For Jordan

I miss my friends. But especially Jordan.


"Letting go feels like giving up, giving up feels wrong but I knew this was coming all along: the end is here...What are we waiting for?"

You used to tell me "Jesus loves you." before each goodbye. Now you don't say anything at all. You were my closest friend in the beginning and then days of endless, maddening sun drove us apart. I'm sorry that i couldn't be there for you like you asked me to; I never meant to leave you just like everyone else before me. I didn't want to be like them and i never promised that I wouldn't hurt you but it's sad that I did.

my ignorance, idolatry, and idiotic selfishness is to blame but it's okay---you don't seem to really care as much as I do. You used to text me first, a special though or divinely timed verse; your silence now says everything that your words cannot. I resist this; doubtful that it's supposed to be this way.

coffee shop scribbles

lyrically scripted, poised to acoustic perfection

this coffee shop musical endeavor creates 

pulsating, good vibrations

and inspires dry bones to dance

dusty shelves mimic years of chimney soot

left behind by lonely fire's shared on cold, winter nights

outside, a chill overtakes a fresh spring afternoon

while ice-melting frames the view through a broken window

virtue,

ascending like an eagle

silences the crowd inside

this tabernacle of praise

tables turned allow hopeful faces to see

living art on display:

an audial experience to tempt and tease

your heart strings

2/13/2011

“Light is sown for the righteous and joy for upright in heart.”

-psalm 97:11

Sunday, March 13th, 2011 pastor John Piper preached about Jesus' claim to be "the light of the world." (John 8:12)  Admittedly, I only heard the first few minutes of his message before being distracted by a conversation with another pastor. The moments of teaching that I did catch have struck a significant, though oddly muted, chord within my soul. Piper outlined 4 assumptions about the "light of the world" and it's meaning and importance:

1. There is no other light. There is Jesus (who is the light) and there is darkness. 
2. All need Jesus, the light. Just like all are fallen and need a savior. 
3. The world was made for this light.  
4. One day this light will remove all darkness from the world.

This is truth. Pulled from the Bible and hearing it on Sunday made it fresh in my ears. For some blessed reason God chose to reveal to me that the answer I am looking for is Jesus. The light I am looking for is Jesus. The joy I am looking for is Jesus. I was made for Jesus. And Jesus was made to remove all the darkness from my world!

The Lighthouse

Sitting in my dingy ship I have had plenty of time to think. There is a quiet rhythm to the work God is doing in my life. Darkness like a sickness has threatened the deep, abounding and steady joy that seemed to define and radiate from within me. Once upon a time I pulled from that internal light and it powered me to serve in my church, school, and community with a smile, positivity and optimism. The degradation of that girl has been an uncomfortable loss and I've struggled with who I've become; who am I any more?

I can only speculate that the reason that I have felt so shrouded by staggering darkness is that these hazel eyes have closed to the Light of the World. Spiritually I have suffered and suffocated myself in the blackness of the world rather than opening my eyes to follow the Light.

In February I wrote a post about the break down of my friend group. In it I rejoiced at the works God was doing in my life through that situation. He is still working in this but something else stood out from the lines of scripted testimony. "I feel myself walking out of darkness and into His marvelous light (1 Peter 2:9). That joy, light and happiness that I have thirsted and hungered for in the beginning of this year has been seeping and peeking through my heart lately....A glint of True Joy has encouraged my soul." [excerpt from my blog post How Do You Measure a Year?] 

I have been trying to row my boat all over the seas of life without drinking the satisfying, unending and eternal rivers of life that Jesus provides. I have fought against the Anchor that has faithfully kept me in the center of inky oceans without opening my eyes to see that there is Light in the darkness. Now, with hands free and eyes beginning to open there in sight is a light house! A bright, tall and strong tower of safety. With the opening of my eyes came an opening of my heart.

Follow me.

the voice commanded.

Without taking the wooden oars into my hand my ship is led by the Anchor towards the safe harbor of Light in the distance.  Startled by the motion I fearfully reach for the paddles and begin to row but I only start veering off course. When I remove my bone-white fingers from the devices the Anchor again leads me towards the Light. This pattern of trust and fear and trust and fear damages the integrity of my ship. 

Jesus calls us to follow him. To follow Christ is to have Christ and to follow the Light is to have the Light of Life (also John 8:12). It's this Life of Light through Jesus Christ that super powered my heart and overflowed into my work. He is the supernatural source that shone through my smiley demeanor. The sincerity of my encouraging words to others came from the assurance of humble and obedient joy in God!

I've tried to follow Him with my hands gripping wooded oars and eyes closed; now with open hands and open eyes maybe this is the internal change I have been looking for. I'm beginning to feel my heart wanting not only the joy and light it once used to bask in, but the true source. I can't wait to reach that Harbor of Light, and the strong radiant Lighthouse at it's center!

The Anchor

Life is wonderfully interesting. It's as if I am on a boat surrounded by complete blackness and the waters are awfully choppy, but not overwhelming. Sometimes I sit in terror with my arms holding to the sides of the boat, eyes closed tightly.The vast darkness seems less frightening with lids drawn together. Sometimes I row frantically trying to escape the unknown storm around me. The waves lap against the wood of my oars. All of my best efforts to take my vessel further from the center of the tempest fail; I am held firm by an anchor running down into the deepest depths of the water.


My desperate fingers seek to loose the chain, but find an unmovable rope. Every attempt to unlace the thick cord from my boat fails until eventually the challenge is abandoned. How much longer will this darkness capture my ship? Idle frustration builds until the breaks in the waves become a comfortingly familiar echo in my defeated mind. No more struggling to flee from the anchor, only a bitter acceptance of each slap of water against the decaying sides of the ship. My hands return to the rim resting uneasily and afraid to release their grip.


Let go.
a voice commands.


I am incited many more times before my fingers unlace from their safe embrace of one another. Darkness still surrounds me but I am no longer afraid. With the unfolding of my hands came an opening of my heart. I realize that the anchor isn't what is hurting me, but the darkness I feared. The Anchor is keeping me from being swept away by the frantic winds and spinning currents. The strong tether between my small, useless dinghy and my Anchor is perfectly made. This understanding travels down from my eyes into my heart assuring me that I am exactly where I was made to be.


Jesus is the Anchor. He is the lifeline holding me from the endlessly eclipsed ocean.

Boots

Boots, en vogue.

Delicate and trendy, how they carry a starving girl who hungers for more than another meal. 

What can satisfy that insatiable need for love and attention?

Boots, black and loosely laced.

Dusted with earth from paths-less-traveled all around the world.

Where is home for a wandering wonder?

Boots, shiny and tall.

Reaching over netted legs, disguising bruised knees; turning tricks and getting paid at an hourly wage on her back, just like her momma taught her.

When will the cycle end?

Boots, salted and soggy.

Seeking solace from sleeting snow on broken streets and sloppy sidewalks.

What can warm the coldness that reaches the deepest parts of a soul?

Boots, hidden and scuffed.

Beneath the faded and worn denim of a man who traded the simple life for big city dreams.

Why isn't our own grass green enough?

Boots, used and shared.

Passed down, too large for his developing frame; he'll grow into them like his siblings before.

Who will be the one to give a new gift?

Time is a Funny Thing

Time is a funny thing, it passes more and more quickly with each year. 2011 has been passing with a speed unlike any year before. What have I to show for it? Even though I am not a fan of New Year's Resolutions I did set a few goals for myself this year. Regrettably, I do not believe that I have accomplished nearly as much as I would have hoped to have done by now...my music still needs to be de-cluttered, my photo albums organized and properly maintained, and I haven't paid my personal debts back (actually, they have increased!). I figured out a payment plan for my schooling, though I've irresponsibly procrastinated in paying it. Likewise, my "bills" and rent haven't  been paid at all this year thanks to the good graces of my mother! I haven't worked out even once a week for most of this year, my eating is pretty out of control and I've spent most of my money on food (for others as well as my self...).  I've inconsistently been disciplined in my faith practices; my spiritual growth has felt stunted.