It's a daunting quest in this life, to find beauty in the ugly, life in the mundane, wonder in the endless routine-ing we subject ourselves to.
It is a tiring hunt, a courageous endeavor to commit to.
Even now, sitting amongst the shuffle of this cafeteria with lively young scholars bouncing to and fro, chattering and herding and laughing and stumbling and clutching books and its tiring just to watch them.
I become a drone.
Not feeling. Not hearing.
Closed shut both in the shipping and receiving of Your grace.
A lifeless shell just like all the rest of it.
Aren't there still reasons to smile today?
Perhaps, I realize again in the after-the-fact moments, perhaps the opposition to this grace is just the beginning of blessings. My drawing near, my resurfaced need for You unrestrained.
They are no blessings in disguise. Just blessings, plain and simple, as they are.
I had to wake up before daybreak this morning, but I arose heart pumping and breathing, my daily miracle.
I mustered annoyed strength to chip the ice off my windshield this morning while I was rushing frazzled, but I posses muscle strength within my body to do this and so much more.
I am forced to drive slow to school for the ice lingers, but I am privileged with the chance to glide unhurried and savor the white glow of the Winter Wonderland You have crafted before me.
All these things are gold on my treasure hunt.
All these things are You in every aspect.
Grace not withheld.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Wow, it's been a while!
Ah yes, I have a blog.
After a drought of writing, God set a fountain of creativity loose through my pen and an insatiable desire to write and write. So, this morning during church, I was the girl-woman scribbling furiously, legs crossed dainty-like, just sparked and pricked by a single phrase in a sermon.
Enjoy:
How quickly I forget my Maker.
The one who knows every cell, every fibrous matter, the numbers, ratios, equations to calculate my being and breathing life.
The one who stretched skin across my skeletal frame, seeping living oils into every pore, choosing the hues and tints that would pool into my soul windows and ice my outer image in the form of melanin.
The scientist who figured the perfect configuration of my fidgeting organs and beating lifelines, the density of the architecture which houses the most particular masterpiece of all: the Soul.
He speaks lullabies to the children.
He makes, He soothes with word-lotions.
He rocks us back and forth in arms so strong, one named Guarantee and one named Promise, wrapped around.
Without fail, He knows.
He counts.
He counts the sins He shall forget, the painful number of times my hammer pounds into the nails, diving deeper into holy, blessed flesh.
He counts the breathless moments, those times my heart is a bird sprouting wings to try flying.
He knows where. Where and How.
Ah, but He, He is the Why.
He is the tailor of the fine gown I will wear as His daughter, incandescent with Him, despite my trying.
"Remember" my heart cries bloody tears of salvation, "Remember your maker!"
The Knowing.
The Artist.
The Father of All.
Just remember.
After a drought of writing, God set a fountain of creativity loose through my pen and an insatiable desire to write and write. So, this morning during church, I was the girl-woman scribbling furiously, legs crossed dainty-like, just sparked and pricked by a single phrase in a sermon.
Enjoy:
How quickly I forget my Maker.
The one who knows every cell, every fibrous matter, the numbers, ratios, equations to calculate my being and breathing life.
The one who stretched skin across my skeletal frame, seeping living oils into every pore, choosing the hues and tints that would pool into my soul windows and ice my outer image in the form of melanin.
The scientist who figured the perfect configuration of my fidgeting organs and beating lifelines, the density of the architecture which houses the most particular masterpiece of all: the Soul.
He speaks lullabies to the children.
He makes, He soothes with word-lotions.
He rocks us back and forth in arms so strong, one named Guarantee and one named Promise, wrapped around.
Without fail, He knows.
He counts.
He counts the sins He shall forget, the painful number of times my hammer pounds into the nails, diving deeper into holy, blessed flesh.
He counts the breathless moments, those times my heart is a bird sprouting wings to try flying.
He knows where. Where and How.
Ah, but He, He is the Why.
He is the tailor of the fine gown I will wear as His daughter, incandescent with Him, despite my trying.
"Remember" my heart cries bloody tears of salvation, "Remember your maker!"
The Knowing.
The Artist.
The Father of All.
Just remember.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Nice to Meet You
Hello God.
It's nice to meet You again.
Sometimes it seems like I meet You brand new with every rising of the sun in Your sky, with each forward progressing motion of my feet after descending, born again from my bedsheets, onto the floor You blessed me with.
Will I ever know all of You?
Sometimes You reside over my world as a mighty mountain, distant but so strong.
At times I quiver like a child hiding beneath my bed at my own sins, knowing how greatly I have displeased my Father, waiting for Your disciplinary steps to sound the battle-drums, knowing that what I deserve is coming.
Then You are a smiling Savior reaching out in a stretch of light to tell me the story of a new beginning.
You laugh with abundant joys along with me as I sing thanksgiving, a jolly, cheerful Lord.
But I also know You as solemn and quiet, Your dripping tears reveal the heart of yearning and sympathy.
You are my teacher, generous in your lessons, gifts from the Gift-Giver.
You are my best friend, walking beside me as I whisper secrets into an ear that is never overwhelmed, and I feel secure that each word falls understood.
Father
Lover
Friend
Justice Keeper
Savior
Counselor
Mighty King
Servant
Teacher
Giver
I will walk these days to know You, and sleep the nights in questioning, searching for the true and wonderful You.
Love,
Your Daughter
Rachel
It's nice to meet You again.
Sometimes it seems like I meet You brand new with every rising of the sun in Your sky, with each forward progressing motion of my feet after descending, born again from my bedsheets, onto the floor You blessed me with.
Will I ever know all of You?
Sometimes you hold me more softly and tenderly than any human lover could do as I collapse and heave with tears.
At times I quiver like a child hiding beneath my bed at my own sins, knowing how greatly I have displeased my Father, waiting for Your disciplinary steps to sound the battle-drums, knowing that what I deserve is coming.
Then You are a smiling Savior reaching out in a stretch of light to tell me the story of a new beginning.
You laugh with abundant joys along with me as I sing thanksgiving, a jolly, cheerful Lord.
You are my teacher, generous in your lessons, gifts from the Gift-Giver.
You are my best friend, walking beside me as I whisper secrets into an ear that is never overwhelmed, and I feel secure that each word falls understood.
Father
Lover
Friend
Justice Keeper
Savior
Counselor
Mighty King
Servant
Teacher
Giver
I will walk these days to know You, and sleep the nights in questioning, searching for the true and wonderful You.
Love,
Your Daughter
Rachel
Friday, January 4, 2013
Noah's Ark in Newer Light
I had always considered the famed Bible story of Noah’s Ark
to be one for the kids.
After all, hadn’t I just used an adorable little prop with
big-eyed animals marching two by two onto a giant boat with a smiling cartoon
Noah waving from the deck of the ship to teach my preschoolers this tale in
Sunday school?
So when this story came up on the Year-Bible Reading Plan
I’m trying this year, I am somewhat ashamed to admit I took it as a “been
there, done that,” reading. (did I mention this is the fifth year it’s been my
resolution? Oh well, I’ll keep “running towards the goal,” (Philippians 3:14))
I am beyond pleased to tell you what a fool God made me
after that assumption!
I got my breakthrough in the happy ending that I always
loved about this story. The rainbow.
After countless fearful hours and days and
weeks of waiting on God’s promise to be fulfilled, the opening of the door to a
dry and beautiful world, cleansed of evil, a fresh start, a covenant kept. And
the icing on the cake, the fireworks display at the end of the show, before
their eyes shone a beam of vibrant light stretching across the sky as a
magnificent miracle. Entangled in those colors, woven in like an extravagant
blanket, were God’s whispers: “I have not forgotten you.”
“When the rainbow appears in the clouds I will see it and
remember the everlasting covenant between me and all living beings on earth.”
–Genesis 9:16
And in placing myself in that story I saw that God had taken
me through a tale very much the same; all of a sudden Noah’s ark became a new and thrilling lesson, how had I
been so blind?
Just as Noah had to open the doors of that ark in an act of
faith, in a spirit of trust, so must I open the doors of whatever fortress I’m
hiding myself in. It seems like I barricade myself with each season of my life,
shutting God out in fear, waiting through the storm, feeling rocked by the
waves, and wondering if He would ever keep His promise.
But if I open those doors in faith, though I run the risk of
having a crashing wave flooding my ark, sinking me, I must trust that it will
not because He said so.
And that’s when I can see the rainbows everywhere.
When I see the bright smiles of my amazing friends who hold
my hands as I walk through this crazy thing called faith.
When I look in the mirror and see the softness that cloaks
the skeleton I was once so well acquainted with in my times of starvation.
When I see His plan being revealed through the open doors of
college applications, opportunities blossoming everywhere when I thought it was
over for me after being discharged from the Air Force.
When I hear someone say that His story in me has inspired
them to seek a relationship with Jesus all their own.
God answered all those prayers I cried up to Him for years
and years. He delivered me. He kept His promises. All I had to do was open
those doors, take a leap of faith, prepare for the crashing wave of God’s plan
to swallow me whole, and take delight in the delicious joy and peace my soul is
nourished with day by day.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
The Tale of Humans and Words
Once upon a time...
The Words were lifted high, hoisted onto a gaudy pedestal to rule over the land of Human Hearts. At first, The Words seemed full of truth and beauty; they reigned with such sickening and convincing sweetness and seemed to know exactly what the humans wanted to hear. Therefore, humans bowed before their utterance, took their providence over human actions and human beliefs as a great gift.
Then The Words became oppressors. The Words chained their subjects with a seemingly iron grip, and the humans, trapped by their initial goodness, could not escape their mocking nature, their lies, their hurt, their painful assertions.
Yet the humans, in the midst of this slavery, could not realize that The Words had taken a throne that was not theirs.
The humans did not realize that The Words' "truth" was actually just a paper-thin blanket that masked the real truth, a truth that would shame The Words and reveal their monstrosity.
The humans did not know that the chains that bound their souls to a disgusting place were existing in an artificial strength, one that would not stand a chance when the true King would come.
In the meantime, the humans writhed in pain, tears soaking the soils of their land, darkness covering in a mist of hatred, sadness was set as the climate and confusion and searching seemed that it would last forevermore.
When would the oppression end?
It would end with The True Word. The Word that brings life.
This True Word came with such a victorious fury that no other words stood a chance. The True Word battled to prove its truth, though it was the rightful ruler of the land. The Words used their best weapons of Doubt, Deceit, and False Hope to combat this, but in the end the One True Word took every hurtful, oppressive, evil Word and overwhelmingly conquered!
The True Word fought like a hero, as a warrior, bravery surpassing what any human had ever seen or known, truth and nobility that shone from him as the sweat and blood dripping from his efforts glistened in the light that was slowly overtaking the land.
He emerged as winner. He emerged as King.
And what of the slaves of The Words, the weak and vulnerable human beings who feared the power of The True Word?
He did not sentence them to death for following the wrong King. He did not even take them as prisoners to work of the years that they worshiped lies.
He did not just set them free, but made them more than free.
He invited them into His kingdom.
He gave them treasures they had never seen before, treasures that glowed so bright it blinded the humans, making them forget their past trials and errors. Treasures of grace, love, and the greatest of all, salvation.
And they lived, and live, and shall live, happily ever after in union with their True King and the One True Word!
The Words were lifted high, hoisted onto a gaudy pedestal to rule over the land of Human Hearts. At first, The Words seemed full of truth and beauty; they reigned with such sickening and convincing sweetness and seemed to know exactly what the humans wanted to hear. Therefore, humans bowed before their utterance, took their providence over human actions and human beliefs as a great gift.
Then The Words became oppressors. The Words chained their subjects with a seemingly iron grip, and the humans, trapped by their initial goodness, could not escape their mocking nature, their lies, their hurt, their painful assertions.
Yet the humans, in the midst of this slavery, could not realize that The Words had taken a throne that was not theirs.
The humans did not realize that The Words' "truth" was actually just a paper-thin blanket that masked the real truth, a truth that would shame The Words and reveal their monstrosity.
The humans did not know that the chains that bound their souls to a disgusting place were existing in an artificial strength, one that would not stand a chance when the true King would come.
In the meantime, the humans writhed in pain, tears soaking the soils of their land, darkness covering in a mist of hatred, sadness was set as the climate and confusion and searching seemed that it would last forevermore.
When would the oppression end?
It would end with The True Word. The Word that brings life.
This True Word came with such a victorious fury that no other words stood a chance. The True Word battled to prove its truth, though it was the rightful ruler of the land. The Words used their best weapons of Doubt, Deceit, and False Hope to combat this, but in the end the One True Word took every hurtful, oppressive, evil Word and overwhelmingly conquered!
The True Word fought like a hero, as a warrior, bravery surpassing what any human had ever seen or known, truth and nobility that shone from him as the sweat and blood dripping from his efforts glistened in the light that was slowly overtaking the land.
He emerged as winner. He emerged as King.
And what of the slaves of The Words, the weak and vulnerable human beings who feared the power of The True Word?
He did not sentence them to death for following the wrong King. He did not even take them as prisoners to work of the years that they worshiped lies.
He did not just set them free, but made them more than free.
He invited them into His kingdom.
He gave them treasures they had never seen before, treasures that glowed so bright it blinded the humans, making them forget their past trials and errors. Treasures of grace, love, and the greatest of all, salvation.
And they lived, and live, and shall live, happily ever after in union with their True King and the One True Word!
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