Tuesday, February 18, 2014

On the Wind of Twenty-One Breaths

It's been my Multnomah tradition since year one that I sit and blog the night before my personal new year.

So here I am. :)

I'm in a different dorm this year. A different stage in life. A very different state of mind as I type.

And I don't know what year twenty-two holds, but my prayer is that it's marked by Faith and More. More of Jesus.

Much, much more of Jesus.

And less of whatever it takes . . . to have more.

I hope to blog more soon, but tonight, I sign off for the last time as a twenty-one year old with my last  Facebook status that shares what's been ringing through my heart these past few days. He is up to something!

Much love!

"You call me out upon the waters . . . "

Jesus, please call me. Call me to come to You. Call me to step foot into the indented earth Moses walked on. My feet are smaller, but surely these footsteps can lead me to You? 

I won't lie. I can't. I'm translucent, and You see through the tunneled arteries and veined lies. I'm scared. You call me out, and it costs all. I'm afraid of the cost, but I'm also afraid that I'll step out and turn my eyes toward the people in the stands . . . instead of You. Instead of You, my Love. I'm afraid of what is in my own heart.

This is a new season, isn't it? Open-ended unknown, and You call me to lay down, to speak from the inner parts I unknowingly hide. To let the unheard monsters, silently destroying, find light and die there exposed.

I am all in for radical . . . the faithful, persistent, visionary kind, what Ann Voskamp calls the "gritty radical." I'm all in. I'm in for seeing His kingdom really come. I know there is no other way to live except to live by the "Yes, Lord." These monsters need to die. The fear cannot keep me away from You. This thirst for affirmation will not steal my love for You.

So please, please call me to come. I'll trip on the way . . . I know it. I'll forget who I am, and I'm bound to forget who You are, but if You'll be patient (You are) . . . if You help me be brave and firm (You do) . . . if You'll be slow to anger, merciful, gracious (You will be) . . . I'll sure try.

Today is a new day.

Saturday, February 8, 2014

The Name of Twenty-Fourteen

Once upon a time, the world turned 2014, and somehow I celebrated her birthday and forgot to write the card -- the January blog post.

I lost myself and the words in the whirlwind of January and now a blizzard of a February just arrived, and it's time I take a few minutes to breathe, reflect, focus.

The snow slows everything down. I love that. My school has been closed since Thursday afternoon due to snow, and while a bunch are getting a little stir crazy, it is the sweetest thing to be together, to just sit and pause and watch the Olympics on a Saturday night or to try sledding or snow-angel-making or hot-chocolate-drinking . . . together.

And as the snow slows me down, I take a break away from the togetherness to be together with you, to share with you about this new 2014 and the gift I've been given in it.

The gift is in the word. Several bloggers have chosen to pick one word for their year. To mark and measure their year by their one, handpicked word. I'm pretty sure I've done that before, but I don't remember what my other words had been. I know I often take a long time pondering (aka over thinking) such things . . . it always has to be perfect. The right word. Right nuance.

But this year, the word given me was given clearly and simply and quickly.

The word of 2014 is nothing remarkably unique or creative or controversial.

But it's the bridge that bears me up over oceans.

I am called to possess it, to choose it when those oceans rage anger.

Or even when they seem hauntingly, beautifully calm.


I've walked the Bible way since I was old enough to read and think. I'm learning to walk the Jesus way, intentionally and purposefully, and sometimes, all the Bible words I danced with when I was little have been misunderstood and seem too quiet.

But faith is no bland word. It's not self-defined by my Christian-ese.

No. Faith is powerful.

It's active and difficult and strong, and without it, there is no way I can even please my Father God.

There is NO WAY! Yet I admit bashfully and somewhat shamefully . . . I'm not even sure I know what it means.

I think I've learned a little in these past few weeks.

I'm excited to share and yet to also keep extending myself into this powerful believing and trusting that I don't fully understand yet but for which I am grasping. Come with me? Maybe we can figure some of this out together. In the snow. Or the freezing rain. Or in whatever way sweet Oregon ends up displaying her affection.

All God's peace!