Compelling Love

It's 7:22 pm, and I'm surviving with between 5 - 6 hours of sleep plus a nap today. (I really shouldn't be blogging. Ha! I say this a lot, don't I?) I'm listening to Times by Tenth Avenue North. Mmm. Sweet, hard memories.

And I'm weighed down by this thing called tiredness and by this unnamed thing. I'm not sure what it is. I think it's maybe fear. It's funny how fear compels us, how the strongest desire to run from any pain compels us. Or maybe it's just me. :) And right near me is this plaque. "Don't worry about anything -- instead, pray about everything. Tell God your needs and don't forget to thank Him for His answers. Philippians 4:6." It's hard to pray when you're not for certain of your needs. Maybe this is one of those moments when I try to simply open myself and let Him come in, let Him fix the ruins that fear has made, the ruins my sin has made, the ruins past pain has made. Maybe my only answer is "yes" . . . oh how hard it can be to simply say "yes." Why? I don't know . . . I guess it's because I'm afraid of the answers. I'm afraid of the implications. Or maybe I'm not afraid. Maybe I'm just so selfishly stubborn.

But I really do want love. I want that compelling love that God is. The love that casts out my fear of pain. I want that love that is light and all good, the love that heals after wounding. You know this love? And it's easy to talk about it, to desire it, but how do I open my heart enough to catch it? Or is catching love something done with open hands? Something you can't hoard. Something you stand in as you'd stand in torrential droplets, pouring from dark skies? Is it something that seeps into us as we read the living Word? What do you think?

Waters Rise

There's this little boy I can see from my window. He's dressed in a sailor blue raincoat, and I'm sure some rubber boots. It's sprinkling and gray outside, and in his hands, he's holding and twirling this hose, washing down his swing set. He must be around four. I just had to share because it's one of the cutest things I've seen in awhile. :) Oh, wait! There's another tike, except this one is barefoot and walking around with probably just a shirt and a diaper . . . oh boy. OH! You should see him! He's so cute. He's probably 2 or 3, and I think his momma just called him. I truly believe children are God's gift to the world.

But that really wasn't what I was going to blog about. I got distracted.

I'm scared. I journeyed out not that long ago into a place where I maybe shouldn't have been, and now I'm facing the rivers, praying that I can somehow relax in His arms as the waters rise.

And those words. Those "Be Still and Know that I AM GOD" words. Echo.

But Jesus? I'm SCARED.

But danae, I'm with you.

But Jesus?

danae, who am I?

I don't know if I know!

Hush. Be still. Be quiet. Let go. Relax your hands.

Who am I, danae?

You are God.

What does that mean, danae? That I am God?

It means You're in control, Jesus. It means that You're my castle and my refuge. It means that You know all, that You only can protect me fully, that my heart is safe in Your hands. Daddy, it means I don't have to worry, that I can hide in You.

"Be still my soul, the Lord is on your side."

Be still and know that God is GOD.

Heal the Wound

Heal the Wound
Jaime Jamgochian


"I used to wish that I could rewrite history
I used to dream that each mistake could be erased
Then I could just pretend I never knew the me back then

I used to pray that You would take this shame away
Hide all the evidence of who I've been
But it's a memory of the place You brought me from
That keeps me on my knees...and even though I'm free

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart and
Heal the wound but leave the scar

I have not lived that boasts of anything
And I don't take pride in what I bring
But I'll build an alter with the rubble that You found me in
And every stone will sing of what You can redeem

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart and
Heal the wound but leave the scar

Don't let me forget everything You've done for me
Don't let me forget the beauty in the suffering

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart and
Heal the wound but leave the scar"

I'm not sure I realized how much of the old I was holding onto. The old wounds were dying out, but they weren't correctly bandaged. I didn't realize how strongly I was trying to protect myself from pain and in so doing, how strongly I was saying "no" to Jesus, how I was withholding my trust and His full access into my whole life.

But You come like spring rains. "And I am unaware of the most extravagant of Your intentions."

And if you're reading this, and you don't understand, it's alright. But know this one thing . . . Father is so good. And His grace is astounding. He is Friend. He is Healer.

Crush

I'm so exhausted. I think I've reached my limit on being able to focus, yet still, here I am, blogging and listening to "Beautiful Things" by Gungor.

"All this pain, I wonder if I'll ever find my way, I wonder if my life could ever change at all."

Do you know those moments? Those dusty, dirty times of thirst? When Jesus, You seem oh so far away, farther than the constellations, and I'm here, waiting, simply wanting to crawl into Your lap and just cry and hear You say that I'm safe and at home, that I can be weak for awhile. You'll be the Strong.

"You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of the dust."

Jesus? I've made so many messes, and if I'm to be honest, even here at Bible college, I feel so separated from You, and I don't know how to crumple this void of my own making. Are You sure You can make beautiful things out of this?

"You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of us."

Oh Jesus, I love You. Thank You for taking Peter back. I love that story, of Him denying You yet You invited Him back and cooked Him breakfast. Your grace is overwhelming. Teach me what it means to really love You? To die.

"You make me new, You are making me new."

Please crush this cocoon, Lord. Even if it hurts. I need You. I want You, Jesus.

Love, Yours.

Exercise

I guess my blogger life is somewhat suffering now that I've taken to college, but I still wanted to post, even though I shouldn't. For goodness gracious it's 11:46 pm. :) But I want to make this quick and real. I took a survey today for my Spiritual Life class, assessing my spiritual life thus far. Wow. There are so many things that it brought out that I need to work on. Like prayer for one, like thanking God for one.

Okay, here's an exercise in thanks maybe if I can keep it real.

746. For laughing like mad with friends while being sleep deprived.

747. Hearing other sweet girls' laugh.

748. Learning about things that I need to do better, about how much more I need to grow spiritually.

749. One other college student (girl) telling me I was beautiful. That was such a sweet gift.

750. Mom and Dad and Briana bringing yummy food and beautiful flowers to me.

751. Being able to see family and going to cousin's wedding.

752. Being in a small, college group at a church and meeting sweet people.

753. Working on the elliptical for around 20 minutes. (YES, JESUS! We did it!)

754. Sweet friends coming and visiting me at college.

755. Passing my quizzes today.

Thanks.

Soar Me Heavenward

I'm pretty sure it's Wednesday. This first classes week at college has gone so slow. It hasn't been bad necessarily but somewhat overwhelming. Thankfully, I was able to get a lot of things written in my planner. Just in case you needed to know this information . . . ? :)

I read today in Luke about how the things that men value aren't what God values. I read about the rich man and Lazarus. Ironic, isn't it, that even after the big name I'm sure the rich man made for himself here, it didn't matter in Heaven. He was the rich man, and the poor man got the name. The rich man was so wanting to add up the good times on this side of the veil, he rejected the other side. I do that too. I forget that this isn't all there is, that, when I'm weighing a big decision, missed opportunities for pleasure or comfort won't matter after I walk through the thresholds of this other place. Do I value the things God does? Or am I stuck in this gravity of earth? Soar me heavenward, Jesus.

I want to be real here, never caught up in the spirituality of a Bible college. I want to soak up Jesus and understand how desperately I need Him. President Dan Lockwood gave the student body three special challenges yesterday based off of Isaiah's vision of God's holiness. He told us to 1) take a glance at God's holiness, 2) understand our own helplessness and uncleanness, and I believe the 3) was to grasp His grace. Good words. Words I'll leave you with as I finish checking e-mails and get ready for my first class of the day . . . Intro to Church Ministry. So farewell. For now :)