes, it's beautiful, and it's different from the Texas heat and worth celebrating.

It's challenging to me, however, to see these posts side-by-side; blissful celebration of snow next to vivid images of burning tires, beaten people, and hurt Ukrainians. Their pictures have snow, too, but they can't enjoy it with the tumult going on around them. The cold weather only makes their protesting more trying, and more difficult.

This issue taking place in Ukraine has received very little attention. I'm not ignorant of the fact that fighting, revolutions, and general unrest are commonplace in the world. So much goes unnoticed by us as we sit bundled in our cozy, comfortable homes here in the USA. I'm guilty of this indifference, too.

Even so, going somewhere will change you. Kiev changed my life. I am honored and joyful to say this. As I watch this place that I love face such trying times with murky solutions, I feel compelled to bring it up. Please research it. (Here's a good place to start: http://www.businessinsider.com/understanding-euromaidan-2014-1)

Don't take it lightly. Believe me when I say that the lives there are actively facing this issue, and it's such a pivotal moment for the country, as well as the individuals. God could step into this time and move in big ways.

Please pray. Kiev needs the Lord, and His Kingdom, peace, and grace. It needs the love found in Christ.

Please pray for ...
... Nick- safety and judgement
... Vitaly and his family with small children - safety and strength to continue directing the UEC
... God's work that is being done in the UEC (Ukrainian Education Center), and for lives to individually be touched here by the gospel (through the Bible Studies, etc)
... the believers there - that they would be a light during this time, and would receive strength and wisdom from the Holy Spirit to point others to Christ
... for Christian leaders to rise up and direct the country
... the protests and unrest - for justice, peace, love, and mercy to abound, through Christ

Thank you. 

Indefinitely Deep and Marvelously Free

Grace. What a precious word. I grew up hearing about grace in multiple ways: in conversation, when describing beautiful sights, and regarding my friend, named “Grace.” I’m not going to lie; the word becomes quite weathered down here in the South. Undoubtedly it’s a popular word, with good reason. 

Someone once told me that grace is, in simple terms, an unmerited, undeserved gift. This made a lot of sense; I knew from my life that I wasn’t perfect, so grace coming from God was a gift I was happy to receive. Jesus “paid for my sins,” right? Totally free – and for those students out there – who doesn’t like free stuff? I jumped for the offer. 

And then … time elapsed. I don’t know about you, but oftentimes I get “cozy” with a word like grace. It becomes casual and familiar. Like an old song on a radio, we hear the word and tune out, change the station, or let our mind drift. “Oh – ‘grace’? Don’t worry God. I know what that is. No need to revisit that.” 

I am thankful because, through my coming to Texas A&M, God opened my eyes to the meaning of grace anew. I love it when He does that. You see, when I applied to A&M I had no idea how I would be paying for it. God had a plan all along, though, and he answered my family’s prayers in a big way.

Shortly after being accepted to A&M, my family was notified of a newly started tuition assistance opportunity based on my dad’s military service. Because he had served in Iraq a number of years ago, as his child I was offered a chance to study without burdening my family with loans or bills.

What a blessing! I was overwhelmed. Why me? My parents were eager that I take the aid. My older siblings, who were already through their college years, also insisted I attend A&M. In so many ways, it seemed too good to be true. And it still is.

It was through this experience of pressing need and God’s provision that He demonstrated His love to me in a fresh, deeper way.

Grace. What a precious word. 

There was nothing I did or could do to contribute to how my tuition would be paid for. It wasn’t like I could go back in time to Iraq and serve in the place of my dad. He had already paid that price. It’s already been done. Like how Jesus Christ lovingly came to earth as a human being and lived a life of love, then died for love on the cross to clean us from our hurt and rose again to life in victory over death: there’s no changing it. What’s done is done. 

My only part to play in it all was to say “yes.” 

When people ask questions about living with this freeing grace, the first problem is “well then, why be good?” I used to wrestle with this dilemma. That is, until I came to A&M on somebody else’s dime.

I remember back in 2004 when my dad was called from the Army Reserves to serve in Iraq. I remember wishing he was home, and how challenging that year was. He missed a lot of soccer games, dinners, and birthdays in our family. I especially remember the uncontainable joy I felt when running across the room to give him a hug – finally, he made it back home. 

We didn’t fully know it at that time, but through the cost and pain of that year our family grew, learned, and gained a lot. Years later, the blessing of his service still affects me today.

So, when people ask me questions like, “why do you want to be a good student? Why even try to make good grades?” my response may seem like a funny thing. But in light of the gift I’ve received, it makes total sense. Just because a gift is free, it doesn’t mean it was cheap. I know I won’t be able to repay my dad for what he did. Neither can I repay Jesus Christ for his sacrifice by striving to be good. 

Instead, I live with the gift in mind. It inspires thankfulness, humbleness, and love. So much has been done for each and every one of us. Honestly facing how big our gift is will change the way we live. The only part we play is opening up our lives to it. 

Grace. What a precious word. God is always challenging me to dwell more richly on what it means. While simple, I’m learning that it’s indefinitely deep and marvelously free.

Now what? ... and more importantly: For what?

I went and saw "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty" this week. I really enjoyed it. Have you seen it? It was pretty good. Pretty good indeed.

I spent some time thinking it over after viewing it, and pondering why it had inspired me so deeply. In many ways, I felt it embodied an attitude of my generation; a restlessness found common to those comfortably-routine, yet dissatisfied youths. A ubiquitous desire to go, seek, and find something meaningful that can't be found in the everyday banality of the life we lead.

For some, it's the realization of a false promise among those who've grown up hearing it: that lasting satisfaction could be found when obtaining the "American Dream" (i.e. a "happy" family, car, dog, job, swimming pool, weekend vacations, Hollywood holidays, etc). Many of us grew up in families where the American Dream was a (perhaps near) reality, yet honest, soul-sustaining satisfaction eluded us. The result of this disappointment is a lingering desire for a richer life.

I think the filmmakers recognized this disposition, too...Or it could just be me; maybe I'm projecting that idea onto others. Regardless, I could tell the movie spoke into this shared restlessness and longing.

An unanswered question of "now what?"

With this in mind, I liked how the film inspired action -- it had a strong call to stop the petty talking, musing, and hoping of a different present-tense, and actually doing something about it. So often I find that I am daydreaming of the "what-ifs" or the "could-be's;" I ponder the possibilities, yet I hesitate to act and move because of earthly fears. Walter Mitty obviously feared many things at the beginning of the movie; his uncertainty to actually do something--anything--was very relate-able.

Through various events (I won't spoil the movie), Mitty was challenged and inspired. He started doing stuff. And that stuff, while as dangerous as he had feared, was rewarding. He changed the climate he was in; and, more importantly, he was changed too. It reminds me of that famous quote, "a ship in harbor is safe -- but that is not what ships are built for."

We all want this. We see the vivid life Mitty develops, and we desire to follow his lead in dropping the humdrum to find it.

But how?

My sister's take-away was simple. "Man, now I want to buy a plane ticket and travel!" This, at the surface, is the solution the movie proposes. It pins the resolution to the question of "now what?" around Life magazine's mantra--"To see the world, things dangerous to come, to see behind walls, draw closer, to find each other and to feel. That is the purpose of life."

To see things thousands of miles away, things hidden behind walls and within rooms, things dangerous to come to, to draw closer, to see and be amazed and to feel that is the purpose of life
Read more at http://www.wnd.com/2013/12/walter-mitty-dreams-up-the-purpose-of-life/#Ai16mfuvsLVuQoH3.99

To see things thousands of miles away, things hidden behind walls and within rooms, things dangerous to come to, to draw closer, to see and be amazed and to feel that is the purpose of life
Read more at http://www.wnd.com/2013/12/walter-mitty-dreams-up-the-purpose-of-life/#Ai16mfuvsLVuQoH3.99

 The entire movie culminates into this idea.

Mmh. Inspiring. Warm fuzzies. Yum.

And yet, I honestly have to say, not very constructive at all. Quite "fluffy."

I still appreciate and enjoy the movie because I find myself mobilized, as I could sense many other audience members were too. We were energized to move and do. To go and achieve. To find, feel, and connect.

But moments after the credits began rolling I found a deeper question nagged me, deeper than the "now what?" which had been seemingly answered.

... "For what?"

Granted, my enthusiasm about the film was mellowed with this realization, but I have to admit I wasn't surprised in this result from a secular movie.

Even so, I left the theatre with a calm assurance and an renewed purpose. While Walter Mitty didn't propose an answer, I knew God had already addressed this issue before the script was even penned.

For what do we go? For what purpose would a ship leave a safe harbor? (because that's obviously not what we're designed for)

Why do we do it, or anything for that matter?

--For Him.

And believe you me, my God is all about the going. He is all about seeing us changed. He is all about seeing His Kingdom and name glorified in our lives, in our relationships, in our countries, and in the earth. He is all about loving us, and us loving Him. My God isn't stationary or lax, nor is He content to see the helpless and weak stay helpless and weak.

Check out this song that I feel highlights this idea:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGDVlOKoOoE


Jesus even directs us: keep asking, keep seeking, keep knocking. Seek Him. Seek his will and kingdom here. Seek witnessing His love to the lost. Seek the perishing with the same intent of a God leaving Heaven to become a baby; of a Father sending his only Son into a humble form for the purpose of "God with us." Emmanuel. God's love isn't lukewarm. It's radically active and ravishingly real.

Now, that's lasting. And satisfying. And of more than enough value to act upon. That's a reason I would leave a harbor.

Would you?

One question now remains: Why not?

Secure

 Here is an essay prompt and response I had in my Kinesiology class this week. While it's not my best work, I enjoyed summarizing my time and vision gained from spending a few semesters at A&M. Here's a little glimpse about the things God has taught me and prepared me for!

"Where will you be in regards to your career or education in 3-5 years? What are your short/long-term goals? How will you utilize your education and skill sets to accomplish your goals?"

            There are many places I could be in three to five years. In some respects, this is incredibly frightening; however, I choose to see my unknown future as an open terrain for God to use. Looking to God for direction in my academics, work, and life after Texas A&M University has been one way He has fostered a deeper faith in me.
            Honestly speaking, I entered Texas A&M with every intention and goal of spending two years at the main college, then two years at the nearby Texas A&M Health Science Center where I would obtain a Bachelor of Science in Nursing. I had settled on this career track because, as a high school graduate, I needed something to strive towards. I knew that I thrive amongst others, enjoy health sciences, and love getting to interact and help people face-to-face. Nursing was the first thing that came to mind, and the job security in this field helped calm my nerves about my looming future. Having mapped my life (as far as I was concerned), I came to Texas A&M with the temporary major of General Studies.
            All this being said, there was a lot of learning and growth outside the classroom that I had not anticipated during my Freshman year of college. God opened my eyes to many things, including a broader purpose for my time at Texas A&M, a higher calling over my life than living for self and future financial comfort, and a deeper love for Him and the way He changes lives. I got to know how He offers peace amongst family financial issues back home, and saw His provision for tuition so I could continue attending college. I learned about Jesus Christ – a lot – and how through His sacrifice I can have real life. I got to know what it means to talk with Him and let Him change my heart, one day at a time. God opened my eyes to the criteria of self-competency I had established for myself; how without Him I’m pretty crummy, yet with Him there’s freedom from constantly struggling towards perfection for my own sake.

            I’ve learned that He is incredibly patient with me – more than I would even be with myself. I saw Him move in my friendships, and how dynamic and genuine it was to know people in this intimately spiritual way. Perhaps most notably for my future, I learned about how God doesn’t call me to only receive His blessings and grace, but how it naturally compels a loving desire to reach out to all who are around me. Simply put: if I know the peace, freedom, and love that was shown to me in Jesus Christ, it’s quite selfish to keep that from others.

            Needless to say, these life lessons I have been learning have changed a thing or two about my future aspirations. After my freshman year, I decided to continue for the full four years at Texas A&M and graduate with a degree in Sociology before (potentially) continuing on to pursue a Nursing degree. As a junior with two years left, I’m still entertaining the thought of completing an expedited academic track of Nursing after graduation. Practically speaking, I have been taking prerequisite courses in preparation for applying to nursing programs. However, there are multiple other options that I could see myself doing as well. For instance, I think kids are fantastic, and have found my heart “wakes up” when faced with the fatherless and broken. Additionally, God has fostered a weird, unexplainable interest in Eastern Europe through various encounters and life moments. Having visited Ukraine, then Russia during two previous summers, I could see myself living and serving God overseas in an area like this.

            While I don’t know how it might happen, I think I would be quite satisfied to work overseas in an orphanage or with an adoption agency, providing “health” care (albeit through physical or spiritual support) to youth. Perhaps I will be the clinical aid to such an organization, or maybe I’ll become a traveling nurse overseas. As far as I can tell, there are a lot of possibilities! My degree in Sociology would be aptly used for any such career like this, whether I formally go into nursing after graduation or pursue other avenues.
            While I don’t have any more of a concrete idea of where I would like to go after graduating from Texas A&M than when I entered, I can say that being at Texas A&M has taught me a lot about myself, God, and my purpose. In some respects, my future career is more defined as far as my interests, skills, and preparedness goes, and yet I am also more aware of how many possibilities and directions God could take me. I am eager to serve God, share the love of Christ with others, and to see what future He has in store. While it is still quite unknown, I am secure knowing God is calling the shots. He has proven Himself trustworthy thus far, and I can rest knowing He is trustworthy still.

Under Construction

Today I had a really sweet moment with God.

I was walking, stressing, and contemplating my current relationship with Him. I haven't been entirely satisfied, to be transparent with you. Sometimes I get distracted, and it's really challenging to sit down and honestly - honestly - talk with Him. When life gets hectic, my knee-jerk reaction is to micromanage and analyze ... Either that, or ignore (but it's kind of hard to ignore God, so I typically over-analyze instead).

As I was walking briskly between classes, I knew I had about 30 minutes to spare. "Great," I thought, "I'll log some good time with the Lord, get some of these stresses off my mind, and refuel. Hey! One of my favorite 'corners of campus' is coming up - I'll sit like that, read those things, discuss these topics, and pray there!"

As I neared my desired location, thoughts running of how I was going to "get down to business" with Him, I approached the nook and saw chain-link fences. If you don't know anything about my campus, know this: it is always, to some extent, under construction. "Great," I thought, "just great. Now I need to find somewhere else to have an *amazing* conversation with my Dad."


As I concluded this, I saw the sign posted on the fence (which was barring access to my corner):

"Under Construction: Authorized Personnel Only"


Quite funny, God. I like the way you open my eyes and remind me of your gentle, shaping Hand. You're molding my life. I've been purchased - am I really "authorized" to shape my life anymore? Am I the Maker of my heart? The one calling the shots? The one designing this clay pot?

Shouldn't I consult the great Architect when deciding how my life and relationship with God will play out? Wow. I'm quite proud. Thank you, Jesus, for Your gentle (albeit humorous) reminder that there are two in our relationship, not just one. My heart is Yours - shape it, mold it, and take it as You will.