Today is my 23rd birthday!
Every year I look forward to the next birthday because the number is bigger, people will take me more seriously, I'll be older and more experienced. My whole life I've been in a headlong rush toward my definition of importance.Then on my birthday, when I get there, that new number seems small again; I still feel young and incapable of slaying the dragons in my life.
I still feel like the little girl who loved to dress up in a bonnet and apron like Laura Ingalls Wilder.
I still feel like the tween who wasn't comfortable with her own body or personality most days.
I still feel like the teenager at boarding school, searching for her independence and making many, many wrong turns along the way.
I still feel like the college girl, striving to make new friends, falling in and out of love, and determining my priorities
I still feel like the recent grad, trying to make a name for herself in the professional world.
Well, I guess that last one still applies
I've always assumed that as I grew older I would feel different at different ages; many things about me have changed since I was younger, but so much about me has stayed the same. I feel like the same person because in many ways I am the same person.
I'm am often times insecure and unsure of how to rein in my awkwardness, I will probably always stay up into the wee hours of the night reading, and I continue to seek love with reckless abandon.
But I've also come to realize my priorities:
The last two years have sent me on a journey toward a real relationship with Christ. I was given a helluva wake-up call around my 21st birthday, and I couldn't be more thankful for the bad times that led me where I am.
I actively seek to be a blessing in a way I never have before
I truly want to help people, and I've realized that my gifts of sympathy and compassion, along wit make Birmingham the perfect place to start; there is so much need, right in my back yard.
I am in the process of conquering my fears of judgement. So many people just want love. I can love.
In a few months I will be marrying the Earthly love of my life. I am so excited about our life together, and the prospect of our service to one another and to the Kingdom of God.
During the season of Lent, instead of my usual "read through the New Testament," I am using the Lenten reading/prayer guide given to me by Trinity UMC. Today's reading was Psalm 23; one of the most familiar chapters in the world. Verses 1-4 have been heard so many times by Christians and non-believers alike that it has almost become cliche.
"The Lord is my shepherd" Yadda yadda (No blaspheme)
But today was the first time I've ever read the second half. Why is that? Why do we stop after the first half? It's just the best, and regarding all the love and blessings in my life, it just couldn't be more spot-on.
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Psalm 23: 5-6
The last few years have brought me an incredible outpouring of blessings; the cup of my happiness just seems to keep overflowing. I'm sure the Lord has so many more in store for me during my 24th year on Earth!
I also want to thank each and every one of you for your birthday wishes and prayers! I have rarely felt so blessed and loved.
Peace and Blessings, Y'all.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Praying in Ink
Confession: I don't pray well silently.
I used to really hate praying aloud, too, but my fiance has really helped me with that. We take turns blessing the meals we share out loud, and his example and load of practice have helped me know where to look for the words I want to use.
But praying silently? A rush of emotions. A jumble of thoughts. A massive word dump that I have trouble controlling.
It nearly always ends up going something like this, "Well, God, You know what is on my heart, you understand the issues I'm having. Hmmm I need to make sure I email my boss tomorrow and double check that we get that grant out the door. Bleah, my stomach is uncomfortable; did dinner tonight have dairy in it? I really wish it was easier for me to wake up in the mornings and get to the gym before work. Oh, yeah I'm supposed to be praying! Lord, please...."
While it may be true that God does know what is on my heart, and that sometimes my loquacious doesn't do me justice, that it is important for me to strive for articulation, if only for my own sake.
I've been a journaler for as long as I can remember. My first journal had tiny red, orange, and yellow flowers on the covers, and was a simple, lined-page, non-dated (my favorite format to this day) notebook that housed my activities, latest intellectual obsessions (let's be real, it was mostly Little House on the Prairie), mentions of the weather, and complaints about the behavior of my siblings.
As I grew older the subject matter of my journals changed, but my over all model of record didn't.
That has changed recently. I was writing in my brand new leather bound journal in January, expressing my concern over some matter, when all of the sudden, I wrote:
"Lord, please help me keep that energy and desire to please you and bring your kingdom to Earth. guide me through this week and help my actions reflect your love, grace, and benevolence. Give me the heart of a servant, the discernment of a wise man, and the will to accomplish your desires."
How refreshing it was to articulate my prayers! It wasn't just word vomit anymore, it was coherent thoughts and desires sitting on that page, the ink still glistening.
I'm hooked now; and while I do still say prayers in my heart, I've found that praying in ink gives me the chance to slow down, consider what my words and emotions mean, and let my prayers flow from my heart through my pen.
Peace and Blessings, y'all
Sunday, February 3, 2013
The Accessibility of Christ
I've been thinking about the accessibility of Jesus a lot lately.
I have several atheist and agnostic friends who, by the very definition of their professed lack of theological faith, have trouble understanding how I can believe, and profess, in a Being whose qualities are undefinable, whose physical presence is unattainable, and whose existence is unprovable in scientific terms.
It's something I struggle with to this day; wrapping my tiny little human brain around the concept of this incredible Being is nearly impossible for me. It's like trying to explain the ocean to a man in the desert, to help a young child picture Disney World when they've never heard of Mickey Mouse or Cinderella. It's like telling a person who has been bound to a wheelchair their entire lives that the way to the top of seventeen flights of stairs is to just stand up and walk.
We are handicapped by our own brains, because we can only relate to new things based on our prior experience. How could you relate the boundless grace and love of God in terms that are extra-human? Maybe I'm one of just a few with a handicapped tag hung on the rear-view mirror of my brain, but I think that Jesus was sent to us not only as the Holy Lamb to be sacrificed for our sins, he was not simply the bringer of the new covenant, but he was the world's greatest analogy. He was God's method of expressing himself in a way that was able to be understood by us who are limited by our experiences.
I was a huge Narnia fan when I was a squatch. I read them all countless times, in each instance marveling at the breathtaking beauty of the imagery ole Clive was able to construct, the bravery and believability of the Pevensie children, the recurring theme of sin and redemption, death and Resurrection.
C.S. Lewis was able to relay the story of Christ and the availability of Grace in a format that is easily accepted by children (and adults); one of adventure, talking animals, easily recognizable evil, sibling conflict. In essence, a fairy tale. Even growing up in a Christian home, I think I was a college student before I truly grasped how prescient Lewis was, and how big of an impact The Chronicles of Narnia would have on my faith journey.
One of my favored names for God is "I Am". It seems intentionally cryptic; we aren't intended to put God in a box of our own understanding. Conversely, my favorite moniker for Jesus is "The Light". He is love and grace and redemption revealed to us. He enables us to see, with unveiled eyes, the glory of our Heavenly Father. Jesus is there to be our life-sized context clue. He is the wheelchair ramp that enables us to overcome our handicap and pursue a relationship with the Lord.
I'm no theologian, by any means, but as when this little bit of an idea hit me, I couldn't help but share. As I venture deeper into a relationship with Christ, I get more and more excited about the different facets I get to glimpse.
Peace and Blessings, Y'all.
I have several atheist and agnostic friends who, by the very definition of their professed lack of theological faith, have trouble understanding how I can believe, and profess, in a Being whose qualities are undefinable, whose physical presence is unattainable, and whose existence is unprovable in scientific terms.
It's something I struggle with to this day; wrapping my tiny little human brain around the concept of this incredible Being is nearly impossible for me. It's like trying to explain the ocean to a man in the desert, to help a young child picture Disney World when they've never heard of Mickey Mouse or Cinderella. It's like telling a person who has been bound to a wheelchair their entire lives that the way to the top of seventeen flights of stairs is to just stand up and walk.
We are handicapped by our own brains, because we can only relate to new things based on our prior experience. How could you relate the boundless grace and love of God in terms that are extra-human? Maybe I'm one of just a few with a handicapped tag hung on the rear-view mirror of my brain, but I think that Jesus was sent to us not only as the Holy Lamb to be sacrificed for our sins, he was not simply the bringer of the new covenant, but he was the world's greatest analogy. He was God's method of expressing himself in a way that was able to be understood by us who are limited by our experiences.
I was a huge Narnia fan when I was a squatch. I read them all countless times, in each instance marveling at the breathtaking beauty of the imagery ole Clive was able to construct, the bravery and believability of the Pevensie children, the recurring theme of sin and redemption, death and Resurrection.
C.S. Lewis was able to relay the story of Christ and the availability of Grace in a format that is easily accepted by children (and adults); one of adventure, talking animals, easily recognizable evil, sibling conflict. In essence, a fairy tale. Even growing up in a Christian home, I think I was a college student before I truly grasped how prescient Lewis was, and how big of an impact The Chronicles of Narnia would have on my faith journey.
One of my favored names for God is "I Am". It seems intentionally cryptic; we aren't intended to put God in a box of our own understanding. Conversely, my favorite moniker for Jesus is "The Light". He is love and grace and redemption revealed to us. He enables us to see, with unveiled eyes, the glory of our Heavenly Father. Jesus is there to be our life-sized context clue. He is the wheelchair ramp that enables us to overcome our handicap and pursue a relationship with the Lord.
I'm no theologian, by any means, but as when this little bit of an idea hit me, I couldn't help but share. As I venture deeper into a relationship with Christ, I get more and more excited about the different facets I get to glimpse.
Peace and Blessings, Y'all.
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