Powerless to Resist.

If ever Michigan wanted to seduce you, the time is now.
Perhaps only a coy game to lure you in despite what assuredly will come, an excruciating long winter that will leave you feeling abandoned and abused.  But there is no sense in refusing these Autumn wiles, conditions are perfect. You will not win.

First the wind comes, caressing your fading, summer sun-kissed cheeks.  Bringing with it a blanket of billowy, grey clouds to set the mood.
Next thing you know, its scent is on your collar.
Sweet and crisp.  Musty and damp.  Smelling of the forts and leaf piles of your youth.
On the shore of the Lake you'll go for a quiet, intimate walk. For the cone licking tourists, have retreated to their big cities and suburbs. 
The crunching leaves and roaring waves serenade you, powerfully sweet.

It's laying on the charm so thick only a heart of stone could resist.
You'll fall in love, as you bask in the distant sun, returning home to a glass of freshly pressed apple cider. 

Michigan, I have not the power to resist.  You have my heart, once again.

To: Worry.

9.21.11

Dear Worry,


     I'm writing you this letter because I have some things I need to tell you.  I chose a letter because most people, myself included, tend to be a little more harsh and a little less guarded when writing.  And we've had this talk before, and putting it down in black and white is more permanent than spoken words.


     But let's cut to the chase here.


     You've overstayed your welcome.


     I know I am partly to blame.  I've kicked you out before.  But somehow you always manage to wriggle your way back into my good graces.  I see you on the corner while I'm driving down the road.  Then we bump into each other at the supermarket.  The next day we're sitting next to each other in the waiting room.  And I run into you on my walks.  Which is probably the most annoying because my walks are good and you are not.  Before I know it, you're sitting in my living room with your feet propped up in your favorite chair and you've moved your things back into the cabinet above the sink.


     I've been trying to figure out why it's so hard to let you go.  My first thought is the simple fact that you are familiar.  A torn up, dirty, dingy old security blanket.  You've been with me for quite awhile now, so your nagging existence is woven into the daily routine.  It's always hard to get rid of something that is familiar.  But it's not always reason enough to keep it around.  Like those smelly old moccasins I used to have.  Another reason is that if I part ways with you, it means I can't feel like I'm in control, carefully planning and plotting to avoid impending disaster.  The problem is disaster still comes with you in my midst.  The only difference is I've been fretting away the time until the said disaster strikes.


     So even though you're worn in, and, in a twisted way, I feel safer with you around, you're getting old.  And I'm getting pretty sick of you hanging around.


     Remember that "Better" part of me I was talking about the other day?  The part that is good and right and true?  Well, I'm fairly certain that's the Holy Spirit.  And so you know, I'm going to be inviting Him over for dinner from now on.  He's much better company.  What that means is that your seat is now filled and if you come skulking back here, you're just going to have to sit on the floor.  Preferably in the corner.  The furthest corner.

Sincerely,

Me

p.s.  Please don't contact me with a response.  I'm quite busy practicing peace and trust, so I don't have the time or desire to hear what you have to say.

Picking Up Steam.

The little voice.
You know the Speaker I'm speaking of.
The One that tells you to do things.  Tells you to do the somethings that stop you from acting against your better judgement.  Or to do the somethings deemed better judgement. Typically It speaks the somethings synonymous with my clingy, heavy, irritating but oh, so refining-ly wonderful life theme: do hard things.
I can't tell you exactly when this started, but it seems as though my inner vocalist is picking up steam.
It is a bit more persistent these days. I might even go so far as to say stubborn. 
So much so that I start inner verbal wars with it. 
And it's standing up for itself. 
Example:

Me: I don't want to run anymore.
Voice: Just keep running.
Me: (weakly and winded) Okay fine.  A little bit farther.

A few steps later.

Me: Alright, I'm done.
Voice: No, you are not.
Me: Excuse me? Whose running this ship anyway? [hahaha. get it.  running this ship? obviously accidental pun, noticed upon revision.]
Voice: Clearly not you since you feel the need to inform me of your done-ness.  Or should I say quit-erness.
Me: Okay. That's enough out of you.  I am not a quitter. 
Voice:  You're right.  You're still running.  And faster now too.
Me: Well, when can I stop then?
Voice: After you get to the top of the hill.
Me: But if I turn now, I can run down the road with the gradual incline and skip the hill.
Voice: Hill.
Me: ...
Me: To the Hill it is.

I always know the Voice is right.
Maybe that's why I argue with it.  It's the better part of me.  Showing me up.  Knowing the right thing to do.  Even though most of the time it's the right thing that involves some burning in my muscles and some dying of my pride.  Maybe that's why I argue with it.  Because it always asks me to do the hard things. It's been asking me lately to filter words spoken out of immaturity or emotion before they come tumbling out in an awful heap. Telling me to shape up or ship out when I just want to sit in my grumpiness and carry around crabby.  Insisting I take risks.  Do uncomfortable things. 

I'd like to think that the Voice isn't a separate identity.  That it really is Me.  The truth filled parts of me.  The parts of me that know what is good and right.  I'm still not sure exactly what happenings started this little steam engine of truth telling, but I'm glad it's here.  I'm hoping the lines between the It and Me get blurry.  And although It may lose a battle or two, I'm praying It will win the war.

Listen to This.

There are a lot of songs about love out there.
I could chalk this observation up to the fact that I'm listen to a Micheal Bublé station on Pandora.
But when you think about it, pretty much all songs are about love.
A fact I find slightly annoying at the current moment.

There's one song I heard yesterday though that is noteworthy and doesn't make me want to skip until I puke or eat ice cream until I puke.  It's a song that was meaningful to me a few years back too.  And it reminds me of my college roommate for some reason.  Anyway, it's good. 

The pathway is broken
And the signs are unclear
And I don't know the reason why You brought me here
But just because You love me the way that You do
I'm gonna walk through the valley
If You want me to

No I'm not who I was
When I took my first step
And I'm clinging to the promise You're not through with me yet
So if all of these trials bring me closer to You
Then I will walk through the fire
If You want me to

It may not be the way I would have chosen
When You lead me through a world that's not my home
But You never said it would be easy
You only said I'll never go alone (yeah oh oh)

So when the whole world turns against me
And I'm all by myself
And I can't hear You answer my cries for help
I'll remember the sufferin' Your love put You through
And I will walk through the darkness
If You want me to

'Cause when I cross over Jordan, I'm gonna sing, gonna shout
Gonna look into your eyes and see you never let me down
So take me on the pathway that leads me home to you
And I will walk through the valley if you want me to

Yes, I will walk through the valley if you want me to    -Ginny Owens

And at the risk of showing melancholic honesty, I also found this song's poignancy refreshing.  But you'll have to listen to this one.  I just listened to it again.  Sara you nailed it.
"You can see something else."

Hallelujah.

New Task: Smell Better.

I stole an idea from a friend today.
He has a book idea.  And after he told me his idea, I decided a chapter I would write.  Now, I can't tell you his idea because that would just be wrong, but I'm going to tell you about my epiphany.  His book is slated to finish when he turns 30, so while you are anxiously awaiting it's arrival you can read his blog.  I think it's pretty good.

I figured out a new direction in life.  That's right ladies and gentleman.  I have a goal.  Praise the Maker!
This new goal is to live life richly.
Don't get any crazy ideas.  I won't be rolling up on dubs or sporting a rolex.  Which obviously is the first thing you think of when you think of being rich.  [and i won't be showering more frequently as the title of this post might suggest.  bahaha.]

No, I want to live richly in the sense that I'm full and overflowing with the good stuff.  Love. Joy. Peace. Patience.  Kindness.  Goodness.  Faithfulness.  Gentleness.  Self-control.  [Galatians 5:22] No matter what time zone I'm in, what my occupation-or lack there of-happens to be, regardless of my company or circumstance.  I don't want to be found lacking in zeal.  [Romans 12:11]  I feel as though I've met people who do this.  You happen upon them in the line at the super market, work next to their cubicle or run into them on the a street corner where they are directing traffic for a road race [this happened to me this morning] and you walk away feeling refreshed.  They are a breath of fresh air.  Fresh air for a stuffy soul.  And I want to be that person.  So full of the Spirit that it alarms people's senses.  Yes, alarms them, pleasantly of course, but rattles them up a little bit causing them to consider life and consider God after getting a whiff.

Determined to gain this new found richness, I contemplated buying a trinket.
I was thinking about all this while browsing through The Bridge in Holland and thought, "Ah ha!  I just had a breakthrough and I should definitely buy something to remind me of this discovery!"  I tried on a couple pairs of earrings, and then looked at rings.  And then realized that I was an idiot.

Having a bauble is not going to help me in this venture.
It's not that easy.
I love sentimentality to be sure.  But over time my talisman would loose it's power and it would just become something I remembered the meaning behind occasionally when I took the time to think about it really hard.  Which, by the way, is something I never understood about tattoos inked to remind people of something.  Maybe it's just me, but I start to tune things out after they aren't new any more.  [the root of several "problems" in my life? possibly?]  I've digressed.

I just have to put in the time.
I have to do the hard work.
Choosing love.  Claiming joy.  Practicing peace.  Deciding on patience.  Seeking kindness.  Pursuing goodness.  Acting on faithfulness.  Desiring gentleness.  Mustering up self-control.
The work won't be done tomorrow.
Unfortunately.
But I'll be working on it.
And I pray the one day, a refreshing odor will be coming from my general direction.

Continuing.

Teach me your way, O Lord, that I may walk in your truth,
unite my heart to fear your name.
I give thanks to you, O Lord my God, with my whole heart, and I will glorify your name forever.  For great is your steadfast love toward me...

Doing hard things, like learning how to trust, led me to reference Psalm 86 in my last post.  Psalm 86 is not done with me yet, or perhaps God isn't, or maybe it's one in the same?

I would really like to unite my heart.  It's like that crazy dog walker wielding ten dogs, all with their own agenda. Tangled leashes, loud and slobbery, hair flying everywhere.  Or maybe like me walking one dog...which can sometimes lead to the same results.  The good news is that I can ask God to make sense of the chaos and set it off in the right direction.  Thanks for asking first David.

And speaking of David, I noticed the voice speaking changes in the middle Psalm 89.  I pray it hits you and washes into the deep parts.
Of old you spoke in a vision to your godly one, and said:

"I have granted help to one who is mighty; I have exalted one chosen from the people. I have found David, my servant; with my holy oil I have anointed him, so that my hand shall be established with him; my arm also shall strengthen him.  The enemy shall not outwit him; the wicked shall not humble him.  I will crush his foes before him and strike down those who hate him.  My faithfulness and my steadfast love shall be with him, and in my name shall his horn be exalted.  I will set his hand on the sea and his right hand on the rivers.  He shall cry to me, 'You are my Father, my God, and the Rock of my salvation.' And I will make him the firstborn, the highest of the kings of the earth.  My steadfast love I will keep for him forever and my covenant will stand firm for him.  I will establish his offspring forever and his throne as the days of the heavens.  If his children forsake my law and do not walk according to my rules, if they violate my statues and do not keep my commandments, then I will punish their transgression with the rod and their iniquity with stripes, 

but I will not remove from him my steadfast love or be false to my faithfulness.  

I will not violate my covenant or alter the word that went forth from my lips.  Once for all I have sworn by my holiness; I will not lie to David.  His offspring shall endure forever, his throne as long as the sun before me.  Like the moon it shall be established forever, a faithful witness in the skies."

David, you are awesome.  I love your honesty and your perspective.  And I'm sorry, but nothing you say can compare to that.  You talk about it, but it holds a different weight when coming straight from the horse's mouth.  Especially when the "horse" is God.  Just sayin'. 

Do Hard Things.

I  had a new co-counselor this summer. Together, we hung out with twelve high school students for four weeks, cooking over a fire, hiking, and canoeing to name a few.  And we made it out alive.  And our kids did too.  Translation: success.

I joke that co-counseling with someone is like practice for marriage.  Decision making...together. Conflict resolution, taking care of children, and picking up after one another.  I'd like to think I'll make a better wife one day because I spent summers living with several dudes [all of them too legit too quit] in the wilderness trying to keep groups of kids alive.  You are bound to learn something in this context [more than just about what it might be like to be married to a male someday] and so here are a few lessons learned via my "better half".

He taught me the importance of vinegar in fried rice, especially on a large griddle over a fire.  Spitting, just for the heck of it. I somehow picked this up from him, a habit I am deserpately needing to break after my incident hocking a loogie in the mall parking lot wearing a dress.  Classy.  I learned how to hold the empties in my cheek while cracking the remainders on the opposite side.  I learned that not everyone from Arkansas listens to country music.  I learned the importance of standing firm.  After paddling back in an aluminum canoe in a thunderstorm, he taught me the importance of perspective.  He embodies Ephesians 4:15 "Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ", a necessary recurring lesson for me.

One of the biggest lessons however, the one that will stick with me, is simple.

Do hard things.

We decided this would be a good theme to talk to our kids about after a paddle across a lake in a wicked storm that left me praying for a helicopter. I hope they got something out of it.  I know I did.  So much so I've decided I'm framing our torn up map from the day-that-everything-went-wrong so I can hang it up on whatever walls I'm living in to remind me.  [and by the way the day-that-everything-went-wrong is a different day than the helicopter-prayer-day, just so there wasn't any confusion as to why getting everyone back alive was an accomplishment]

There will always be hard things.  Current hard thing: trust.  
Psalms has been my bread and butter the past few weeks.  Does not, "O God, Do Not Keep Silent", "Revive Us Again", "I Cry Out Day and Night Before You", and "Great Is Your Steadfast Love" sound like the greatest hits soundtrack for someone who is trying to figure out their life? Anyway, while they have been comforting, there is an occasional kick in the pants laced in there as well.

Incline your ear, O LORD, and answer me, for I am poor and needy.  [i feel like i am but really i'm just spoiled, scared, and lacking trust] Preserve my life, for I am godly; save your servant who trust in you-you are my God.  Psalm 86

That's bold.  God, I'm needy so take care of me because I'm living a life that reflects you.  I trust in you so SAVE ME.  I asked myself, "Self.  Can you say those things when you are asking God to save and preserve you? Can you confidently say, 'yup, I trust you'?"  Unfortunately, self didn't produce the answer I was looking for because often times I find myself in a state of fear.  Fear of wrong decision making.  Of opportunities missed.  Of being directionless all my life.  And it's really hard to trust when you are focused on your fear.  It sounds so simple.  Just TRUST.

Read Psalm 78 if you need a reminder of God's incredible patience, compassion and provision.  And if they just would have believed and trusted him to begin with things would have been much easier I'm sure.

A few weeks ago, to do hard things was to swim class five rivers and jump off a thirty foot cliffs.  Now it's learning to trust in God's steadfast love.  Slightly different I'd say.  The former just took a little adrenaline to achieve.  I see the latter taking a lifetime.

Both hard though.

Rain and Sleeping Bags.

I'm home sick for everywhere that isn't home.