I prayed to the LORD,
and he answered me.
He freed me from all my fears.
Those who look to him
for help
will be radiant
with JOY;
no shadow of shame will darken their faces.
In my desperation
I prayed,
and the LORD listened;
he saved me from
all my troubles.
Taste and see
that
the
LORD
is good.
Oh, the JOYS of those who take refuge
IN HIM!
This song hit close to home when I heard Audrey and JJ Heller in concert last week…
Audrey Assad, “Lament”
I’m Mary and I’m Martha all at the same time;
I’m sitting at His feet and yet I’m dying to be recognized.
I am a picture of contentment and I am dissatisfied.
Why is it easy to work and hard to rest sometimes,
sometimes, sometimes
I’m restless, and I rustle like a thousand tall trees;
I’m twisting and I’m turning in an endless daydream.
You wrestle me at night and I wake in search of You…
but try as I might, I just can’t catch You
But I want to, ’cause I need You, yes, I need You
I can’t catch You, but I want to.
How long, how long until I’m home?
I’m so tired, so tired of running
How long until You come for me?
I’m so tired, so tired of running
Yeah, I’m so tired, so tired of running
I’m so tired, so tired of running
I’ve been going through a dry spell, in regards to the creative side of my life. I can’t remember when I last wrote a song. This really isn’t a good thing, if you know me. Hopefully changes in the future will aid this. However, I had a moment of inspiration today, and am in the process of again writing:
Fighting gravity
’cause it’s all I can do to breathe
coming up for air
because gravity isn’t what I was made for
I was made to fly, I was made to fly
Fighting looks and glances
and who you think I am
Gravity was made for you
but not for me, never for me
I was made to fly, I was made to fly
I was made to fly
I’m more than what meets your eye
But can’t seem to escape
what you see me as
Fighting gravity
but it only seems to me
I’m grounded because
what you think I’m made to be
Like I said, it’s in the process. Has a folky/country/shuffle feel. More inspiration to come, hopefully…
Time flies and it’s hard to believe it has been a year since I was last in Managua, Nicaragua. There are many emotions as I have prepared, but in the midst of a very, very busy and stressful time here at work, there will be a little air to breathe as I get to chaperone a group of High School students on a mission trip to Nicaragua. I have the most amazing job.
God always is up to something, and every time I’ve gone, He has surprised me with his strength (which I shouldn’t be!), peace, hope and joy in the faces of these children.
Pray for us. We fly out March 21st, and return the 30th. Check up on us through the week with our blog.
I can’t say off the top of my head how many blog drafts I have on my account currently. It’s a lot.
Silence doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say, it just means sometimes there is too much to say, so it’s better not to say anything. Those who know me know what my thoughts and feelings are, so there’s no need to blast it out to the world. Some things are sacred, some things are kept deep in the heart.
Often, I think about pivotal decisions in my life; turning points and forks in the road in which I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God was calling me down a different path. Those moments are few and far between for me, but it’s a familiar feeling. They are moments in which when I look back, I wonder why I wasn’t scared shitless. I wonder how in the world I felt so much peace. And I guess that’s just it. Peace. These moments are marked with peace, regardless of what the decision was.
Sometimes God speaks through other people, sometimes he speaks through circumstances, and sometimes, it’s simply finding a quarter. (Weird, I know, but true in my case.)
I cannot say what the future holds, but all I know this life was meant to be lived, and that what God has for us is beyond anything we could dream up for ourselves. Read Ephesians, it will change you.
This is a journey, not a destination. This is about knowing God in a deep way, as we walk through seasons of life, and are drawn closer to him. It’s less about being happy. More about him. Less about us. Think about it.
Death is such a funny thing, I mean, funny in a not so funny way. I tend to stay far away from hospitals, breathing apparatuses… and just everything of that genre.
But the other day, I had to go to the hospital to visit my Aunt (actually my great Aunt, but we always just called her Aunt, like the regular kind), and have yet another encounter and be near death. It’s been just over a year since my Grandma passed away, but the feeling is still all too real, even as I was missing her today.
Anyway, hospitals. I don’t think I’ve been to the hospital to visit someone since my Grandpa died, in the summer of 2006, but walking in through those double doors, and down the hall to ICU only brought back memories of him, and of course my Grandma.
I tried not to think about it, but when my Mom called as I was working yesterday, I knew why she was calling. I work at the church, so I had already heard the situation was critical, but still, I agreed to visit the hospital in my parents brief absence, even though she was sedated at the time. I went about my work, then threw on my jacket, and decided just to walk over, since the hospital isn’t far from the church. On the way, I really didn’t think about how it would feel, I didn’t want to. But then again, maybe I just shouldn’t think about it, since it wasn’t really about ME at all.
I stayed for maybe an hour, visiting with her caregiver, and another relative (I honestly can’t even tell you how she’s related to us… we have so many interesting extended family connections, and just don’t really know them too well).
Her breathing and heart rate was irregular, but the only thing I could think about was my Grandpa, and remembering seeing him in a similar fashion, almost 6 years ago.
I wasn’t close with my Aunt, we never spent much time with her, you know, life is busy. My Dad knew her well and cared for her a lot over these past 8 or so years, when her health worsened.
Death is just so interesting, not funny, just so weird and intriguing. I’m so uncomfortable being around it, because it just seems so wrong to sit in the same room where someone is dying and reminisce, laugh, tell stories about their lives, and be… so alive.
Someday I will die, and actually it will be a beautiful thing. Seeing the face of God, seeing relatives that I’ve seen pass onto the other side. It will be amazing. But the scary, and more sobering thing to think about now is that so many around us don’t know Christ, and will not have heaven to look forward to. They won’t experience a beautiful death, they don’t know what it’s like to have the peace of God. This has been a topic of conversation with friends lately, and just realize the fragility of life.
Every breath is life, and a second chance to start again. Just remember that, as you live and dance your way to death.
I’ve been in a jet-lag haze for the past week. Yesterday morning was the first morning I woke feeling semi-normal. But even that was waking up at 5:30 am. I’m ready for normal, calm, peace. Yeah right, that won’t be happening until… maybe July.
I hit the ground running Monday. Ate lunch, unpacked, did laundry, worked out, then slept, sorta. Meetings all week, extra rehearsals, more meetings, more planning. It’s exhausting, but at the same time it’s good. I’m glad to be here.
Many things were pressed into my heart while I was away, and when I returned, I returned with a desire and flame to be here, where I know God wants me. There’s a lot I could say, but I don’t want to bore you all. Let’s just say the ways I thought God was leading when I left, were just not really what I thought. I like to plan, I like to dream, I love thinking about the future, but in the midst of all the planning, I forgot to remain in the present. Even while I was on my trip, I really have a habit of not remaining in the here and now, and, well for now on, it’s a discipline for me.
Psalm 90 speaks a lot about who God is, and who we are in light of him. But I love verse 12- teach us to realize the brevity of life that we may gain a heart of wisdom (sorry that may not be exact.. too tired to move right now and check).
Life is precious, never forget that. Be you. And be right where you are, right now.
Where I collide
with the world
is not where my heart begins beating
Where time stills
and all is dark
is when I can rest my head and begin
Searching for peace
yet never finding it
yet by faith and by the light I step
The assurance of the dawn
the timeliness of the sunset
is where my heart beats and where my blood spills
The average
is never just average
it is precious it is a gift
The newness will fade
but Constance remains
in each day and each sunrise
Where my heart lies
and the world collides
is only the beginning of eternity
I’m sitting here in bed, under a mosquito net here in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, after being warmly welcomed at the airport by a wonderful missionary family. A friend of a friend situation, but great none the less.
I love Cambodia, since the first time I visited, my heart was captured, in such a different way than Thailand. Thailand for me at this point is a take it or leave it place, Cambodia leaves me wanting more of it. Wanting to know, explore and understand.
After being used to sleeping with air con, tonight may be warmer than usual for me. The window is open, no screen, hence being totally under a mosquito net. Friends, you should be here with me.
Today, sitting in the airport I thought to myself, I don’t know anyone else who would do this. Traveling alone in a foreign country, SE Asia no less. And a woman. Am I crazy? No, well maybe a little, but at least I’m living. At least I’m living and feeling alive.
It’s late for me, take care friends. Until next time.
M
We will see how long I can stand typing on my iPod touch… I’m already tired.
Thailand always waits to welcome with open arms. It’s just as beautiful and amazing as I remember. I have missed it, but I do not miss the struggles of living here, which I so quickly remembered almost days into my trip here.
There is extreme beauty here but there is also extreme ugliness as well. Thais elevate the idea of always appearing nice, without desiring to “beautify” the inside. You see this knowing the trafficking issues here, and you can see it on the face of every Thai who is Buddhist but still has no concept of a personal relationship with a god. It is as foreign as this land still is to me.
I can’t believe I’m still writing.
I am glad I came, but I’m also glad to be going back. Being back to visit reminds me of my purpose back home, where God wants me to be now.
somehow beautiful 