Own special way...

Saturday
I GRADuated.
I sat in a crowed auditorium with a silly hat and listened to old men

(not one woman spoke, hmmm)                                                         praise me for all

my 

smarts.

I blinked, flipped my ring, and marched out into the bright sunshine. 

Four years are through. 

I hugged the hell out of all my friends, stuffed mugs and books into card board boxes and drove away from my sweet town.  I love Abilene. But I also know when it's time to leave. For me, it was May 15th, 2011. I may go back, but for now I waved goodbye. 

I noticed TWO things this weekend. ONE: My Mom. TWO: My Dad. 

They both know how to love me in their own special way.

Mom has a heart of a servant and the metaphorical strength of an Ox. 

She walked into my cluttered house and stared at the packing attempt I had made, stuffing mugs into plastic bins. With an exasperated sigh, she rolled up her sleeved and began to carefully pack away each of my precious mementos. There are some things I just could not do without my mother.

Dad has the precious ability to delicately embrace me when I am unaware of my need to cry.  

I sobbed into my Dad's shoulder, leaving hurts the soul.  All he said was, "you're sad." Somehow he knows. My Dad sees my deep sadness, masked by an excited trip. I will absolutely miss my college life, but I will not allow it to be the end of all good things. 

The 

 peak...

In the words of the 

great John Avery Whitaker

__"The best is yet to come." __

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"Awake, O sleeper,
and arise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you."

Amil, a teen with a youthful face, grew up up in cardboard hut, surviving solely on bits of flat bread, pick pocketing in the dense city center of Cairo, and three eastward prayers between sunrise and sunset.

Amil's dark features were tense as he tucked his head between his skinny knees, crouching in the dark, endless corridor.

An eternal waiting room, smothered him.

Whispers of the unseen ricocheted off the walls around Amil. Rumors, snippets of conversations about Allah and his son, a god who Amil had never heard of, called Jesus.

Fear twisted in his gut, who was this Christ, the whispers claimed those who had known this Jesus would be invited to live eternally with Allah.

Pools gather around Amil, tears shed by him and others forming tiny rivers down the middle of the flat corridor. He could feel the presence of people around him, all mumbling in their own language. And yet strangely, he understood it all.

Suddenly the darkness was pushed away, it fled into nothing and was replaced by white hot light, piercing Amil's eyes...he kneeled as only he knew how, and began to chant in respectful consternation. A hand, expansive as the ocean, tenderly placed a warm shelter over his head and asked Amil, will you deny yourself and follow me?

Jesus, Yeshua, stood with strong and gentle arms spread wide in an anticipating hug, Amil wept.

Death had come, robbing him in the night from a life of poverty.

Amil clasped the arm of Christ and pleaded, " Allah, Yeshua, I want you."

The GIVER. Meyers Briggs. ENFJ.

Genuinely and warmly interested in people

Value people's feelings

Value structure and organization

Value harmony, and good at creating it

Exceptionally good people skills

Dislike impersonal logic and analysis

Strong organizational capabilities

Loyal and honest

Creative and imaginative

Enjoy variety and new challenges

Get personal satisfaction from helping others

Extremely sensitive to criticism and discord

Need approval from others to feel good about themselves

The GIVER. Meyers Briggs. ENFJ.

Genuinely and warmly interested in people

Value people's feelings

Value structure and organization

Value harmony, and good at creating it

Exceptionally good people skills

Dislike impersonal logic and analysis

Strong organizational capabilities

Loyal and honest

Creative and imaginative

Enjoy variety and new challenges

Get personal satisfaction from helping others

Extremely sensitive to criticism and discord

Need approval from others to feel good about themselves

Live it up.

Finding my voice, my courage

is

so

terrifying.

Placing my heart on the platter of vulnerability is just not

my

style.

In many ways, I am just not willing to give up the mystery of what's to come. The freedom of imagining what could be instead of living in the present consistency of my current reality.

This takes GUMPTION...something I don't know I have.

Ask me

what I believe today and I could not tell you.

and then I read this...

"If GOD gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers- most of which are never seen- don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What i'm trying to do here is get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all you everyday human concerns will be met."

Limbo.

There is a deep fear clouding my mind and nauseating my stomach.
Age frightens me. Wrinkles frighten me.
I am afraid of being a mother, a wife, an employee.
I am afraid of leaving and i am afraid of staying.
I am afraid of being what evereyone wants me to be, and afraid of being someone no one wants.
I am afraid of getting it wrong.


I suppose that covers it...

Mission, Texas.

My friend Treg is so talented.

E

n

j

o

y

this song by him.

Admit One.

I clutch a tiny Ticket

wrinkled, dusted and Faded;

it tumbled Haphazardly

around, up and Down;

I run all over to Escape

and yet every time my eyes are Lifted,

it rests at our Feet.

with a final Surrender

I bend scrape my hands in the Dirt

and pull the ticket to my Chest.

I begin by shuffling to the Counter

voices whisper that this is Sill

a ticket, a Stupid

little gift to be Redeemed?

I quiver, hesitate and then Begin

to sloppily run like a new born Deer.

nothing will stop Me.

not Now.

I slam it on the ticket Counter

and scream Redemption!

immediately I am wrapped in a Tight,

smothering Warmth.

an embrace so new and yet Known.

familiar and Overwhelming.

Majesty.

Finally.

This weekend...

I

went here with Julie.

I

refurbished my desk.

I

can hardly

believe that

I

FINISHED a project.

New knobs.

New paint.

And a new top.

Very musical.

Not perfect, but just right for me.

It reminds me of this...

And the best part was on

SUNDAY

I drove to a local park, plugged in my ear buds and jammed out to

Mumford and Sons

while SWINGING my heart out. For the oddest reason this brought immense

Peace.

Contentment.

I was sure of my place and identity, there was no doubting the hand of God

cupped around my life.

And then my pants ripped.

Life is so comical.

A weekend with friends.

Tonight I was disappointed. Selfishly.

I was graciously awarded both a Silver and Bronze for excellent video pieces. But

what

is

it

about second place that let's us down?

I am absolutely afraid of the

"B"

team.

I want to be praised for my talent and creativity.

I prepared speeches of acceptance and had the walk down.

Oh

sweet humility.

What an honor to be recognized. To remember that my tiny talents are simple offerings. Because ultimately I will never be the whole, the 'it'. I am a tiny piece of a community, a component of the whole.

Praise be to the giver of

t

a

l

e

n

t.

Turkey Day 5K....The Video

The Art Show

Sing Winter | Jonathan & Melissa Helser

If ever there was a worship song...

I love the UNIQUE descriptions and praises. Here is just that.

Dear generic Christian music,

step away from the word "awesome" and put down the capo. Throw out the endless strumming and pick a little. Put aside culture catch phrases about us making a difference, quick mimicking Katy Perry and the Black Eyed Peas...and just worship.

Sleeves.

Today I was

G

R

U

M

P

Y. My boss made a very strong suggestion that I visit the Abilene Jail tonight for Pioneers jail ministry. I didn't understand what kind of business I was getting into and was sure I had no potential to influence criminals in orange jump suits with orange crocs. And of course, because of a volunteer shortage I was told to go onto the Male side. YIKES.

B

U

T

G

U

E

S

S

What?

As all ministry goes, they rocked me.

a BUNCH

of

old men

young men

bearded men

baby faced

tatted all over

strong jawed

weak kneed

people who were looking for just a little something.

Jesus? maybe.

Relationship, freedom, love, grace, community, belonging, an escape? Absolutely.

So hear is the beauty, they did not know it, but Jesus is

A

L

L

of this and more. Papa scoops up every goodness and light we are scrambling for and dumps it on our heads. I looked into the faces of those hard men as I stumbled through old hymns. I saw my fear melt in a tidy puddle on the floor and dry up. Nothing but sons of God, Boet, Papa.

Oh how he loves them.

Oh how he loves me.

Heaven meets earth with

a Sloppy

wet

kiss.

Oh how he loves.

Under Water.

The

O

N

L

Y

thing that keeps us under water is pride.

If I dive thinking there is a way to breath without oxygen

I

am

a

fool.

I will flap my arms in distress and cry out to

God

for a little

Grace

and a lifejacket

and then ignore the able and willing Bodies looking on in shared distress.

"Hey!" they cry out.

"Can W

E

help?"

I can only ignore them for so long before

my lungs begin to fill with salty water; reality.

A purple face and tears that squeeze out and float

away

just as every other self provision.

And then I plead with

God

one more time for a little

Grace.

Help.

Something.

And then God sighs and loving,

gently,

taps a Body.

They respond in obedience and complete knowledge

of flesh/pride keeping us underwater.

The Body know the importance of responding when

I, like the Body, refused to recognize stubbornness and pride.

So in absolute desperation

I surrender

and am

overwhelmed by

Grace.

Day 1.

For Break

fast I ate oatmeal and an orange.

It is funny how purposefully changing your

diet

drastically changes how the

D

A

Y

is planned.

I mad e

the decision to BIKE with my gloved hands

cupped around a ceramic mug spilling over with

oats and

flax.

I made it to class with Z

E
R
O

accidents but it sure was a close call.

For Lunch

I slobbered over the steamy pizza

each of my SABERS munched on

while I enjoyed a nice bowl of

1/2 tomato

1/4 eggplant

1/4 Squash

1/2 can Black Beans

1/2 bag frozen corn

lemon wedge

2 tbls Apple Cider Vinegar

2 tbls EVOO

and a flour tortilla

s

p

r

e

a

d

with natural peanut butter and raw sunflower sEEds.

YUM

TThe rest of the day has greeted me with waves of headaches and fatigue. But do not worry, all is good and I will enjoy the rain/snow tonight and a bowl of sautéed veggies. SOUP tomorrow.

struggles

J

A

C

O

B Wrestles with GOD. genesis 32:22-32

He leaves with a limp & a B

L

E

S

S

I

N

G

I like Jacob, am Isreal...

translated: to wrestle (struggle) with GOD.

we CANNOT know all the

ANSWERS

BUT

we CAN know

GOD.

I am sitting on the eve of a time set aside to practice discipline and spiritual renewal. At first I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to discover the lay out of my life's "next step".

However, together with my community, we studied the story of Jacob and his turmoil with Boet (God). As I begin the Daniel Fast tomorrow morning, I will reject my tendencies to over plan my long term schedule, and instead attempt to become intimately aware of the Father's love for me. To know H

I

M

Daniel

"I heard his voice. At the sound of it I fainted, fell flat on the ground, face in the dirt. A hand touched me and pulled me to my hands and knees."
Daniel Chapter 10.


It would make sense to enjoy long hours spent with our parents and siblings when we are young and have luxurious amounts of time on our hands. It would be sensible to enjoy stimulating conversation and hysterical competition on the Wii Fit. Maybe a casual meal around the old kitchen table and an hour of sitting and arguing about theology, political justifications and the biology of man.

I am graduating from Hardin-Simmons in May and will surely miss the long Christmas breaks between semesters. This holiday season I made a discovery-- I thoroughly enjoy my family. If only this had been a discovery at the beginning of college rather than the end.
Irony is defined as: "the incongruity of this"

I spent one week at home and was full of good buttery food and wisdom. Now I will admit, there were the unavoidable frustrations that sprout when dealing with family. Unavoidable because my mom has known me before I even knew me and we struggle with control, pride and independence. In tender moments of vulnerability, over coffee or gift wrapping, I saw my mom in all her beauty and struggle. I saw the sacrifice and passion of a strong women.
And I saw myself.

Occasionally I view knowledge as odious. How can something considered to be so valued and precious cause hatred and division, contempt and repulsion. Knowledge, much like faith, should be a dance inviting all to join. Yet I find myself lording this gift over others, especially those who know me in my most human ways. I am learning that the more knowledge I gain the less I truly know.
Irony is defined as: "the incongruity of this"

As I come to enjoy my family I am learning that it takes the constant choice to forgive and to love. To heal.

Every day I fall flat on my face, and the grace of Boet(God) lifts me up slowly. Reminding me I am Chosen, Holy, Dearly Loved, and the Child of God.

What a happy holiday.