Begin.

Redemption Taking Hold

2009-05-11T14:10:00.003-05:00

Hello friends and faithful readers,

Starting this Sunday, I will officially be a Kansas City girl! I am joining up with the team at the U.S. headquarters of 24-7 Prayer (not to be confused with IHOP, for those of you familiar). Essentially, I will be living as a missionary. I'll be writing loads of stories and working on the communication side of things for the Campus America initiative, which is a thriving part of the greater 24-7 network. It is an immense blessing and honor to join in this movement that is largely global and expanding rapidly. Although I'm sad to bid my current community here in Oklahoma farewell and to pack up the last five years of my life, God is certainly behind all this and changing me rather deeply in the process.

So, in honor of this new season in life, I felt it appropriate to start a new blog. From now on, you can find me here. I look forward to having you all along for the journey.

-r

A Glimpse

2009-04-08T15:58:00.002-05:00

Some excerpts of a piece I'm writing, but not sure what to do with just yet. It's fictional, but true to life as I know it.

//

Creak. Creak. Shuffleshuffleshuffle.

He came in.

Like an unassuming breeze, steady, confident, inconspicuous. I was lost in a world of wakeful dreams, but managed to nod kindly at him as he approached my table. He smiled warmly at me through sleepy eyes. After exchanging friendly banter with the barista—a tall, powerfully present man with dreadlocks and dark eyes that could look into the soul—he took a few steps my way, once again catching my absent-minded gaze.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He asked quietly.

//

“I see rhythm,” I said, nodding toward the world outside the windows.
“Can you hear it, too?”
“Not really. It’s so insulated in here. I see it more than I hear it. Or maybe I feel it. In fact, I can almost taste it. It’s like this strange familiarity in a land that isn’t my own just yet. Like a memory of a dream that you’d forgotten about. It’s like I’m laying in my bed, just waking up and trying really hard to remember what it was about, or who was in it. It makes me feel bold, but timid. It’s like I feel like I could pen a million words, but then stare at a blank page with nothing to say.”

//

+

2009-03-18T10:57:00.002-05:00

Rushing, crashing, moving, changing.

The mysterious power of the constantly moving water captured me. I was pensive, broken and in many ways, still reeling from the seemingly abrupt transition which marked the season of my life. The truth is that it had been coming along. I had even seen it approaching. But there on those shorelines, I felt the sting of rejection, the sorrow of goodbyes and the uncertainty of the future now keeping stride with me. I had been running so hard for so long that they had scarcely caught up with me before. I had kept them at bay, but now they were coming in with the crashing waves, wearing away at my pathetic façade. Slowly…surely…I began to feel the life-giving breath of my Creator once again.

Rushing, crashing, moving, changing.

A year later, I was there again, very much mended and transformed...but still broken, all the same. The moon shone fiercely as a dear friend and I let the sand invade the spaces between our toes. We shared memories and the stories of the last year of our lives at a leisurely pace, peering across the darkened shoreline and the moonlit waves. The wee hours overtook us as we talked. Much had changed, but some things had remained exactly as we left them the summer before, somehow enshrined in the golden memories we had collected. And I could hear the waves beckoning, once again. But this time, He told me that their presence meant it was time to go…not stay.

Rushing, crashing, moving, changing.

I find myself a few moons short of yet another year from that place. The power and revelation of God that I found in those waves lingers still. Oftentimes, my heart hurts for the shorelines where I grew up. It seems that every visit, and every departure, makes my fondness and reverence for it grow. Some nights I lie in bed and can almost hear the sound of those all-too-distant waves. And I know, beyond any shadow of doubting, that His everlasting arms are wrapped around me still. The sound of the waves in my ears, in my heart, reminds me that I find myself perfectly at Home.

Rushing, crashing, moving, changing.

From Africa, With Love

2009-03-02T19:08:00.003-06:00

In about three months, I will be traveling to Uganda, Africa. I am unspeakably excited about this journey. I'll be spending a few weeks there with a team of about 40-50 others, the vast majority of whom I won't meet until we converge in NYC to fly on to Entebbe. We'll be spending most of our time in Jinja and its surrounding villages, along with (hopefully) Kampala. I'll have my camera in hand, my pen at the ready and my eyes and heart wide open. Who knows what adventure will unfold.

Head on over to my Africa blog to keep tabs on how things are going. If you're interested in supporting my trip, please feel free to e-mail me at abide (dot) photography (at) gmail (dot) com and I can provide you with the necessary information to make sure you get a nifty little tax-deduction form.

Much love!
-R

The Maker of the Stars

2009-02-27T09:50:00.003-06:00

Sleepy eyes and explosions in the sky.
An aching heart, yet full of love…beating so imperfectly.
Lungs now filled with faith…breathing…breathing…breathing…
A life that’s growing, moving, being.

A steady rhythm driving.
A rhythm far beyond.
A rhythm deep within.
A song that all creation knows…and sings along.

Rising, falling, ebbing, flowing
All the while our hearts are showing
Who we are and who You are
Breathe in the Maker of the stars

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2009-01-12T23:00:00.002-06:00

[Flickr]

//

Resolve [revisited]

2008-12-27T18:11:00.005-06:00

Every once in a while, I take a turn through my old blog entries. I find it fascinating to see what was rolling around inside my head back then. Tonight I looked back and found an entry from one year ago. I believe I was sitting right where I am now (on my bed at my parents' house, far away from the lands of Oklahoma). I had compiled a list of New Year's resolutions. Here is what they were, and how I feel I did with each of them:

As ever, draw closer to God. (Successful. Except I have realized that He draws closer to me far more often than I do to Him, for which I am incredibly grateful. He is so very faithful.)

Be more intentional with others. (Successful. I moved in with three other girls for this very purpose, and found myself pulled into a beautiful community of Christians. Honestly, though, I still fight to let myself know and be known. Don't we all?)

Read (and actually finish) a decent number of books. (I finished one. It was worth it. My list last year was a bit lofty.)

Try to write a novel. (I wrote my heart out, but not for a novel. I have a lot of life to live before I think I can offer something novel-worthy.)

Hone my photography skills. (Successful. I made some investments into equipment and took opportunities to get experience. I am loving every minute of it.)

Journal more often. (This one was up and down. Lately...not so much journaling.)

Get some art on my walls. (Successful. I started painting a lot more and nearly all the art in my room at our house is my own.)

Play more shows. (Not so successful. I played one. But, on the other hand, I started leading worship for sets at every Burn that I could. It's a make you/break you sort of experience to play the 2 a.m. set and to realize what it means to have an audience of One. Needless to say, it changed me deeply.)

//

Now for (a few of) the 2009 resolutions, for those of you who care to know.

Go to Africa. I have plans that include Uganda and Kenya. More on this later.

Tell the stories of others more often. One of the reasons I have been relatively silent in the "blogosphere" lately is because I've gotten tired of hearing my own voice. After taking a few steps back to examine the creative aspects of my life as a whole (writing, music, photography, art), I realized that I need/want to spend more time pouring myself into art that tells the story of others. Again, more on this later.

Learn to tell my story better. I know this may sound like it conflicts with the last resolution I listed, but in truth, they are inseparable. As I learn more about the stories of others (and most importantly, how they weave into God and His Kingdom), I will hopefully learn to tell my own story in a way that is humble and effective. I realize this all may sound a bit transcendent. That's probably because it is.

Stop trying to keep my best foot forward. It is not worth the time and effort to try to maintain a perfectly agreeable image with others. Real community and relationship are forged in the fires of the nitty gritty.

//

There are, of course, the more cliché and nonetheless important items on my list. But enough of that.

What are some of your New Year's resolutions for 2009?

The Art of Broom Pushing

2008-12-14T22:41:00.002-06:00

It was the part of the morning where the sun started its climb higher into the sky. Its slanted rays burst through the windows, cutting a path through the haze and dust of the gym where I stood. The grogginess of my altercation with my alarm clock that morning lingered still. With dust mop in hand, I began my usual routine.

Push. Pace. Pray. Repeat.

It was my favorite part of the day. Solitude and a simple, humble task at hand. Time to think and pray and come fully awake before the rest of our daily tasks of housekeeping at the camp would commence. Even though my days of scrubbing toilets for Jesus are about a year-and-a-half removed now, I cherish that season of life. At times, I even long to go back to making minimum wage and spending my afternoons off traipsing along the shores of Lake Michigan with friends. There was something sacred about that time.

Nearly every summer for five years, I found myself at that camp. Pushing a broom. Scrubbing a toilet. Getting new towels for mothers with impressively messy children. Many times, it was a place of healing. Something about working through the mundane, and often disgusting, tasks of housekeeping gave opportunity for God to teach me a thing or two about service, humility and obedience.

Many-an evening were spent sitting on the beach, listening to the waves and watching the sun paint the horizon as it set. We would take late night walks, listening to the wind rustle through the dune grass and watching the moon dance on the water. I could reminisce for hours about the memories made in that place. And as insignificant as a job like housekeeping may seem on a resume...to me, it was deeply impacting. It is integral to my story.

Push. Pace. Pray. Repeat.

Sometimes God puts us in a place where we are over-qualified for our position, just to teach us to slow down and to embrace the season. He sets us in the midst of a situation where what is expected of us is far less than what we are capable of doing. Sometimes, He calls us to push a broom before we take that dream job or go overseas to be a missionary or start that project that has been burning in our hearts for years. Sometimes He even takes us out of our present accomplishments and reduces us to that place of simplicity, just so we can get past ourselves and back to Him again. Just so we can hear Him speak.

Push. Pace. Pray. Repeat.

Against the backdrop of many irons in the fire and more than one dream coming true in my life, I long for that place of simplicity again. A season where things are stripped down and relatively uncomplicated. In the same breath, I realize that we are prone to spend too much of our lives wishing for something more. Something less. Something different. So instead, I choose to be all here. All now. Entirely present.

Being content regardless of circumstance is much more than just a lesson learned. It is an attitude of heart adopted. A lifelong pursuit of something far greater than our own gain. Infinitely beyond our grasp. It is giving our lives away for an end entirely impossible to reach by human hands. An end that can only be accomplished through God’s plan, orchestration, wisdom and grace. And, when the time comes, the willingness to let it all go and begin once again.

Push. Pace. Pray. Repeat.

Epic Route

2008-11-18T13:48:00.004-06:00

I was trying to find directions from a friend's town to Seattle...got her town name wrong...and this is what snarky old Google Maps gave me for "Seattle, WA" to "Lyndon, WA" (apparently in Australia). I laughed out loud.

[I recommend the bigger size to see just how epic and ridiculous those directions are...]

Anybody have a kayak handy?

Pins and Needles

2008-11-05T16:22:00.001-06:00

The blood rushed desperately back into my leg as I unfolded it from underneath me. It was as if I was aware every single cell as it pushed its way through the veins and revived what was once asleep and, if cut off long enough, dead.

They were pins and needles, pulsating their way into position.

Part of me wanted to fold my leg back under me, to retreat to what was numb and comfortable. It is much less complicated to feel nothing. To stay in a place of perpetual sleep, unaware of the world and its complicated circulation of pride, pain, doubt and fear. But this same circulation somehow intermingles with beauty, hope, peace and rest. It is wrapped up in Christ, the only One who can truly offer life.

What is it about being revived that frightens us so much? We all have dead or dying parts of our lives. We all have our vices. We cover them up with a myriad of defense mechanisms and try hard to keep our best foot forward with the people around us…even with perfect strangers. I am guilty as charged. We were broken from the start, shattered by the fall of man. But then we were redeemed, revived, renewed, invited to become a family. To live, breathe, eat, work, play, study, serve, create, pray and abide together.

We are charged with a purpose, a calling, to spread the Kingdom of God far and wide. To bring Christ to all people. To be Christ to all people. It may sound simple or, God forbid, redundant. But if we realized what exactly it was that we were being offered, our lives would go up in smoke in an instant. Recklessly abandoned to this purpose. This calling. This reason we exist and draw in breath day after day.

Pins and needless…bringing lifeblood and revival.

The cost of coming alive in such a way is painful and seemingly insurmountable to most. Each day, I very keenly feel the weight of my own humanity in my chest. It is fighting furiously to smother the fire burning inside me for God and His people. Distractions overtake me. My gifts become my stumbling block. My very passion becomes elusive. Distraction breeds mediocrity, and mediocrity is not in God’s plan.

But my wake up call came not long ago, marked with shouting, shaking, tears and fervent prayers. Those who know me well realize that it takes quite a bit to get me to a place of such extreme emotion and expression. A terrifying dream I can’t remember (for a reason, He told me) woke me from my sleep, quite rudely and suddenly. It took some time and effort before I could get back to sleep in those wee hours. Ever since, I have fought to keep the revelation I had that night at the forefront of my life.

There is a battle raging. Darkness to be driven out. And we must be willing to wake up, to come alive, and to walk with it, run with it, live with it, bear with it, break with it. We must allow the numbness to subside, no matter how great the cost or the pain it takes to come alive again. Fortunately enough, pain has a way of stripping us down to gritty reality.

Pins and needles...catalyzing truth.

I can’t go on being like the rich young ruler, who knew discipline and humility, but lacked one thing…a heart that would willingly obey. Abandon all and follow. It is easy to pen words that sound good and that even come from a place of genuine passion. But it is another thing to work it out and walk it through, especially in community. To sell it all and give it to the poor. To actively seek God's grace and love together, right along with His discipline and rebuke.

Even if we try and fail miserably over and over…He is still crazy about us. Still calling us. Still beckoning us to take on this life He has fashioned. He is a jealous God, not consumed by sinful desire but burning up with pure, holy passion for His people. And He will not…can not…relent until our hearts are fully His.

Brothers and sisters, let us lock step with the rhythm of the Kingdom together.

Pins and needles. Pulsating. Lifeblood. Revival. Reality. Truth.

Sacred Spaces

2008-11-04T09:58:00.007-06:00

[KC Boiler Room community, second floor]

//

I spent the weekend driving with some dear friends to a few different Boiler Room communities around the midwest. It was an incredible, eye-opening experience. In the process, I managed to surprise my family with a visit to Michigan. My grandma has been in the hospital for a few months recovering from a broken femur (and the consequential discovery of + angioplasty due to a nearly entirely blocked artery in her heart). She has been through so much...and the look on her face when I walked in was priceless! It was a joy to see my family...and to acquire some new family members during our "pilgrimage" this weekend. I fell in love with the people and places we met. I got a healthy dose of fall foliage, stunning sunsets, sunrises and starry nights, lively conversations, the open road, good music and coffee and endless photo ops.

It is a bit too much to put into words at this point...but some of the revelation and inspiration that came along with the weekend will more than likely come out in my writing as we all process and reflect.

//

Brew

2008-10-26T19:39:00.004-05:00

Producer of many-a steamy breve.

[Click the photo for a bigger version]

//

What is your favorite brew or drink?

Saint Augustine

2008-10-19T21:50:00.005-05:00

"What art Thou then, my God? What, but the Lord God? For who is the Lord but the Lord? or who is God save our God? Most highest, most good, most potent, most omnipotent; most merciful, yet most just, most hidden, yet most present; most beautiful, yet most strong; stable, yet incomprehensible; unchangeable, yet all-changing; never new, never old; all-renewing, and bringing age upon the proud, and they know it not; ever working, ever at rest; still gathering, yet nothing lacking; supporting, filling, and over-spreading; creating, nourishing, and maturing; seeking, yet having all things. Thou lovest, without passion; art jealous, without anxiety; repentest, yet grievest not; art angry, yet serene; changest Thy works, Thy purpose unchanged; receivest again what Thou findest, yet didst never lose; never in need, yet rejoicing in gains; never covetous, yet exacting in usury. Thou receivest over and above, that Thou mayest owe; and who hath aught that is not Thine? Thou payest debts, owing nothing; remittest debts, losing nothing. And what have I now said, my God, my life, my holy joy? or what saith any man when he speaks of Thee? Yet woe to him that speaketh not, since mute are even the most eloquent."

[The Confessions of St. Augustine, book I]

//

//

I spent the weekend with about 15 other young adults at a retreat centered around Celtic monasticism and the via crucis (the way of the cross). It was a unique experience, to say the least. We were at a church on the edge of downtown and in the middle of an area where drugs, violence and poverty are very present. Essentially, we took things slowly, prayed a lot and got away from the noise. We practiced many of the same things that Celtic monks would, like studying the word, focusing on community, taking a vow of silence one night and structuring our day around several times of prayer and meditation. I knew there was power in liturgy and such, but I had never experienced it like this.

Oddly enough, I started reading The Confessions of St. Augustine shortly before I learned that the retreat would be centered around monasticism. Augustine's words can be difficult to grasp. I get lost in all the "Thee" and "Thou" of it sometimes, but something undeniably resonates with me in his words, his searching, his questions and his pondering.

I have a million things processing through my head and heart right now, but the lingering feeling from the weekend is pensive, grateful, refreshed and broken. It's beautiful, but hard to express this time. Perhaps I will be able to write more on it later.

//

Shut[ter]

2008-10-15T14:35:00.000-05:00

[Flickr]

//

Lately I find myself on a creative streak. I told a friend that I seem to hit a stride, and then it all comes pouring out of me. Music. Photography. Writing. Artwork. Even cooking and decorating. The changing of seasons and the cooler weather inspires me. Either that, or Starbucks is putting something in their pumpkin spice lattes...

This creativity has its pros and cons. Part of me wants to skip town and do life over the pond somewhere for a while. To expand and grow in an area that is entirely new and challenging to me. Then there is the part of me that loves where I am. I am content, but not comfortable.

I was out for a walk the other night and the moon was full. I was taken aback at how brightly it lit the place where I usually sit for a while to think and pray. There were a few enormous, low hanging clouds moving quickly across the otherwise clear sky. I laid back on the ground and watched as they raced north. I was fascinated. Overwhelmed. Humbled.

I...have nothing to do...with that.

As I stared at the sky, something suddenly became very clear to me.

I am small. And that is good.

It is good to be reminded just how small I am, and how much I rely on God to keep the universe spinning and my world in order. I try too hard to do that myself most days. I am learning that His grace and discipline go hand in hand.

//

+

2008-10-10T10:22:00.000-05:00

[...Flickr...]

//

I've been rather daydreamy this week. I took this photo of my best friend circa 12,000 feet in the Rocky Mountain tundra (mind you, we drove most of that via Trail Ridge Road. I'm definitely not that awesome...)

It sums up the feeling of my week well.

+

2008-10-09T09:34:00.000-05:00

[From a friend I haven't seen in a long time]

Justin: i heard you became a professional surfer
Rachel: cowabunga
Justin: is that french?
Rachel: si
Justin: i forgot you lived in germany
Rachel: ha ha...i'm out of languages...

//

[And it's not even 10 a.m.]

To be held...

2008-10-07T11:31:00.000-05:00

“You are loved,” he said as he embraced me. The night around us was quiet.

“I don’t know what to say,” I said, fighting tears once again.

I was so very weary from the fight.

“And that’s okay. You can just rest in that love…until you have something to say.”

The night weighed heavily in my heart. We were in the midst of a long drive away from people and places that hurt to leave, and I was in a very vulnerable place. It scared me more than anything. I was a very tightly contained mess, fighting hard to keep the tears from escaping. We found ourselves at an exit that resembled the middle-of-nowhere places I have grown so accustomed to in my many long drives and late nights. We had pulled over to switch places as we drew closer to home.

And in that moment, I realized His love was all around me. Even if the words that rocked my little world came from a friend that was just as human as me…I came to know another part of God's character and love. In the midst of my raw emotion and messy state of being, I felt Him move. He stretched out His arms and drew me closer. The timing of it all was inescapably perfect.

//

“We have been brought near by the blood of Christ,” he said, as his little girl crawled into his arms.

I was taken aback at the moment. We had gathered to study the book of Ephesians, and I found myself watching his daughter as she quietly played on the floor. Every now and then she would pipe up and tell us that she had read that same story in her Bible. She had read her entire children’s Bible from cover to cover.

Oh, to have the faith of a child…

What is it about a child crawling into your arms and nestling into you that can make the most calloused of hearts melt? I’m yet to experience this with my own children, but the glimpses I have gotten with the children of my brothers and my friends is enough to show me more of the depth of my own Father’s love for me.

But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ…

Once and for all, His death and resurrection broke apart a deeply settled hatred and division between Jew and Gentile. He brought together all humanity. He eliminated our excuses to be divided.

“I feel like I need to find a Jew or something and let him know!” he said. We all had a good laugh.

What happy news!

Nothing can separate us from Him, and in essence, nothing could separate us from one another, regardless of race, creed, background, story, mistakes, circumstances or culture. Like a daughter in her daddy’s arms, we are tucked safely into the place where we belong. We are made whole. We are made clean. We are made His.

We are held.

So swiftly arriving...

2008-09-30T15:23:00.000-05:00

I saw leaves falling for the first time other day, caught up in the breeze and illuminated by brilliant rays of the rising sun as I drove to work. It took me aback, considering the weather has been a little warm for my taste lately. When I walked outside today, I felt a familiar chill in the air and wiped the dew off my car. I breathed in the air deeply, searching for the scent of the oncoming fall. It was there, somewhere.

This is the time of year that I put on moody/folksy autumnal music like Death Cab for Cutie, Nickel Creek, Jon Foreman and the like. I grab a pumpkin spice latte and go for evening walks in jeans, flip flops and a hoodie (my favorite clothing to wear). I find myself remembering more readily how big the universe is and how very small I am when I look up at the clear sky and breathe in the crisp air. I have come to enjoy fall more than I used to, not just for the brilliant colors of the leaves and the cooler weather, but for the rhythm in nature that reminds me of our Creator.

Creativity is central to my life, especially lately. As the season changes, I find that I am changing too. Putting down roots and drawing from the soil in which I have been planted. Learning how to rest, even if I have a lot going on. Planning for the future with open hands and a willing heart. And most of all, enjoying the community and life I find myself in the midst of here.

[And with that, here is a short poem...from me to you]

The season is upon us
Fall, so swiftly arriving

We kindle fires and hearts
We gather wood and memories
We set aside our summer fancies
And stretch our legs before we rest

We breathe the air and feel it
Fall, so swiftly arriving

//

What does Fall mean to you?

On Songwriting

2008-09-28T22:39:00.000-05:00

[Thoughts by the oh-so-clever David Crowder]

"Songwriting is like trying to/listening to a conversation through the wall. It's like you're trying to make out one word and then you make out another word and you have to make sense of the sentence out of those couple of words. So you've surely got to be quite perceptive/quiet. Usually the melody comes a split second before the vowels and the sibilance. You kind of see them. Or feel them rather, like climbing down a ladder at night. You put your foot down and there's another rung. Well you put your mind down and there's another meaning and a sense of what it is. Then you put them all together.

There's a trick to it like focusing your eyes. Like talking to someone, only you can't quite hear them, and you feel kind of stupid because they're so much more clever than you. Sometimes the ideas just hover and shimmer in the air so delicately, like a soap bubble and you dare not even look at it directly in case it burst. But you're familiar with the way of ideas and you let it shimmer looking away, thinking about something else. And on the slightest of breezes/breaths it floats down glistening all the way into the palm/most tender part of your outstretched hand/heart."

//

I apologize for the silence as of late. I haven't much excuse but for the fact that it is a busy season of life, and I'm loving every bit of it. More on that soon.

A Little Afternoon Banter...

2008-09-17T15:09:00.000-05:00

I got inspired today and thought to pose a quite, um, hard-hitting question to a random selection of my friends. Here is the question, in all its splendor:

How much wood would a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could Chuck Norris?

And the replies:

John
About 3 bushels an hour.

Kitt
Chuck Norris would roundhouse kick the woodchuck. It would never chuck again.

Kevin
More than some but less than others.

Matt
None. No one could chuck Norris.

Simon
Oh my, that's deep. I can't just give you an answer just like that. I'll have to ponder it for a while. Perhaps pray about it.

Amber
Endless amounts.

Megan
Absolutely none. Chuck Norris would more than likely chuck the woodchuck.

Rhema
The whole Red Wood forest!

//

[Update]

Here are a few more to add the mix, as seen via my Facebook note of a similar nature.

Larry
?norris chuck could chuck wood a if chuck chuck wood a would wood much How

Ben
No wood chuck could Chuck Norris, it would break its teeth on his sinewy goodness.

Jessica
I don't know, but I did eat squirrel meat once.

Rhema (again)
And I ate quail eggs once.

James (currently living it up in France)
You can eat kangaroo in France...

Matt S (favorite!)
It depends. If the woodchuck got on a train heading west from New York at 9:52am, and Chuck Norris got on a train heading east from Chicago at 12:42pm, and both trains were traveling at 52 mph (average), then if the size of the woodchuck's train (the cargo amount of wood to chuck) is inversely proportional to the velocity of Chuck Norris' fist upon arrival, and...and...ohh...

[I have the best friends! ha ha]

//

So tell me...what would your answer be?

Positive Post Tuesday [the triumphant return]

2008-09-16T09:53:00.000-05:00

The cool kids over at ...in case you were wondering are at it again, and today, I decided to rejoin the bandwagon and pen a positive post. This Positive Post Tuesday is dedicated to none other than my mom and dad.

I could write a million words and still not have enough to say what these two mean to me. To me, they represent constancy, fidelity, strength, beauty, perseverance, legacy, love, wisdom and soundness (to name a few). And although I know they are mere humans and that we all have our flaws, God has used them so mightily in my life, my brothers' lives, the lives of our family members and in so many other peoples' lives. It never ceases to amaze me at how active they stay in the church and in the community. They are always reaching out to someone, be it as simple as having lunch and praying with a friend, or giving away things like cars and computers. They aren't extravagantly rich (by the standards of this world). They just have willing hearts, and they pay attention to where God tells them to give.

I love how my dad sends me pix and text messages every week and his silly jokes that he makes in the process. I cherish the time my mom and I spend on the phone every Tuesday talking about a book in the Bible we're reading together and catching up on life. I love the way my dad throws his head back, squints his eyes and squeaks a little bit when he laughs really hard. I love the way my mom tears up at the happy endings of a movie and the way I realize how alike we are, more and more every day. In other words, I am grateful for the healthy, life-giving relationship I have with my parents, and I realize how rare it is this day and age.

I cannot even count how many times and ways they have been there for me, and I hope to be even half as good a parent as they have been to me and my brothers. I miss them and wish they weren't 850 miles away from me sometimes...but, in the words of my dad, "There's no distance in prayer." And top it off, my dad even reads my blog from time to time. He's pretty Google-savvy and managed to find me without my knowing! All that from the guy who sometimes refers to the computer as "the confuser." Whatta fella. So Dad, if you're reading this...I love you! Show this to Mom!

Happy Positive Post Tuesday, folks!

[Want to see more Positive Posts or even do your own? Pass it on and link to your post here!]

Abide.

2008-09-10T14:20:00.001-05:00

I stepped outside this morning to a gentle rain. I love this weather.

//

Recently, I launched a new photography site and also a new photoblog (for those of you who don't have Flickr accounts). Some of you may recall that I originally launched my photography under the name "Oklahoma Sky." Upon reconsideration, and after some thought, prayer and inspiration, I settled on the name Abide Photography. I plan to tell the story of that process in the near future.

All this is quite exciting for me, actually! There is still a lot of design and content in the works...but stay tuned and feel free to peruse what I have posted so far on both sites.

Cheers.

Breaking the Silence

2008-09-07T21:52:00.000-05:00

I find myself peering out the window, waiting for the relentless clouds to yield something more than shade. More than a drop in the temperature. More than a change of the day’s ambiance. I want so badly for it to come, because I know it marks the changing of a season. I feel it coming, moving around inside of me. And therein lay my daily frustration, wrapped up in the absence of something I know I need, but am unsure if I truly want.

Rain.

While I wait, I have recognized that I am caught up in a familiar game, oftentimes repeating things over again.

It is a game of give and take. Catch and release. Fight or flight. Stretched out behind me are endless lines I have drawn in the sand, then crossed, then drawn again. Something has to give. And I know, without doubt, that what must give is me.

Give. Take.

I caught a glimpse of what it could be. There was something in his eyes. In the composition of a photograph. In the sound of a friend’s new song. It was more than just his song. It was a song for all of us, because we are as family. But if I am to truly thrive and learn to abide with the community around me, I must be willing to let it go. In truth, it is obedience that brings the release.

Catch. Release.

Some days I fight. I approach boldly the issues I with which I wrestle. I set out with the best of intentions. But so often, I give into the very human reaction of flight. Full tilt in the opposite direction. Except I am hardly flying, because I feel my feet firmly bound to this earth. They drag against the momentum we worked so hard to gain. And although progress is not entirely lost, it is slowed. Sometimes I fall forward. Sometimes I fall backward. Sometimes He just holds me in place. And every time…there is grace.

Fight. Flight.

I intently watch the horizon, waiting for that ominous cloud to make an appearance. I am out of words. Out of excuses. Tired of the sound of my own voice asking questions and the finite sayings inside my head. In my restlessness, I hear You speak.

You’re waiting, but are you really thirsty?

I need salt on my tongue. Something to jar loose the block between Him and I. But it comes back around to the place where He leads and I obey. He moves and I respond. I try so hard to make myself change that I forget that He is the Creator. The unmoved mover. The maker of my dreams. The mender of my heart. The lifter of my head.

And so I wait. Patiently. Impatiently. Quietly. Imperfectly. All the while, growing closer to His heart. With every passing hour, I feel Him drawing closer. I sense deeply the change that is afoot. I feel it coming, and obediently stay where I am.

I am waiting for the rain.

Sabbath

2008-08-04T08:27:00.000-05:00

Those of you that often visit my little corner of the web may have noticed a few changes (missing posts and such). I am taking some time to re-evaluate a few things in my life, and consequently taking a full step back from things like blogging and other social networking sites. I will still be around, reading and commenting here and there, but I am taking a break from publishing my writing and photography for a bit.

So for now, lovely readers of my blog, I must bid you adieu.

-R

[You could always check out some of the cool kids on my blogroll, ya know...]

Rocky Mountain High

2008-07-21T01:03:00.000-05:00

The silence of the mountains drew me in and took my breath away. The thin air filled my lungs with a vengeance and I could feel every heart beat. The higher we climbed, the freer I felt. In many ways, I was at home there.

12,000 feet. You met me there.

The blood in my veins was pounding fiercely against the camera strap around my neck. We reached the top of the trail and I watched as a handful of my friends cautiously traipsed around the tundra, taking care not to step on the lichens. I hung back for a while, hesitant to scale the set of boulders they had set their sights on. I hid behind my camera (my new addiction) and tried my best to capture the incredible scene around me. The unharnessed beauty of the mountains. The clouds that enveloped us. The chill of the tundra and the raw of the wild. My camera was useful, but it wasn’t the same as actually being up there.

Well, there’s no time like the present, my new friend Matt said, looking toward the thing that scared me most. It pushed me over the edge.

It’s just a rock, anyhow…

Somehow, I ended up there with them, after some prodding and a helping hand or two. Once I stopped clinging to the jagged rock beneath me and got up off my hands and knees, I took a deep breath and realized we were in the clouds. The wind picked up and pushed one toward us. We were taken aback as the misty cool touched our faces and slipped through our fingertips.

I came alive again.

It was in my lungs. My heart. My being. God met me there, in my breathless panic brought on by the insecurity of a high, unfamiliar place. I am terrified of heights, but yet I do things like ride the biggest rollercoaster at the amusement park, jump out of an airplane at 10,000 feet or climb up a boulder on the Rocky Mountain tundra. Even if it didn’t seem so daunting to my faithful companions, it was a significant moment for me.

I discovered my heart at 12,000 feet. Part of it is still there, tucked away next to a lake in the mountains that you can only see if you look closely enough. And even though coming alive exposed some deeply buried hurt in my heart, it also brought out a side of me that had long been dormant. It was a beautiful thing. I knew I would never be the same.

I held my hand against the momentum of the wind rushing around the car. I let the mountain air envelope me one last time and craned my neck to the west to look at those majestic peaks before they were swallowed up by the concrete of the city around us, and then by the expanse of the plains. It felt so wrong and so right at the same time, driving away from that place.

We had chased the sun to Colorado, and now we followed it home.

I feel alive, and it hurts for a change…I’m never going back to okay. I’m never going back to the way it was, the voice on the radio sang.

God has a way of speaking to me like that. Many times on the long drive home, I would be talking with my faithful friend/traveling companion or thinking about something, and a song would come on that would complement the moment perfectly. It usually left me speechless.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the mountains. The moments I knew God was there with me. The fond memories I created with some of my dearest friends. The uncontrollable laughter we shared and the adventures we conquered. These are times I know I will look back on for the rest of my life. This trip was both a beginning and an end…and I came out of it deeply changed.

Two full weeks later, I finally feel like I’m all here again. Sitting on my bed in the unassuming lands of Oklahoma, trying unsuccessfully to get to sleep. It took a weekend of worshipping Jesus to bring me back around. Singing and playing in a room at a church at 3 a.m. with my friends asleep on couches. We dedicated 24 hours to simply seeking and worshipping God. People came and went. Some paced, some sprawled out on the floor, some sat and prayed, some journaled and sang along, some slept. At times there was a full band, and other times the 2-hour sets were led humbly by a guy with dreadlocks and a guitar. In the end, it made me realize that I am right where I belong.

For as long as it took me to unwind from my trip, to pace (read: struggle) through a hectic couple of weeks and finally have some time to breathe and rest, I am so grateful for the faithfulness of my Father. As long as there is breath in my lungs and a heart inside me that beats, I will sing His praise and live out my life for Him. I know that My heart is in His hands.

And so it begins...

I'm gazing.

2008-07-18T15:59:00.001-05:00

[A fervent prayer]

I don’t always want it to be this way. So many times my prayer is this:

Father, I fell short again...painfully. Fix me. Forgive me. Heal me. Change me.

I feel as though I am a broken record, repeating the same things over and over. I realize that I am only enough because You made me enough. What a beautiful thing this grace is. You are here and readily willing to do those things, yes…but You are also here to be with me. You have made Your dwelling place in me, and I in You. I am created to be with You. The very definition of eternity is to know who You are.

Dare I meet the gaze of those fiery eyes? Dare I break it? Dare I rest my head on Your chest and listen to a heart that beats for people? Dare I look into Your eyes, deeply enough to see who I am and to know Your dreams for me? Dare I listen closely enough to hear You say the names of the people in my life that You are asking me to reach and love?

When I finally let go and allow my heart to hurt at the thought of the Kingdom, the overwhelming cost that You paid for me, the changing of seasons, the things to which You have called me…I realize again that I have been both lost and found in You.

I must stop counting the costs of this abandon.

The time has come. I’m either all in, or all out. I must trust You wholeheartedly, or else it might as well be not at all. I cannot give my heart to another, because it is wrapped up in You. My heart is not mine to give to friend nor lover. I belong to You. Only with You at the center can we all be brought together in perfect unity.

Community. Relationship. Faith. Hope. Love. Growth. Life. It all begins and ends with You. Only then will our hearts truly beat as one, in time with the rhythm of Your own. The rhythm of Heaven. What would our lives look like if that were what truly drives us?

So here I am. You breathe out and I breathe in. You speak and I listen, for Your sheep know the voice of their Shepherd (John 10:3). I’m not going anywhere, Father. Not without You. I’m all here. I’m all in. Even with my blatant imperfection and shameful lack of effort for so long. Here I am and here I’ll stay.

I'm Yours...and I’m gazing.

//

[Colorado post coming soon. I promise. These things take time.]

Change[d]

2008-07-10T10:44:00.000-05:00

I came back from my trip to Colorado changed. Something about the thin air of the mountains has settled deeply inside me. I feel as though I met God all over again at 12,000 feet. I left my heart (and discovered it) on a boulder in the clouds at the top of Trail Ridge Road.

I hit the ground running once I got back, but I have quite the story to tell in words and photos. Soon enough, for all your 13 faithful readers waiting with bated breath, there will be a post of epic proportions.

And I mean epic.

The Vision

2008-06-25T20:26:00.000-05:00

...as cast by Pete Greig, of the 24-7 Prayer movement. This is a pretty intense read, but worthily so. We all need this kind of passion. And what he says, I cannot deny to be truth. It's the most legit thing I've read in a long time. It sets my heart ablaze at the thought of it.

///

So this guy comes up to me and says "What's the vision? What's the big idea?" I open my mouth and words come out like this…

The vision?

The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.

The vision is an army of young people.

You see bones? I see an army. And they are FREE from materialism.

They laugh at 9-5 little prisons.

They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday.

They wouldn't even notice.

They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the west was won.

They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations. They need no passport.

People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence.

They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying.

What is the vision ?

The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes. It makes children laugh and adults angry.

It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars.

It scorns the good and strains for the best. It is dangerously pure.

Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation.

It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games.

This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause.

A million times a day its soldiers

choose to loose

that they might one day win

the great 'Well done' of faithful sons and daughters.

Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don't need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again: "COME ON!"

And this is the sound of the underground

The whisper of history in the making

Foundations shaking

Revolutionaries dreaming once again

Mystery is scheming in whispers

Conspiracy is breathing…

This is the sound of the underground

And the army is discipl(in)ed.

Young people who beat their bodies into submission.

Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms. The tattoo on their back boasts "for me to live is Christ and to die is gain."

Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes. Winners. Martyrs. Who can stop them ?

Can hormones hold them back?

Can failure succeed? Can fear scare them or death kill them ?

And the generation prays

like a dying man

with groans beyond talking,

with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and

with great barrow loads of laughter!

Waiting. Watching: 24 – 7 – 365.

Whatever it takes they will give: Breaking the rules. Shaking mediocrity from its cosy little hide. Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs, laughing at labels, fasting essentials. The advertisers cannot mould them. Hollywood cannot hold them. Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the cockerel cries.

They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive inside.

On the outside? They hardly care. They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide.

Would they surrender their image or their popularity?

They would lay down their very lives - swap seats with the man on death row - guilty as hell. A throne for an electric chair.

With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days,

they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.

Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.)

Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus.

Their words make demons scream in shopping centres.

Don't you hear them coming?

Herald the weirdo's! Summon the losers and the freaks. Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes. They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension. Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.

And this vision will be. It will come to pass; it will come easily; it will come soon.

How do I know? Because this is the longing of creation itself, the groaning of the Spirit, the very dream of God. My tomorrow is his today. My distant hope is his 3D. And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking great 'Amen!' from countless angels, from hero's of the faith, from Christ himself. And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.

Guaranteed.

Let them dance.

2008-06-23T14:41:00.000-05:00

Just in case you need something (and hundreds of someones, for that matter) to make your day, I strongly encourage you to watch this:

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

[HT: Josh]

It's not about me.

2008-06-18T10:40:00.000-05:00

I keep up regularly with my "blogroll folks" and today Los wrote about something today that struck a chord with me. He talked about how sometimes, even if it's rare, we use others to yield a desirable feeling in ourselves. Gratification. Validation. Fulfillment. Even encouragement. He put it in context of being a worship leader, and I found it refreshingly honest coming from a guy who leads a lot of folks in worship at his church in Atlanta.

Most people don't realize just how much time I have spent on stage in my life. This (somewhat) quiet writer/photographer/journalist/shy musician has been on stage more times than she can count. It seems ironic, since I hate being in the spotlight. But at the same time, I'm pretty content to hide behind a keyboard, blend in with the band, add to the sound and support the worship leader. Either that or I'm playing and singing for Jesus in a room with one or two friends/perfect strangers in it during the wee hours of the morning. I have played on worship teams since I was 13, with only a few short seasons where I was not involved at (just attending) a local gathering because of work or school or both.

In light of all that, here is what I wrote in response to his post:

Thank you for this, Los. Lately, I have been playing a lot with our worship team (I play keys/synth) and a lot of times I hear our worship leader, other band members, people from the congregation say things like, “Wow. You did so well!” or “That was beautiful.” For a little bit this past Sunday, I had to stand up there and work it out (internally) that it’s NOT about me. My tight-knit group of friends here has a saying…a mantra, if you will: “Just Jesus. Nothing else.”

I need to remind myself that I’m not trying to be something to them. I’m not trying to be anything, actually. Just an instrument and a willing heart to help others get to the place where they meet with God. And whether or not they connect, it’s between them and God. Not me and them. Ever.

How often we lose sight of this very thing. Not just in church or worship bands, but in our daily lives and interactions with strangers, coworkers, acquaintances and loved ones alike. The solution to all this?

He must increase. We must decrease.

20 Days...

2008-06-13T14:27:00.000-05:00

And counting.

Verge

2008-06-05T11:42:00.000-05:00

It seems as though I am on the verge of something.

For a season, I was perplexed by the circumstances surrounding me. Compassion turned into a battle with bitterness and questions with no clear answers. A job I love slowly became a position where I struggled to keep a steady pace and feel as though I were challenging myself to grow. The joy of family surrounding me in a colorful variety of names, faces, personalities and walks of life was somehow replaced with a fear that I would, eventually, be let down once again. People come. People go. And I end up being the last one trying to keep the bond alive.

Brick by brick, the wall started to rise. It blocked out even the light of the One whose love is as close to me as breath is to life. I got restless. Discontent. I felt like there was something more I should be doing. Somewhere else I should be going. Someone else I should be getting to know. Something else. Anything else. It was as if everything on my inside, both good and bad, wanted out. Badly.

I kept in the back of my mind the realization that such struggles plague people my age. We are an often wandering and wonderfully diverse generation of twentysomethings. I hated the fact that disillusionment often comes hand in hand with risk, challenge, adventure and new seasons. I felt like there had to be a balance in the whole thing.

Something—or more so, someone—to hold me in place, even if I was physically drifting around the country and struggling to feel at home in the place where I paid rent. Amidst the walls where I hung my own artwork. Sitting on the futon that had been host to many sessions of writing, deep conversations, cups of tea, tears shed and laughter released. Running my fingers along my trusty Kurzweil that had helped translate my deepest emotions into notes, melodies and lyrics.

My heart hurts often. That, I have come to realize, is not an entirely bad thing. And as I write this, I must confess that the season I speak of is not entirely passed. So much of it remains in me, but piece by piece, God has pulled it out of me and set it on the table. He stands next to me, His arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders. I can almost see His eyes—full of wisdom, compassion, kindness, correction, guidance. In this moment, He is my Father. My defender. My constant. That will never change, of course. But I will, inevitably.

Isn’t that the beauty of grace? Its foundation is in a God who has always been and always will be.

I AM WHO I AM, He thundered to Moses through the burning bush.

He remains. He abides. He lives. He dwells. Not off in some unreachable universe, but with us. It seems like such a simple statement: Emmanuel, God with us. But the significance is earth shattering. Heart wrenching. Mind blowing. Insurmountable by our limited human intellect. But nonetheless, it brings us to life—body, mind and spirit. And in the midst of my restlessness and distraction, He keeps reminding me that He is right here.

Watching. Dwelling. Breathing. Inspiring. Creating. Moving. He is changing me. Changing him. Changing her. Changing us. Until we finally realize that community, in its truest form, is when we are unified with Christ. Only then can we be truly unified with one another. This Kingdom, this life that pursues His calling, cannot be quenched by a mere season of disillusionment. It keeps going on regardless of my painful, shameful failures. Because He is perfect. He is good. He is loving. He is God.

He is here.

Fight [or From the Storm, part 3]

2008-06-01T22:40:00.000-05:00

The night was still, but I was not. My heart was anything but quiet. Emotions ebbed and flowed inside me. I was having quite the conversation with God as I drove home.

You see, there is something about driving that brings out the deepest parts of me. No music. No distractions. Just the road. It was somewhere around 81st and Sheridan that I pulled up to a stoplight. An SUV was in the lane to my left, and a man’s voice pierced through the darkness.

“Hey baby,” he said.

I shuddered and stared straight ahead. If looks could kill, and I had chosen to look at him, he’d be a goner. I silently willed the light to turn green. As I pulled away, the emotions finally overwhelmed me. Being catcalled was the last straw in a battle I had been fighting inside myself, perhaps for longer than I wanted to admit. I wouldn't have appreciated it in any circumstance, but it pushed me over the edge.

I hit my fist against the steering wheel hard, the horn honking ever so slightly in protest. It all just seemed so wrong. Tears were streaming down my face.

And then, gently and firmly, He spoke to me.

What are you going to fight for, Rachel?

I paused only for a moment.

You and me, God! I'll fight for the right things. Purity, diligence, consistency, holiness. Our relationship. You and me.

And I realized, in that moment, that I had lost my fight somewhere along the road behind me. Or maybe I just lost my will to fight. But it came back, as overwhelmingly as the emotions that swelled inside my chest and the back of my throat. What an epic combination it was…

A few days later, I found myself standing on stage, playing keyboard with the worship band at my church. I was singing along, caught up in the presence of God that invaded into our midst. It was a holy moment.

You are my defender.

We sang it over and over again.

He is a God that will be heard. A God that not only hears us, but knows us. He is a mighty warrior. A God that not only defends us, but teaches us to fight as well. Yet again, the moment was marked with rolling thunder and rain pounding on the sheet metal roof of the church. The storm yielded the kind of wind that snapped trees at the trunk and scattered branches across the streets. But we were kept safe, in God's house...even in the midst of the storm and the flickering lights. If you ask me, I am deeply grateful to be on the winning side of the war.

So tell me…what will you fight for?

Summer and Starlight [part 2]

2008-05-28T08:53:00.001-05:00

Warning: shameless plug (on behalf of a dear friend) to follow. Trust me on this one.

He just put his EP out via iTunes. Support the indie dream. Check him out.

From the Storm [part 2]

2008-05-27T00:11:00.001-05:00

Lightning.

It danced high above the wide open country side, performing a silent symphony of light and movement. All I could hear was the wind rushing through my window and the thoughts inside my head as I drove.

It spread out from cloud to cloud, stretching its arms and reaching its long fingertips for miles at a time. The eerie absence of thunder intrigued me all the more.

How is that Your creation continually astounds me?

My eyes were tired and my stomach was mostly empty. But my heart...and something even more deeply inside me...was keenly aware. Something was changing. Shifting. Learning. Growing. All at once, I came to the terrifying realization that I really do not know what lay ahead.

And I found myself overtaken by peace that only my Father can bring. He eased my heart that aches for home and family. He quieted the questions I had for Him. He wrapped His fingers even more tightly...gently...around my heart. He let me know that He is here, and that He not only will be heard, but hears me as well.

I don't know where it is that You begin and I end. All I know is that You're here and that You're near. You're so near to me.

From the Storm...

2008-05-26T06:31:00.000-05:00

6:30 a.m.

It is storming. Lightning flickers in the sky. Rain pounds the thirsty lands. Stray hail pelts the window.

And I can hear Him in the rolling thunder, once again.

I am here. I will be heard.

(Whoa. Just as I wrote that, the loudest crash of thunder I have heard in a long while rocked my world. My roommate was up with a start. We laughed and she looked outside to see how our garden was faring. But love can endure the weather.)

I hear You.

Music and Lyrics

2008-05-25T15:07:00.000-05:00

///

So I'll raise my glass
Propose a toast
Hold on to the ones you love the most

I'll raise my glass
My heart now is burning
Here's to the mystery
Here's to the journey

And this one's for the winding road
This one's for the highs and lows
This one's for the answers we don't know
We just let go (and trust)

This one's for the straight and narrow
Separating bone from marrow
This one's for the miles
We will walk and run
And when we come undone

Here's to the mystery
And here's to the journey

///

(c) RW 2008

Pray for the Chapman Family

2008-05-22T08:25:00.000-05:00

I heard last night of the tragedy that has struck recording artist Steven Curtis Chapman and his family. Their youngest daughter, Maria, was killed yesterday in a terrible accident. She was only 5 years old, and the youngest of the 3 girls they adopted from China.

[Maria is the one in Steven's arms...]

This is a call to pray, if you will. I can not imagine the heaviness and pain they must be experiencing right now. As I woke up this morning, they were on my mind, and one of Steven's songs was in my head. It's called "With Hope ."

We can cry with hope
We can say goodbye with hope
'Cause we know our goodbye is not the end
And we can grieve with hope
Because we believe with hope
(There's a place by God's grace)
There's a place where we'll see your face again

You can read more of the story here.

Will you join us in prayer? Thank you.

Coffee

2008-05-21T11:20:00.001-05:00

There is something about wrapping my fingers around a warm cup of coffee that inspires a fond sentiment in me. It reminds me of talking with family and friends at a cozy coffee shop, playing cards, enjoying the company of one another. It takes me to the living room where we gather and share life together. The smell alone can take me back to mornings where I would crawl between my dad and his newspaper and nestle into his chest. I remember that he often smelled like coffee. I remember the way I would make a face when I took a sip from his half-empty cup on the window sill.

You see, up until recently, I was not much of a fan of coffee without a lot of frou-frou additions. Now my fondness of it is growing, with or without cream and sugar. It just took the experience of tasting a decent brew to sway my preference. I still favor tea, naturally, but coffee is a lovely option as well. I find that I am pretty entertaining when I have something highly caffeinated, so maybe I will stick to the decaf most of the time.

But I digress...

What is about simple things like a cup of coffee that can send us traipsing down memory lane or inspire a daydream? Sometimes all it takes is a breath of the summer air or a roll of thunder to steal me away from my present reality. Not that there is anything wrong with my present reality, because it is full of life and loved ones and challenge and growth, but I enjoy the opportunity to reminisce or to dream.

In my dreams I see visions of the future
But today we have today
And where will I find You?

I think that God knew how these things would move me. He created me to be moved by a beautiful sunset or sunrise, the smell of the seasons, the beautiful perspective and expression captured by the art of others. He designed me to embrace the way words can come alive on a page, the simple pleasure of a well-written song, the joy of rolling down the windows and turning up the music on a sunny day. He knew I would be ablaze with the experience of sitting around with guitars and friends and singing and talking about His faithfulness until we cannot keep our eyes open any longer. He knew the concept of His grace and mercy would overwhelm me and change me deeply, and that it would come in the most unexpected ways.

In the economy of mercy
I am a poor and begging man
In the currency of Grace
Is where my song begins
In the colors of Your goodness
In the scars that mark your skin
In the currency of Grace
Is where my song begins

He knew me long before I even existed. That very fact will never cease to amaze me. The Creator of the universe holds me closely to His heart. He is so far beyond me, yet so impossibly close to me. To you. To all of us. I am learning to let go more each day.

Where was I when the world was made?
I'm lost without You here
You knew my name when the world was made

///

[Lyrics: The Economy of Mercy by Jon Foreman + Switchfoot]

Positive Post Tuesday [round 3]

2008-05-20T13:48:00.000-05:00

It's that time again. Positive Post Tuesday!

This is Lindsay. She's got moxy.

She also happens to be completely obsessed with Hello Kitty paraphernalia (and I did not realize that paraphernalia had an "r" in it until just now. Wow!)

I first met Lindsay in college when she was the editor of the student newspaper and I was a wee-little contributing writer. Eventually I moved up in a rank and found myself following in her footsteps by my senior year. She graduated a few years before me, but I remember seeing her lead our little band of journalists with determination and class. I also went regularly on a community outreach she led to a children's hospital, where we played with kids that were traumatized physically, emotionally and/or psychologically. We would debrief some nights and really have no words for some of things we saw. Lins was an amazing team leader, to say the least.

I made a lot of trips to see Lindsay when she lived in Oklahoma City. My little weekend trips with her consisted of wandering around Brick Town, making funny videos and taking photos with the infamous OKC buffalo, eating Thai food and visiting with Crazy Nick, helping out with the kids program at her church and just enjoying catching up with one another. She even brought me along to a wedding where I knew neither the bride nor the groom (scandalous, I know)...I cherish those times, most definitely.

Lindsay is a go-getter in every sense of the word. Right after graduating, she spent several months in the Philippines on her own accord and ministered to people, and especially kids, there. She came back with beautiful photos and stories to tell. She recently moved to Houston and has been moving right along with her new job as an online editor for an oil and gas company. She travels frequently (I'm jealous, really) and is continually learning and growing in her field. She inspires me and makes me laugh with her bouncy personality and her view of the world. I love how she embraces life with such fervor, despite some bumps in the road. She is an ardent pursuer of God, and I greatly admire that.

In other words, Lindsay pretty much kicks butt 24-7. I miss her a lot. Here's to you, Lins! You're one moxacious gal.

[Want to see more Positive Posts or even do your own? Pass it on and link to your post here!]

Cali

2008-05-19T00:23:00.000-05:00

This little tike belongs to one of my best friends. Could she possibly be any cuter?

Five months old and already loving the camera with her eyes.

[This is one of many photos I took of them last month. View more via my Flickr.]

Myanmar Relief Trip

2008-05-14T10:26:00.000-05:00

A team of Christian doctors/medical professionals are heading to Myanmar this Friday. They are being led by Dr. Mitch Duininck, who I interviewed for a story a while back. He is an amazing man of God and has gone on and led disaster relief trips before.

I know that many of you must be wondering how best to help with the horrendous situation in Myanmar (it's getting worse by the day and aid is desperately needed), and it's clear that the militant government of Myanmar is not cooperating with aid agencies very well at this point. Dr. Duininck and his team of 14 will be bringing medical help, portable water purifiers that they will leave behind for refugees to use and the Gospel of Christ to these people.

If you're looking for a way to give, where the money will go into good hands and be put to the best possible use, then I am urging you to get involved with this team. Their visas should be approved today (Wednesday). You can read more about their trip here (it has directions on how to give at the bottom):

http://www.ihi-projects.com

If anything, I'm asking you all to pray. Pray that they have favor getting into the country, ministering to people, and also that they will be kept safe in very risky and uncontrolled circumstances and a hostile nation. I personally find it a struggle to know where to begin when praying for disasters as widespread as ones in Myanmar and also in China...but I truly believe this is one of the many opportunities that will arise to help. God is faithful.

Thanks for reading, guys.

Grace and peace.

Lovely

2008-05-09T23:03:00.000-05:00

I am surrounded by absolutely beautiful people. Here is one of the shots I captured of my friend Erin during an evening at the park.

Taking Root

2008-05-08T11:22:00.000-05:00

Stay.

That is one of the hardest words for me to swallow right now. I get pretty restless sometimes. My first year out of school has had some rather spectacular ups and downs (according to some) and now I find myself in a time of the year where I would usually be on my way to work at the camp for the summer, off doing some internship or taking a road trip. But as I stared at my feet this Sunday and heard Kelly talking about being willing to drop everything and go where God sends us, I heard Him tell me to stay. He knows I'd go. In a heartbeat, given the opportunity and the timing. But He is asking me to stay.

Stay.

Cultivate friendships. Build my network. Hone my skills. Adopt new ones. Gain more experience in my job field. Pay my bills. Share a room and a house and an office and my songs and my art and my life with others. And in the end, allow myself to take root here in the land of Oklahoma. Even if it means I have to face the pain of pulling up out of the ground and moving elsewhere in a year, two years or somewhere else down the road. If I had it my way right now, I would be traveling, writing, taking pictures and throwing things to the wind for a while. Isn't that what all twentysomethings want at some point? Maybe that never changes, regardless of age, but just tempers down into something we keep inside and hope someday we will realize. It almost seems tragic, but I know there is more to life than this restlessness and more to fulfillment than living a dream.

Stay.

I had a conversation with my mom the other night about realizing our dreams. She can look back at her life, as mother of three and now a grandma to three as well, and see that laying down some of her dreams has been well worth it in the long run. She and my dad have invested into a family that is strong, beautiful, growing, thriving. Now that all three of us are living away from home (with me being the furthest away), I wonder if things will come full circle for them. I have this idea in my head that all the things she and my dad laid down on our behalf could come back around and happen for them now. But life doesn't always work like this, does it?

Stay.

I am not sure of the "Why here?" or "Why now?" aspects of my life, but I do know that He is good and He is trustworthy. As puzzled as some people may be at my current location or even my job position, I like to think of it this way: I am not afraid to move somewhere new. It is in me, whether you believe it or not. But part of me needs to learn how to stay somewhere longer than a few months at a time. My whole existence the past few years has been centered around this constant changing and moving and transitioning from semester to semester, summer to summer. Something had to give.

I used to be so afraid of what life would be like an entire year from now. Nowadays, it doesn't seem as scary. Not because things are predictable, by any means, but because I know God better. I know His faithfulness, His stern discipline, His leading, His love and grace more than I did a year ago, a month ago, even a day ago. And I hear Him say it again...

Stay.

Here I am. Many of my friends are leaving or have already left this town. But then there are the ones that remain...we are caught up together in the mystery of why He has us here. And we will stay until He says to go.

Who knows what adventure will unfold.

Positive Post Tuesday [round 2]

2008-05-06T09:54:00.000-05:00

It has been a while since I jumped on the Positive Post Tuesday bandwagon. It's a rainy day and my to-do list is a little short, so I think I will give it a go.

This is Rhema (aka RhemaLove). It may seem like a cop out to dedicate this post to my best friend, but I believe she deserves it. She just graduated from college this weekend and is currently on a plane to Hawaii with her spit-fire of a grandma for the week. I remember the day I met her, a wide-eyed transfer sophomore that wound up as my next door neighbor in my dorm. She came in on one of the hardest seasons of my life and was incredibly supportive, especially for someone who had just met me. We were fast friends that have lasted the past three years (and still going strong.)

Perfect strangers and friends alike have asked us on numerous occasions if we are sisters or even twins. We do have a lot in common: we are both artistic, writers, musicians, singers, songwriters, lovers of Asian food, culture and coffee...the list could go on. And then there are the places where we diverge. Case in point: she loves Johnny Depp. I think he's a creep. She is also a bit more liberal than I am. It drives me crazy sometimes, and I love her all the more for it. Nonetheless, the glue that holds us together will not readily be dissolved.

I make fun of her for being a hippie and a nerd (she really is) because she grew up in Boulder, Colorado, is fond of calculus and the way the universe works, kept a 4.0 all the way through high school and college and has recently begun sporting a "God is Green" t-shirt. She also loves all things organic. I realized her influence just this week as I unwittingly wound up with organic fruit strips and organic Tazo chai in my shopping cart.

Rhema has a way of bringing me out of even the most ridiculous of funks. She knows me way too well and has patiently endured many of my quirks. And she knows I will do the same for her in a heartbeat. She truly knows the best and worst of me and still welcomes me with open arms. Many times she has spoken powerful truth into my life and the lives of others. God is using her for His Kingdom in a powerful way.

She essentially put herself through school and has held her head high through a difficult senior year. She rose to the top in many student leadership positions and managed to pass all her classes with flying colors. She walked across that stage this past Saturday, was handed her "diploma" (the official one gets mailed in a few months), and had a smile on her face as she bid farewell to the friends that have become family to her these past few years. I am sad to see her go, but I get the feeling that she and I will end up in the same place again, God willing. For now, a few states stand between us.

So here's to Rhema, one of the most incredible people I know. You have been Positive Post Tuesday'd.

[Want to see more Positive Posts or even do your own? Pass it on and link to your post here!]

The [Simple] Life

2008-05-02T10:27:00.000-05:00

Every morning they are waiting, somewhat anxiously, at the gate. They try to find a way over it, around it, maybe even under it.

What if there's a secret tunnel? One of them might say. Maybe we could dig a hole so we don't have to wait anymore! The other may suggest.

And then, at last, a car pulls up and triggers the gate opener. They run carefree to their bus stop and are on their way to grade school in no time, with dreams of the impending summer dancing around inside their heads.

Oh, when life was simpler...

The past few mornings, I have seen this pair of little boys at the gate of my condominium complex. They seemed to come out of nowhere this morning, running around my car from the back. One of them waved and smiled at me as they scampered on by. I think it is safe to say it made my morning. I cannot help but wonder what mischief they'll stir up in their little boy states of being. For a moment, I was taken back to the many mornings I walked a few blocks to school and the light-hearted fun I had on the shores of Lake Michigan in the summer (and the winter, if we were hearty enough to brave the face-numbing wind and snow).

And I wonder if I have lost that child-like view of the world altogether...where the most pressing thing on my mind was getting my afternoon snack and going fishing with my cousin or swimming in the lake. Working 8-5 every day has been a very interesting experience for me these past several months. The only time I worked full time before was when I was a camp counselor. My office was the beach, the woods, the stage, the sweet shop, the teen room...it was glorious. After all my room and board were taken out, I probably made around $2/hour. But what it lacked in compensation, it made up for it in experience and some of the fondest memories I have yet to make.

This is the time of year that I would usually be packing up my dorm room and heading off for some summer adventure. But now, I find myself settled into a place with three (incredible) roommates and a network of friends that is getting closer to me all the while. I am bidding farewell to many of those who are graduating from school this year (I am living in the city where I attended school) and tearfully saying goodbye to one of the best friends I have ever known. She's going to Colorado. I'm in Oklahoma. What's wrong with this picture?

A thousand miles seems pretty far, but they've got planes and trains and cars. I'd walk to you if I had no other way.

I think my discontent is only temporary. Transition is something I have always hated vehemently. I realized the other day that I am used to it, but that still doesn't dismiss the fact that it hurts all the same. Our "twentysomething" years are marked by transitions like this, and uncertainty of if and when we'll all end up back together again. Right now, I am purposing to enjoy the next few days and embrace that child-like perspective again. I need to remember that it is alright to live in the moment, to throw our cares to the wind and enjoy the day...and to send these people off in style. It will be a whirlwind weekend, and next week, I will be here and they will be gone. God and I are working on making me okay with that fact.

In all this, I realize...

Life can be found in the seizing of the moment and the dismissal of tomorrow's worries.

Family

2008-04-26T22:09:00.000-05:00

At one of my favorite coffee shops. Listening to them dream. Seeing their faces as they realize the legacy that precedes those dreams. Feeling the same flame that burns within my heart. Hearing and knowing what God has already done, and is doing as we speak.

It brings a renewed meaning to the concept of coming full circle.

What a lovely, significant evening.

It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah...

2008-04-23T13:28:00.000-05:00

This is epic. I mean it.

This, along with David Cook singing "Music of the Night" on Idol last night, has pretty much wrecked me. I love it when fellow musicians dig deep and sing from the depths of their being. Seriously...I'm not sure I can take anymore. Wow.

[HT: Daley, then Phil]

The Spark of the Divine

2008-04-18T10:15:00.000-05:00

“In every man there is the spark of the divine. The spark may be allowed to almost flicker out, or it will burn brightly as our faith and understanding permit...Nothing can hold back an idea whose time has come."
-Lee Braxton

It seems as though, lately, I have been learning how to dream again. I find myself surrounded by a bunch of wide-eyed dreamers, passionate about their purposes and discovering the path that God has for them. Up until recently, I was afraid to let my dreams be too big. It seemed like they were limited to some self-imposed reality...a cautious approach, to say the least. Then a friend said something that changed the way I thought.

"Who is the Maker of our dreams, anyhow? Who put them inside us?"

God has woven these dreams into our DNA. They are buried deep in our hearts, but are revealed in due season. I have seen things come about that I would never have imagined in my own life and in the lives of people around me. Some may write it off as the enthusiasm that often marks our years as twentysomethings. I beg to differ. I know plenty of people that are just as passionate now as they were when they were my age. God never stops instilling His passion and love into us...so why should we stop responding? If anything, the "spark of the divine" should turn into a blaze, growing stronger with each passing year in our lives. There is no stopping the Kingdom if we all would realize this and begin truly living out our purposes and passions (which inevitably intertwine).

I would like to say I have arrived, but I really have not. I am learning. I am growing. I am stumbling through it. But somehow, in His infinite grace, He is teaching me how to walk. How to breathe. How to dwell.

How to dream.

An Aching Heart

2008-04-13T19:45:00.000-05:00

Today, my heart hurts.

I can scarcely find the words to capture it. It goes beyond an emotion. I cannot even find the music to match my mood (a rare occurrence). All this is the result of a dangerous prayer—Break my heart with what breaks Yours, Father. And He did. It seems as though it is more than I can take.

It hurts for the precious baby boy who died of SIDS in his crib a few weeks ago. He was adopted just a few months before that by a couple that is preparing to break ground for an orphanage in Belize. There is simply no way to make sense of a situation like this, but hope it seems hope is in their midst. A good friend of mine arrived on the scene the next day for a three-week visit he had been planning for months. The timing of his presence there is impeccable.

It hurts for the people of Haiti, who protest and riot in the streets, empty plates in hand, because rising food costs have forced them to go hungry. One protester said, “If the police and U.N. troops want to shoot at us, that’s OK, because in the end if we are not killed by bullets we’ll die of hunger.” Shaun's brief yet potent take on the situation stopped me in my tracks as I read his blog today. He has a way of doing that to me.

It hurts for the injustice of a mega-corporations making millions and even billions off products we can fully live without, and would more than likely be better off without. Our system is upside down, in a horrifying way. I picture a homeless man starving and feeling without hope in the streets while someone walks by him, engrossed in the bells and whistles of their new iPhone. The finger points squarely back at me—at each of us—although there are many things we can do (and many of us have done) to reach out to the less fortunate around us.

All this is perplexing, to say the least. So much in our world is out of order and does not make sense. I don’t consider myself as one who has a flagrant or excessive lifestyle, but I still sigh at the thought that there is so much more that could be done to make right the tragedies like the one in Haiti.

I sponsor one child in Uganda, but I wish I could sponsor all the kids in the world. Or maybe just build a massive house and feed and love and provide for all the hungry, hurting, homeless folks. That sounds a lot like Heaven, doesn’t it? I guess that’s evidence that eternity is in our hearts.

And even though my heart feels heavy inside me on days like this, I would not ask for anything different. There is so much more I would like to say, but I’m not quite sure how to do this justice. For once, this writer is at a loss for words.

"New" Journalism

2008-04-11T11:56:00.000-05:00

Disclaimer: I do not usually comment on my own industry (the media) or the trends therein, but this is something that has been on my mind lately. If you'd rather not hear me rant a little bit about the media and the trends of new journalism...feel free to stop reading here. Otherwise, welcome aboard.

Let me start out by giving you a little background.

Just last weekend I edited a friend's senior paper, which dealt with the relationship between the blogosphere and the news media. Oftentimes, bloggers act as whistleblowers when they see something that is not legitimate in a news story, or the act as "citizen journalists" that comment on the events they deem worthy to cover. I won't get into my views about bloggers acting as journalists (that could be lengthy and mostly unnecessary), but I will comment on something that I noticed just now in a headline news story.

Increasingly, I have noticed the voice and opinion of reporters in news stories. In essence, this trend of "new journalism" or "civic journalism" occurs when a reporter submits his or her opinion into a story or spins things in a way they see fit, but that may not be fair. Sure, it's been going on for years in the way media authorities have chosen to tell stories or what stories they have chosen to cover...but lately it has filtered down even into the newsroom, all the way down to the work of staff writers. In other words, the traditional journalistic value of objectivity is trumped by the view of the reporter.

At first I thought this trend was mostly constrained to local or smaller papers that are not as professional, but today I read something on CNN's site that made me raise an eyebrow. I noticed it in a story about a mother who learned that a few years ago that her son was planning a Columbine-style attack at his high school. She acted quickly and got him help, very possibly preventing another horrible school shooting. It is not the story itself that I take issue with, but the way the reporter sets it up.

In telling about how this young man wanted to kill his high school classmates, the reporter wrote: "It would be a fitting payback to his high school classmates who Richard says relentlessly bullied him."

Excuse me? First of all, that is opinion. And second of all, a fitting payback?

I don't really know what to do with this trend, since I must admit that I too have allowed my voice to work its way into a story. However, I make it a point to take my opinion out of my stories and to qualify other opinions in the stories with at least one or two sources. It is a very fine line to walk, and there are multiple issues I could delve into here...but I will refrain for the sake of keeping this to the point.

[addition]

Travis mentioned that this writer may just need an editor, which is very true...it may have been a simple mistake where the writer failed to attribute the idea to the source. Nonetheless, the issues of new journalism remain in the industry.

Any thoughts? Or did I just lose all 3 of my dedicated readers with my little disclaimer at the top?

Positive Post Tuesday [round 1]

2008-04-01T08:47:00.000-05:00

My "blogroll friend" Brody started this tradition, and I thought to follow suit. I cannot say I will manage to do this every Tuesday, but I would like to give it a try today. For those of you unfamiliar, Positive Post Tuesday is when some of us in the blogosphere dedicate a post to talking positively about someone we know. I think that today I will start with Shaun.

I met Shaun in the summer of 2006 when I did an internship out in Nashville. At the time, he and Brian led up Ikon, the college and career program at The People's Church. I attended all throughout that summer and really cherished my time with those folks. I hope to move back to Nashville...eventually. I remember leaving Ikon many nights and trying to wrap my mind and heart around some of the words Shaun said. He is truly one of the most remarkable teachers I have ever encountered, and he has never been afraid to provoke us to deal with the issues of today's society. He also happens to be a soft rock star, whose music I first encountered long before I met him. Need I say more?

During that summer, I was also researching my senior journalism project on Christians in the music industry. I interviewed Shaun and a few other dynamic folks in the process. He gave me very honest answers about his take on the church, the music industry and the trends and issues therein. The project turned out well, and I was glad to have Shaun as one of the voices in it.

Sadly enough, I haven't seen Shaun and most of the TPC/Ikon crowd since I left Nashville after that summer, but I've kept up with his blog fairly regularly and have enjoyed hearing what he has to say and seeing what he has been up to lately. In fact, when he and the Compassion Bloggers went to Uganda, I kept up with a few of their blogs and ultimately decided to sponsor a beautiful little girl named Christine. I am grateful for the inspiration, most certainly! Shaun is a passionate advocate for Compassion International and travels regularly to play shows, with the purpose of getting more kids sponsored. If you have not already, you should check out his blog and see what he has to say. He updates almost every day.

***

So there you have it. I am sure all 3 of my dedicated readers will appreciate the positive words. Thanks for reading along, guys!

Pass it on and link to your post here!

It's about that time...

2008-03-31T08:50:00.001-05:00

I almost forgot about April Fool's day (we've had our fun in years past), until I saw this link on Relevant's slices section. For some tech-savvy April Fool's jokes, check these out. My personal favorite is changing someone's Google language prefs to Elmer Fudd. In fact, I may just keep mine on that for kicks.

A Potent Reminder

2008-03-27T11:49:00.000-05:00

Put together by the talented staff of Buckhead Church for their Good Friday service last week.

[HT: Los]

Words of Old [ish]

2008-03-25T16:13:00.000-05:00

From time to time, I like to revisit my blog entries from a year ago. As I read over my late March and early April entries from 2007, something struck me. I am in a similar season now, although my future seems to be a little more predictable. But I am not foolish enough to believe that anything is to be expected anymore. All I know to do is follow where He leads.

For the sake of context, a year ago at this time I was on the verge of completing my Bachelor's degree and rather uncertain of where I was going, along with a few other things. It was not the easiest season of my life, but I count it as one of the best so far.

Without further adieu, here is an excerpt of an entry from last April:

***

...for the first time in a very long time, I'm completely content with the unknown. Not because I am denying that there comes a time when I need a plan...but because I'm not the one making the plan. I'm just following in the well-worn path my Father has made for me. I'm doing my part. I'm pulling my weight. I'm making the decisions He wants me to and using my head. But in the end, He is the one who opens doors. It's a humbling place to be, when all you've done is all you can do.

If there is one thing I have learned, it's this: Genuine humility begins with a willingness to be broken. And brokenness, in the context of God's love and security, is full of beauty, power, vulnerability and emotion.

So I challenge you, regardless of where you are or what your state of being is, to rest in the unknown, because ultimately You rest in the arms of a Father who knows all. He hears the cry of your heart. He hasn't forgotten. His everlasting arms will hold you up in the fire of trial and the midst of battle.

Recite with me these simple words: I don't know, and that's okay.

***

What were you blogging about a year ago?

Summer and Starlight

2008-03-23T19:49:00.000-05:00

I cannot resist any longer...my dear friend Justin has been adding quite a many songs to his repertoire of legendary tunes lately. He is currently residing with some pretty hip kids out at the Contemporary Music Center on Martha's Vineyard, and I think it has given him some fuel for recording more. He is almost done with his latest EP, entitled "Hey, Rube." Justin and I worked at the same camp for a few summers. He has been a good friend that I have seen almost every time I go home to Michigan (sadly not this last time, considering his current east-coast-dwellingness/general radness). Here are a few photos I snapped of him on one of those visits. Yes, he is that cool.

So if you feel like hearing some good natured, thought-provoking indie goodness...check him out here.

The Open Road

2008-03-19T09:54:00.000-05:00

The contrast between the the last two weeks of my life is rather startling. Undoubtedly, cause for examination. I was caught up in a flurry of activities, trying to take care of several things and see people before I left for a trip north with one of my best friends. Once we finally made it to the open road, something in my heart took flight. Both our faces lit up with the possibilities that lay ahead.

We braved the concrete jungle of Chicago on Monday, ducking in and out of trains and buses all day, staring up at the mammoth structures built by the hands of men and women just like us. We took in the many sides of the city, as much as we could in the limited time we had between the morning and evening train, and walked quite a bit. My legs are still sore, but worthily so. Fully exhausted, we returned to the quiet confines of my parents' house after a forever long, many-times-delayed train ride. I know she is a true friend when she leaned over and handed me an iPod earbud and turned up one of my favorite songs to drown out the noise of the complaining and chattering passengers around us. We also pulled out our crayons and coloring books and passed the time with more (ahem) artistic endeavors.

The past few days, we have woken up slowly and drifted around my hometown...collecting a pile of books at a bookstore and settling in with a cup of coffee. Making pancakes and watching movies that make us laugh, cry and evaluate our own lives. Visiting with my next of kin and hoping the sun comes out through the drearily overcast northern skies. Watching the stubborn, hard packed snow melt away with the drizzling March rain that is always present in northern springtime. Visiting the lakeshore, complete with its numbing winds and massive sand laden icebergs that formed along the coastline and over the breakwater and its lighthouses. It reminds us that, while many of our friends have chosen to go south to some tropical tourist trap, we have chosen a quite different journey. One that warrants just as much meaning, nonetheless.

Something about seeing the place where a person grew up, meeting the people who invested into her and encountering the nuances of daily life in her hometown is so revealing to her character. And something about playing the piano where I wrote so many of my deepest digging songs, walking the creaking wooden floors where I had many-a conversation with loved ones, making food in the kitchen where I seemed to have the most meaningful of talks with my mother...reminds me of who I am. Although I have changed immensely in the past few years, my roots remain deep, strong and telling.

And for that, I am humbly grateful.

It's time.

2008-03-11T20:46:00.000-05:00

First inspired by Los over at Ragamuffin Soul, I find it good to occasionally host a "Blog Lurker Come Out of the Closet Day." So, if you're a recent reader, a regular or just stopping in for the first time and have never commented...let me know. I'd love to hear who's reading.

Spreadin' the love.

For the love of palindromes...

2008-03-11T09:44:00.000-05:00

After logging into my dashboard today, I realized that this marks post number 101 for me. That may seem like a small number to some bloggers more savvy than I, but I am proud of my little achievement. =)

In honor of this monumental post (and the number 101 itself, since it is a lovely palindrome)...I have some fun palindromes to share. And yes, I am fully aware that putting the words "fun" and "palindrome" in the same sentence qualifies me as a nerd. What can I say? I love words and language.

Some popular ones:
-Madam, I'm Adam.
-Poor Dan is in a droop.

Some lesser known ones:
-Draw, O coward!
-Live not on evil.
-Rise to vote, sir.

And my some of my personal favorites:
-Do geese see God?
-Won't lovers revolt now?
-Yo, banana boy!

***
Well now, wasn't that fun? I thought so, at least.

Anything to add?

On Listening, Humility and Brokennes

2008-03-06T09:15:00.001-06:00

The words of a friend stopped me dead in my tracks this morning. Recounting a humbling and painful experience she finds herself in, she wrote, "Why do I wait to listen until the truth hurts like hell?"

Wow.

I realized how perfectly (and imperfectly) that captures my disposition lately. Although many areas of my life are lived in surrender to God, there are many that I cling to and try to control. In a discussion last night at my church, we talked about why we hesitate to fully let go of what we have and trust God to do what He said He will, to be who He says He is, to be everything we need today and ever will need in our lives. And when we come crawling back to Him in our brokenness from the stubborn mistakes we have made, realizing a truth that hurts all too potently, He never once denies us. But He does not hesitate to discipline us, as well...because He is a loving Father. His grace is overwhelming in this.

Even the disciples, the men who had walked with Jesus, wrapped their arms around Him, seen Him heal multitudes of people, watched Him die then resurrect...had serious issues with doubt. John 14 reveals such uneasiness in their questions. "How will we know the way home?" Thomas asked. "Show us the Father, and we will be satisfied." Philip said. But Jesus answers, "Philip, don't you even know who I am, even after all the time I have been with you? Anyone who has seen Me has seen the Father! Don't you believe that I am the Father and the Father is in Me? The words I say are not My own, but My Father who lives in Me does His work through Me. Just believe that I am the Father and the Father is in Me. Or at least believe because of what you have seen Me do." (John 14:9-11, TNLT)

As shattering as these words are...I can relate to their doubt in more ways than I would like to admit. Maybe seeing Him die a gruesome death on the cross was still something they weren't past, even though He was standing, flesh and blood, in front of them. Maybe all the times He was there with them and they saw His character lived out were somehow not enough for their mortal minds to believe, even though their hearts burned within them. Maybe they were just as human as I am today...even with the Divine staring them in the face and breathing the same air they did.

He has been here, undoubtedly, in my life. His arms around me have come in the form of so many family members, friends, strangers and fellow believers who have cared for me, even in the darkest times of my life. His faithfulness has revealed itself through every circumstance, even when I try to hold on to my life and make it work out.

Something I have learned in the past year is that true humility begins with a willingness to be broken. It is just a matter of how we arrive at that brokenness--by allowing God to break us or by allowing our own fall to break us. I have felt the urgent need in my life lately to allow margin, space, Sabbath...to hear God speak, to experience that divine brokenness, just so I can know Him better. Not to get an answer or direction, even if those are desperately needed. I just know that I need to be whole-hearted about something, and if I seek Him first, the rest will follow in His due time.

Complacency has reared its head in all the wrong places of my life, even if the people around me think I am making progress and accomplishing things. It was never about those things or those perceptions, though. It is foolishness without Him. It is hollow and meaningless without Jesus as the center of my life and God's Kingdom at the forefront of all that I do. I cannot get around it, because there is no other way than this straight and increasingly narrow path He has set before me. So here I find myself...and here I wait.

I will not go another step without Him.

Film = Bliss

2008-02-29T17:36:00.000-06:00

Some of my recent work on film.

[At Riverside in Tulsa]

[At a retreat on a ranch in Themiddleofnowhere, Oklahoma]

[Disclaimer: I am a novice photographer and a beginner, at best, when it comes to editing. So for those of you who are way more awesome than I at this wonderful craft...assess gently.]

Heaven's Dawn

2008-02-26T14:27:00.000-06:00

Those who love You
Will not be put to shame
Be faithful to Your promise
Defend the honor of Your name

***

Because of God's tender mercy, the light from heaven is about to break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and to guide us to the path of peace. (Luke 1:78-79)

I feel it breaking
Heaven’s dawn
Lights come on

Help us to find the way back Home

All is not lost
O radiant dawn
Light has come and darkness scatters
It fades away, and light will shine again
In the darkest places, it will find a way

Let there be light…
And there was light
Your glory cannot be contained
We are mortal, yet You are in our midst

The more I give away
The more I can see
It all begins and ends with You
You are author, finisher
Lord in the highest
The utmost, the deepest
The widest, most transcendent
So far beyond
Yet somehow…
Within

You are so impossibly close to us
One by one we have been written in Your heart
We find rest in knowing that Your heart beats for us
We are both lost and found in You
Perfectly intermingled in all that You are

You become more so we become less
You reduce us, release us, revive us
You breathe into us
What is mine I will not keep
To live is Christ, and to die is gain
There is none for me but You

We will sing as one
We will burn as one
Perfectly at one with You

May we move in time
With a rhythm that is divine
Sing in tune with a song
That resounds across the Heavens

We could join with the songs of angels
Let it echo around the universe
Circling galaxies and distant creations
Returning more fully than when it was first released

And still, we know
It all begins and ends
With You

***

[Photo by me. (c) 2008. All rights reserved. Only use with permission.]

Perspectify'd

2008-02-23T16:34:00.000-06:00

As I was transcribing the recording from a luncheon I covered this week, I heard the speaker say that making a list of what you're thankful for can help you with creativity, bring encouragement and, if anything, apply the right perspective to your life. I could use all of those things, so I took a moment to think it over. Here goes:

I am thankful for…

-God’s grace, righteousness, love, correction, faithfulness…and so much more
-a college degree of which I can be proud
-no debt to anyone but my parents (and knowing it was worth it)
-a good job that I enjoy
-a safe, cozy place to live
-a beautiful little Ugandan girl named Christine
-a quiet place to play my keyboard and write
-a car that runs well (and the money to fix it when it doesn’t)
-my new Macbook (a story in itself)
-23 years of a blessed and full life, and hopefully many more ahead
-community and friends who really, really love Jesus
-a new season to which I can look forward
-parents and family who support me when life hits me all at once
-a family that loves me unconditionally
-a family that tells me things I need to hear, even when it hurts
-a family that fights for me
-the opportunity to write about things that matter
-always having enough (and often more than enough)
-the opportunity to be responsible and grow in stewardship
-being able to buy things for others (lunch, a gift, a chai, things like that)
-a wonderful church family
-my two best friends living within a few miles of me, and being part of each others’ journeys
-the lessons I am continually learning as I live life beyond undergrad

***

So tell me...what are you thankful for?

Beautiful Christine

2008-02-14T17:12:00.000-06:00

She was black as midnight, and her big, dark eyes seemed to stare back at me from the photo on my computer screen, peering into my soul. Her pint-sized frame was covered by a light yellow dress with a big gold bow tied in front. She had what looked like pieces of candy, wrapped in each of her hands. I smiled at the thought of how candy might work to bribe my young nieces and nephew to stand still for photo. This little one will be 4 on Monday. Appropriately enough, Jon Foreman crooned in the background as I studied her:

She’s somebody’s baby, somebody’s baby girl. And she’s somebody’s baby still.

The gnarly trunk of the tree behind her in the photo reminded me that an ocean and a continent separated us. But already, she had crawled into a space in my heart and taken up residence. For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, tears were in my eyes as my heart swelled with compassion for this precious little girl. Her name was on my lips and in my heart.

Christine.

Her name means "follower of Christ." I pray it will be true for all her days. This child could change the world, for all I know.

I did not have any earth-shattering, divine revelation where I knew she was the one I should pick. If anything, I was overwhelmed at knowing which child to sponsor. They all need sponsors. They all need someone to reach out to them. They all need the compassion of our Savior, expressed through His followers that want nothing more than to bring more into His Kingdom and to make sure we take care of one another.

I can hardly wait to receive more information about Christine and to start writing her letters and sending her cartoon band-aids and making sure she knows just how much she matters. I anticipate the day I can fly to Uganda and hold her in my arms (and I will, God willing). To feel her breath on my neck and her heart beating against mine. To swing her around and dance with her and tell her all the wonderful things God has planned for her. I don’t know how long it will be until I meet her face to face, or what kind of woman she will become.

All I know is that something in her eyes stays with me. There is something in the significance of this new journey we are on together that will last for eternity.

I discovered a new little sister today. Her name is Christine, and she is a stunning reminder to me of God’s love, grace and compassion.

Happy Valentine’s Day, friends.

[My sponsorship of Christine was inspired by a group of 15 bloggers that went overseas with Compassion International to Uganda, Africa. Each day, they recounted what they saw in words, videos and photographs. To read more about these “Compassion Bloggers” and to find links to their individual blogs, visit here. The blogs I followed, and that inspired me to sponsor, were those of Shaun and Los. To sponsor a child through Compassion International, please visit here. If you do sponsor, please tell us your story here. I promise you will not regret it!]

The Compassion Bloggers

2008-02-13T13:29:00.000-06:00

A few of my blog-rollers are over in Uganda with Compassion International right now. The graphic above is specific to Los' blog. In total, 15 well-known Christians bloggers are spending the next several days there, recounting their stories via their blogs and video entries.

The goal: to save kids' lives.

I would not promote something here in this little space if I did not think it was absolutely worthwhile. This is one of those efforts that needs to be noted. There are countless kids out there just waiting for someone to sponsor them. And now some of their stories are being told by these remarkable people. To see a full listing of the bloggers, links to their pages and more information about Compassion and its sponsorship opportunities, you can visit here. It is a very worthy cause, and something I hope to be more involved with someday.

Thanks for listening. =)

Twenty Three Years

2008-02-07T08:52:00.000-06:00

Yesterday marked my 23rd year of existence on this planet. Twenty three years of a life that has been filled with joy, family, ups, downs, lessons learned and stripes earned, and some of the greatest friends I have ever known. I remember being so anxious a year ago about where I would be and who I would be with when I turned 23. I imagined I would be in some big city, working as a journalist or publicist, drinking organic coffee and living in some suburban apartment complex. I wasn't too far off, but I had no idea I would stay in Tulsa. It has been a very good, providential thing. I have said it before and I will say it again...our God is faithful.

I am fairly certain that I laughed more last night than I have in quite some time. I found myself surrounded by a table full of those near and dear to me (minus my flesh and blood family), and all throughout the day I was astounded at the way people came out of the woodwork to make sure I felt loved. What a day it was.

The timing of all this is impeccable. I am left with the assurance that I need in the midst of some difficult decisions. The kind of assurance that only comes when God overwhelms us with His love and peace. The kind of conviction that comes when I encounter the living God in all His justice and holiness. The kind of fire that is necessary to separate the pure from the impure. The kind of paradox that can only exist in His Kingdom, and still be perfect and true.

Let us journey on.

Old Blue

2008-02-04T09:04:00.000-06:00

After five years of faithfully working and ocassionally cussing at me...my laptop finally gave out. It hardly stays on for more than 30 seconds, but we managed to get it all backed up. Which is good because my life pretty much would have ended if I lost my work that is on there. (It's been too long since I last backed it up...lesson learned!)

So I'm finally caving in and getting one of these. Sure beats a clunky old Dell.

It is a long story earmarked by God's faithfulness, really. I'd tell it all but the details might be boring. All that to say, I am both humbled and grateful at the way He always steps in and provides for me...especially when I think I have it all under control.

Good thing it's not about me, eh?

All Signs Point To....

2008-01-29T19:58:00.000-06:00

[HT: Brody]

The Kingdom [as I know it]

2008-01-28T11:36:00.000-06:00

The Kingdom, as I know it, is…

The well-worn path to my favorite coffee shop. The way that I am known there by both name and drink, greeted warmly when I walk through its doors. The friends I have come to know better because of the times I spend there. The way Jefe dims the lights at 9 p.m. and puts his iPod mix over the speakers. The many Chuck Norris jokes exchanged over tea and chai and cowboy coffee. It’s the richness of the memories I have in the midst of its cozy confines and the people I love.

The Kingdom, as I know it, is…

Tripping as I come onto stage to lead worship for a set at The Burn. If I had even the slightest notion that it was about me, I think God chuckled kindly at my own clumsiness and reminded me that it was, and always will be, about Him. As it should be. It’s the way I come alive when I feel His breath and presence infused into the words I sing and the notes I play. It’s the way my heart burns at the thought of Heaven coming down and dwelling, dancing, moving, igniting, changing hearts in our midst. It’s the way the watchman on the wall is blazing with the fire to see the Divine meet the mortal. Pressing in, digging deeper, never relenting, never losing hope. It’s the way I realize, all over again, that He is closer than my skin, invading every part of me until I am completely at one with Him.

I cannot be silent anymore.

The Kingdom, as I know it, is…

Gathering around with friends that feel like family, with little grasp on what the words start and dismissed mean. Worshipping together, lingering in His presence and speaking truth with the same fire in all our eyes. Seeing the Kingdom in their lives, their art, their hearts. It’s hearing it in their words and singing along with it in their songs. It’s in a room full of broken icons that represent the very image of God, coming together as a beautiful mosaic and reflecting who He truly is in an ever-potent way.

The Kingdom, as I know it, is…

The way the candles flicker on my mantle and my bathroom counters. They remind me of the Light that came down to drive away the darkness in our world, the hope that came into our midst. Yahweh with skin. Emmanuel. It’s the artwork adorning the once empty spaces in my apartment and the meaning behind each piece. It’s the way God has proven over and over again that He is a faithful Father, providing my every need and astonishing me at His perfect timing. It’s so much more than bills paid, budgets balanced and savings in the bank. It is a perfect peace, a wholeness, in which He has taught me to dwell. He dismisses my every worry and gently, yet righteously, exposes my distractions and idols as I learn how to be part of His plan of redemption for the world each day that I live.

[To be continued via Rele-web.]

So tell me: what is the Kingdom to you?

Ye Olde Relevant Podcast

2008-01-23T21:28:00.001-06:00

My MS Paint prowess at its best...

And again...

This is a namless (as of yet) whale shark, so kindly introduced and inspired by the editorial crew on Relevant Magazine's weekly podcast. It's a hilarious, ongoing joke they have, and I must say, Adam Smith does a great impression of this friendly fish. I got inspired after listening to the latest podcast last night and put these illustrations together. They may not make much sense to non-listeners, but I think they may be good for kicks either way.

If you're totally lost right now, you should remedy that by becoming a listener of the greatest podcast on the face of the planet.

Dwelling in His Midst

2008-01-20T16:39:00.000-06:00

I was uploading some sorely neglected Christmas photos from my camera this afternoon when I came across this one. The last night I was home for the holidays, this is what I faced:

This is my baby. Her name is Grace (aka Gracie Mae, or Goose). I am convinced that she has special sulking powers that will pull your heart strings until you give in and do things her way. In this case, she was laying in the middle of my bedroom floor while I was trying to pack. Of course, I gave in and cuddled with her for a while, and maybe got a little teary eyed at the thought of driving away, once again, from my beloved family and the streets where I grew up. Home is where the dog is, I often say in jest, and she is 1,000 miles away in Michigan.

All this has gotten me thinking about what it means to make my dwelling place with God. All throughout the Psalms, I see the theme of making our home with God, of dwelling in His courts and His presence. Many conversations I have had the past month or so have centered around this deep aching, an acute longing, to be home. And ultimately, I know our home is in eternity. But as I sit around with friends that feel like family, worshiping God and talking about His ways and what is happening in our lives, I feel like I am somehow a step closer to that blissful place.

My friend Symon said something this week that really made me think about the significance of fellowship, community and gathering in God's name. He told the story of how his grandfather passed away last year, and how he was with his sisters and mom this past Christmas enjoying each other's company. There were moments, he said, that it seemed almost as if his grandpa was there, just because of the way one of them would articulate something or the way someone was acting. He said that his grandpa had been so close to them that they all carried part of him with them. The same thing is true of our relationship with Jesus.

You see, we are all made in God's image. We are broken icons that represent Him. So when we are all together, we see a rich and diverse reflection that is much more powerful and accurate than if we remained in solitude. And naturally, when we are all living according to ways of the Kingdom, unity will be in our midst. This is perhaps more a dream than a reality with the modern church, but I am beginning to see it take shape more and more as I am around the community I have discovered in this season of my life.

It is a beautiful story, and by no means have I arrived in terms of fully grasping what it means to be a part of God's Kingdom. But each day, each time I am with these like-minded people that want nothing more than God to dwell in our midst, I begin to see it more clearly.

Selah.

Kappa Mexicana

2008-01-18T13:38:00.001-06:00

I am part of an unofficial, not-so-secret group of girls called Kappa Lamba Pi. We all love to cook, and few members are markedly better in the kitchen than the rest (read: I'm awesome at making tea). Usually our nights together consist of a multitude of food choices, a chick flick or a few episodes of Grey's Anatomy (guilty pleasure) and a lot of giggling. One of the girls just got a Wii for Christmas, so we're kicking it up to a new level this time around. Heck yes!

Tonight, we are making enchiladas with green chile, along with some sopapillas for dessert. Recipe compliments of Mama Muncy, who cooks chile spicy enough to drain every ounce of mucus from your body:

I share this because I am so stinking excited about it and can hardly contain myself for the next 4 hours at work. I'll get there. Eventually.

Viva las chicas de Kappa!

The Longbrake

2008-01-16T21:55:00.000-06:00

The long awaited photography of Joshua Longbrake is now for sale online! You have no idea how excited I am to see this happen for him. Josh has written for my section on relevantmagazine.com for a while now, and though I have not met him personally, it has been fun to hear pieces of his journey as he blogs and photographs life as he knows it. Here is one of my personal favorite photos (used by permission):

You can visit his site here to purchase prints or canvases of his work. The site has everything you'll need. And while you're at it, you should check out his Flickr for more photos and his blog for your reading enjoyment.

:)

Mayhem Ensues...

2008-01-15T13:55:00.000-06:00

I have won another friend over to blogger! Drumroll please...

Luci! Or more so, the Lampe family.

So my two best friends are on my blogroll, and I find that it is a happy day indeed. Stay tuned to her blog for their adventures as new parents and also as very talented musicians. They hope to move to Nashville within the year (and perhaps I will follow), and I can only imagine Luci's musical career will continue to grow from there.

If you'd like, you can peruse her music myspace here.

Welcome to blogger, my dearest Luci!

A [poem] with [rhyme]

2008-01-13T22:19:00.000-06:00

We speak in code
Not one could know
But we must keep our voices low

We fall and rise
And now comprise
This story told within our eyes

The ebb and flow
We come and go
Our depths to one another show

These hearts now bound
With love we’ve found
We will forever walk this ground

With hand in hand
And shifting sand
As one, we find…this is our land

[Title: Hearts as One. Author: Rachel. Written: 1-12-08]

The Ivories Beckon

2008-01-10T10:05:00.000-06:00

(Shot on film with my Canon Rebel XT)

Rhema Love

2008-01-08T13:13:00.000-06:00

And the latest addition to my blogroll is...the lovely, the talented, the oh-so-vivacious and articulate...Rhema!

This girl is one of the nearest, dearest people to me and a true friend. Go. Read. Be inspired. She is one of those girls that has something to say that is worth hearing.

[Much love, Miss Rhema. Welcome to the world of blogger.]

Adieu, 2007.

2008-01-05T14:26:00.000-06:00

Some blogger friends inspired me to do a recap entry of 2007. So let's start at the beginning...

January

I started on a bit of a melancholic tone, remembering the sudden loss of my cousin two years ago and the near loss of my mother in those same few months. It was the first holiday season without him and, though I didn't know him well, I watched as my near and dear uncle, step aunt and step cousin coped with the loss. And I looked back at the previous March and realized what a miracle it was that my mom survived a head on collision. The picture is testimony enough:

They cut the door away, and she came out of it with a broken femur and some bumps and bruises. There is a lot more to the story, but I won't go into that now.

February-April

I paced through my last semester of college and got a little more comfortable with the unknown. I took a chance and opened my heart a little (and consequently got let down, as well). I learned a multitude of things about God and myself and who my true friends really are. I also discovered a newfound fondness for everything Mae.

May-July

I turned my tassle, packed my room and hit the road with my family for one last summer at home. I worked at my beloved camp and made some fantastic memories. It was golden, and something about watching the moon dance off the waves and the sound of the water rushing against the shoreline helped me to find myself again, in the midst of a broken heart. I came to the realization that graduating magna cum laude with a journalism degree from a good school could be both very helpful and very useless in finding a job, and that it was entirely in God's hands. I learned to trust Him even more.

I landed a job as a journalist back in Tulsa and, once again, found myself saying goodbyes and driving away with a lot on my mind. I took a road trip east, then south, then west and managed to visit family and some friends in Nashville (one day I shall return).

August-November

I started a new chapter, even though I was back in a place I'd been so much before. I went through the motions of signing my life away on behalf of becoming an adult (going through new employee training, buying a new car after some nut totaled my dearest Izzy, getting something like seven kinds of insurance, getting my own place, paying my bills, the list goes on). I did grown up things, like buying a dining room table from Wal-Mart (and living to tell about it).

I had some halting moments, and learned how to truly forgive and heal. The term "water under the bridge" took on an entirely new meaning to me. I got homesick something fierce but had time to go home and be with my beautiful family for the holidays. I played my first show as a singer/songwriter and made some incredible new friends. I have a feeling there is much more to come.

December

I had the privilege of watching my best friend and her husband welcome baby Cali into the world. We simultaneously survived the worst ice storm in Oklahoma history and lived through what W decided was a state of emergency and a major disaster. In a twisted way, it made li'l ol' Oklahomey feel important.

I drove home with three friends on little to no sleep, despite the elements, and I had 12 days off to rest and enjoy my family and friends over Christmas and the New Year.

And here we are today. Hooray! I'll buy you a frappuccino if you clicked (and read) all those links.

Accelerando!

Going Global

2008-01-03T17:03:00.000-06:00

Sometimes it's fun to see where you guys are all coming from. Not too many regular readers, but nonetheless, a hodgepodge of visitors. Thanks for stopping in!

So now that you're here, do you have anything to say?

Fire Breathers and Balance

2008-01-02T21:42:00.000-06:00

I am currently transcribing an interview I had with a guy who is a fast-talking, fire-breathing visionary. Just fifteen minutes of the conversation has taken me about 30+ minutes to transcribe, considering I have to stop, track back and listen to something a few times before I can catch all of what he said. Listening to him makes me wonder if I could speak with such passion...perhaps the same passion with which I write.

And herein lay my challenge: how can I describe a movement, a community, a revolution, that is driven by God and Heaven...in terms that make sense to those who may not believe in it? There isn't a way to decode the Christianese surrounding it without doing an injustice to its true meaning. It's the age-old issue of explaining the mysteries of God and the foolishness of the Cross to those who are not in relationship with Jesus.

I like to find balance in everything and work it into the stories I write about others. But this time around, it's proving to be a bit more difficult. I try to get these guys to come down to the earth and explain things, but then I realize there is nothing earthly about what's happening. It's about a collision of Heaven with earth, and the things that consequently ensue.

///

I apologize if this seems pointless, but I'm mostly just taking a break from transcribing and working out my mind boggling moments during this project. And I also apologize for the ambiguity about what I'm actually working on, but I don't think it's time really that important to talk much about it anyhow.

And all apologies aside...I'm done now. :)

Merry New Year, friends/fellow bloggers/readers/lurkers/strangers.

Resolve

2007-12-28T18:58:00.000-06:00

These are a few of my personal resolutions for the New Year at hand. Who knows if I will achieve all of them, but I’d like to give it my best effort.

***

As ever, draw closer to God. I’d mention that it goes without saying, but then I wouldn’t have said it.

Be more intentional with others. This was a resolution I have held the past few years, and I don’t see any reason to discontinue it. Community is so vital to existence and to understanding God's character.

Read (and actually finish) a decent number of books. So far on my list are titles by Donald Miller, Anne Lamott, David Crowder, Douglas Adams and perhaps a little Tolstoy (along with a few other authors whose names escape me).

Try to write a novel. I think it’s time I give it a shot. I’m open to title and topic ideas.

Hone my photography skills. I’ve dabbled in shooting film here and there (mostly because all I own is a 35mm SLR…which I love). I’d like to grow in this and perhaps take a class at the community college.

Journal more often. I find it to be a very healthy habit, since most of my journal entries become conversations with God and necessarily introspective.

Get some art on my walls. Seriously. It’s just sad having my paintings sitting on the floor leaning against the wall. I need to buy a hammer and some nails. And some Longbrake originals, as soon as he gets his online store running.

Play more shows. I played my first official show with my best friend Rhema and my good friend Symon a few months ago. And I certainly hope to have more to come. I think I need to sing my songs to more than just a wall, and I’ve been writing a lot lately. For those of you unfamiliar with this side of me, I play piano, sing and write songs that usually end up reflecting a variety of influences.

***

What about you? I’d love to hear your resolutions, no matter how significant or subtle they may be.

Remembrance [part 3]

2007-12-26T01:05:00.000-06:00

She saw it in his eyes, if only for a moment. The candle-lit service and the hymns they sang filled the air with nostalgia. He didn't say a word, but he wiped away a tear or two. She wondered if she was only imagining it, but nonetheless she felt it. It was only the second Christmas without him. No call from the northwest. No passing around of the phone to say hello. Just life as they knew it to be.

She studied his brother, left behind in a quiet tragedy that should have never happened. She wondered if he thought of him that night, or if the shuffle of family and games and gifts was enough to drown out the emptiness left by a loved one too quickly departed. She wondered at how it would feel, but could only go so far before becoming overwhelmed at the thought of losing a sibling. Flesh and blood. Heart and soul. Someone there through years of memories and changes and events and gatherings. And then suddenly, painfully, taken away.

She wondered about Heaven and Hell and how only God can judge a heart, even as its mortal life is slipping away. What happens in a moment? Can it change eternity? She only prayed it could be so for him. For his sake. For their sake.

And there was grace enough to keep on living. Moving. Laughing. Breathing. Enjoying. Remembering. Bitter sorrow was now tempered by joy that only family can bring.

And once again, hope was in the midst of them.

[Part 1 and Part 2]

Awake vs. Alert + Family Ties

2007-12-22T23:31:00.000-06:00

I've had my share of road trips that last into (or even begin during) the wee-hours of the morning. I've driven my share of dark, windy roads on ridiculously small amounts of sleep and way too many Dr. Peppers/Starbucks beverages. And I've even braved some pretty intense elements on my handful of solo trips. But for some reason, this one really got me.

Fog.

Not just patchy, here and there fog that lifts after a while. I mean, it lasted for about 12 of the 14 hours we drove. All the way through Missouri (read: Misery) and into southern Illinois and part of Indiana. I stayed awake with Adam from about 2 a.m. to 6 a.m. and then drove from 6-7, right before the dawn. My eyes were tired but I told him he could sleep if he wanted. Jenna and Ryan were in the back, completely out. That was a mistake. Stephen Christian's crooning tenor vocals and Anberlin's (sometimes repetitive) guitar riffs could only do so much to keep me alert.

I could only see about 10 feet in front of the car that whole time. Not having anything to focus on plays some really weird tricks on your mind. I always felt like the road was going to curve, but I was wrong every time. Not to mention we'd started our journey at 2:30 in the morning (which, in truth, wasn't all that far from the original plan) and I hadn't slept since the night before. So inevitably, I was fighting with myself internally.

I'm awake. But how alert am I?

You know those moments where you wonder if what you're doing is even that safe or healthy, but aren't really in a state of mind to effectively finish a thought? That's usually a sign that you should throw it in. I pulled over at Conoco and called it quits. I feel like such a wuss for only lasting an hour, but hey, I was Adam's navigator and conversation for 4 hours too, so that counts for something.

Needless to say, we were all very glad when we arrived in Michigan and made it to our respective homes and families. I ditched my stuff at the house and went to my brother's to celebrate his birthday. We'd barely made it past the tacos and dirt cake when we were talking about God's character and theology and truth and society. My brother got out his Bible and we all ended up at the table eventually, talking about some brutally honest things. This is pretty typical of my family, which is a big reason why I love being home so much.

These are people that I really, truly trust (fallible though we are) and that are fully entitled to speak truth into my life. God uses them in such powerful ways, even if my times with them are few and far between. They are true warriors, fighting for the right things (like the Kingdom of God) and doing what they were created to do.

I'm glad to be back for the week, and to remember the significance of the season. God came down and put on skin. He dwelt with us as a human for a while and showed us that He loves enough to do the unthinkable. Just to see us through to restoration and redemption and to give us a hope for Heaven. What a beautiful, joyous, unfathomable gift. I am eternally grateful.

May God warm your soul in this season. Merry Christmas!

Publish'd

2007-12-21T21:16:00.000-06:00

Hello friends. Some of you may have noticed my latest article up on RELEVANTmagazine.com. If you haven't visited there yet, feel free to check it out. You should note that it's an expanded version of my recently written piece entitled "Held" (retitled for Relevant's purposes).

While you're there, I really encourage you to look around a bit, maybe hit the blogs or join a thread on the message boards, or just enjoy the content and the amazing line up for music vids they have.

I love me some Relevant, and I'd like to share the love!

Merry Christmas, guys!

The Church [as I know it]

2007-12-18T10:21:00.000-06:00

I was walking across campus with a coworker yesterday and she mentioned that her church will be having a guy dressed as Santa there this weekend to pose for pictures with kids. I did a double take and told her I thought that was odd, considering Santa isn't exactly what the church believes Christmas is about. She said something like, "Well, our pastor just wants to get more people to come to the church."

I'll admit it. I got a little self-righteous in that moment.

I said something like, "Well...I'd never do something like that to get people to come." I wanted to tell her the church isn't a building that we try to get people to come visit. The church is a living, breathing body of believers, and it is most alive and in its place when it spends time outside the four walls of a building, helping people right where they are. It is the hundreds of believers that jumped in to help with the power restoration this weekend, assessing the damage and needs of thousands upon thousands of households. It is the people who have taken in dozens of others into their homes so they don't have to cope with freezing temperatures and depressing darkness in their own houses. It's the helping hands lent, the embraces offered, the interventions made, the love given, the joy shared. The building a body of believers owns, if anything, is a headquarters from which we go out.

But who am I to point this out when I rarely do it myself? I get so wrapped up with work and freelancing and seeing friends and (yes) going to church events that I forget we are meant to be light-bearers in a dark world. To live every moment in the mentality that we are representing Jesus. To challenge myself to look at people through His eyes and to allow my heart to break with what breaks His.

That said, I am beginning to understand what it means to burn again. To be moved. To be alive. To be aflame with the love of Christ and the holiness He possesses. To drive away the darkness and to bring warmth to those who are in such desperate need of it. To hear their story, to realize they can help me as much as I can help them...and to somehow make a difference for this upside Kingdom of which I am a part.

Will you join me?

Burning Ones

2007-12-16T18:52:00.000-06:00

I was recently assigned a feature story for one of my freelancing gigs and, in the process, I have come to know some truly passionate people. They understand the Kingdom of God in a way I have not yet come to know myself, but the more I am around them, the more I realize there must be more to living a life of true worship than what I've known so far. There has to be something deeper, something more fervent, something more consuming, something more earth-shattering and entirely captivating.

I can see it in their eyes. It is burning, living, breathing, moving, organic, raw and genuine. Do they see it in my eyes? Perhaps it has been dormant all this time, or seldom stirred. How did I grow so cold? Was there ever a time I understood, really? I think so, but that time came and went with the rise and fall of a community I once knew. Now, a few years later, I find myself on the verge of diving into something that is beyond what any of us can fathom.

And here I am, trying to transcribe interviews and put together a lengthy story about this movement...this burning...this grassroots group of worshippers who want nothing more than to see God change the atmosphere around them and effect change in their hearts and their communities.

I can only pray I do the story justice. I have a feeling that it will change me as much as (I hope) it will change those that read it someday.

Here goes everything.

Baby Cali

2007-12-13T17:20:00.000-06:00

Luci and Ryan have one beautiful, perfectly formed little girl. She was christened Calandra Thuyanh Lampe. (Her middle name is Vietnamese, after Ryan's aunt.) And she's got some powerful lungs, so hopefully she'll sing like her very talented mami! I got to hold her for a long time Wednesday night, and she fell asleep in my arms. Not like my heart wasn't melted before, but dear Lord, what a feeling that is! And she's not even mine. :)

Photos!

What a little tike she is!

With her teddy bear from Aunt Alina.

A proud papi, if I ever saw one. He cried when she was born.

Making faces with daddy.

Abuela Pilar serenading her in Spanish. Might I add that I'm SO excited to have some of Pilar's flan this weekend.

Yep, Luz was exhausted at this point. Even more so than when we did our all-nighter drives to and from Nashville! But she is so beautiful, either way!

She is very loved.

She definitely has Luci's eyes. So lovely.

Welcome to our world, little Cali.

Comin' Out

2007-12-12T13:35:00.000-06:00

Okay, I caved.

According to Los, it's National Blog Lurker Come Out Of The Closet Day. Not that I really think I have that many readers who don't comment (wouldn't it be sad if nobody responded? haha), or that many readers who DO comment in the first place. But, if by some chance, you read my blog and haven't commented, now's your chance to make yourself known.

Trust me, it's liberating.

It's a war zone!

2007-12-10T13:30:00.000-06:00

7 crazy things that have happened in the past 3 days [as a result of the nasty ice storm that doesn't want to let up]:

1. The power went out yesterday right as Mr. Bingley was about to propose to Jane! Oh the suspense! (I've seen Pride and Prejudice at least half a dozen times.)

2. My friend Caleb's car got completely destroyed by ice-covered branches that fell on it.

3. The power went out AGAIN at 1 a.m. and I woke up to the sound of electrical discharge from powerlines somewhere down the road from my apartment. I've never heard anything like it. We saw the sky flicker blue last night as we were driving, too, from another downed powerline and/or exploding transformer.

4. It took me 15 minutes to even get my car door open this morning (oh, the wonders I've accomplished with a table knife in hand) and another 30 minutes to scrape enough ice off to even see where I was going. I think I need a bigger scraper.

5. My furnace, water heater, fridge, stove and everything else electric have no juice, and they say it may be til Wednesday before we get power back. I have a fireplace and no wood. (That may change, though!)

6. My coworker ended up in the ER after slipping on the ice over the pedestrian bridge coming into work this morning. She dislocated her shoulder. It's terrible! :(

7. I walked across campus to join my best friend for lunch, thinking it would be safer than trying to drive home. I was wrong. Fallen branches EVERYWHERE and more coming down (quite literally) every minute. It was spectacular to see everything covered in ice, though. Eerily beauitful, I say.

It's hard not to laugh when you hear a loud crack and see people and wildlife alike scatter and run for their lives as some branch comes crashing down. It's genuinely treacherous, but comical once we realize everyone's okay.

There are loud crashes outside every 10 or 15 minutes, along with sirens and an occassional scream, and the power keeps flickering here, so I'll wrap this up.

Photos!

Quick update

2007-12-07T16:30:00.000-06:00

Baby Cali has arrived! Details soon. God is so crazy amazing!

Right on time!

2007-12-07T10:02:00.000-06:00

My best friend, Luci, is due to have her baby today. A little girl (and their first child)! Apparently this little tike is punctual, because Luci's in the hospital now and in the early stages of labor. YIKES! I'll be there on my lunch hour and promptly after work.

Here she is at 39 weeks, blooming and beautiful:

Please pray, since this is their first child. Luz sounded a little scared on the phone and definitely in a lot of pain. It comes with the territory, I suppose, but she sure could use those prayers, especially from those of you who have gone through this process.

Thanks, guys! I'm so excited for all this! You can bet I'll be posting pictures of the new arrival this weekend. What a beautiful day it is!

Held

2007-11-29T14:25:00.000-06:00

It's at my doorstep, knocking gently but constantly, until I let it in. It refuses to relent, persisting despite the elements. Warmth. Sun. Cold. Rain. Even the wind won't drive it away. Nearly each day I pass by and something inside me pauses, frozen in some sort of fear, entirely unsure of what do about it. Why couldn't I face this long ago?

It's time.

It's in my living room, laughing and sipping a cup of tea. Was it always so familiar? It seems we are old friends. And every day it takes more space, spreading to the corners of my ceiling and the cracks in the mantle. Silently it envelops me, and I try to hold my breath.

I cannot prevent the inevitable.

It's in my lungs. My heart. My being. It seeps into my soul. With wide eyes and shaky hands, I reach out for more. I don't know what it looks like to truly be at home right now, but somehow I know I am drawing closer. Yes, I am drawn in. Held. And now I learn to return the embrace.

Is the chase really over? Or will I run again?

The Tides Have Come...

2007-11-28T08:47:00.001-06:00

Mysterious. Powerful. Ebbing. Flowing. Unstoppable. Constant. Fierce.

It seems change has been my constant companion these past six months.

My best friend and her husband are very, very close to welcoming their new daughter into the world (my cell phone is always close by, consequently). Several of my friends have gotten engaged and/or married. Many more have moved far and wide, to other cities, other states, other countries...maybe even other planets, so it seems. And even more are moving in just a few weeks. I have a feeling I'll join them soon enough. I graduated from college, and the very university that I know and love has undergone sweeping changes in the last few months, and especially the last few days. I'm honored to be a part of such a time as this.

And in the midst of all these changes, I find that I have gone headlong into my career and [finally] stepped out as a musician and let people hear my songs. I've begun to paint and learned how much I enjoy it. I've honed my skills as a photographer. In other words, I've embraced my inner artsy-fartsy-ness. There are a lot of "new" things in my life, as well. New car. New place. New look. New job. Even a new community of Christians that I hadn't quite connected with before.

And as much as I struggle to find this narrow path that God has called us to, I am far from hopeless. I get overwhelmed just as much as anyone by the tides, but I am also constantly reminded that I'm not alone. Community has been so key lately. I never knew it could be like this. And I cannot imagine my life being anything short of this adventure, because therein I've learned more of who Christ is and who I am in Him. There really aren't words to describe it.

El fin...or perhaps it is the beginning.

How sweet the sound...

2007-11-22T19:40:00.000-06:00

After what seemed like 4 very long months, I returned home today. Well, home in the sense of, "Home is where the dog is." I was surrounded by almost every member of my immediate and extended family tonight and I have such a different perspective on how precious it is. I love seeing how they mingle and talk and laugh and tell stories with their hands as much as they do with their words. They're truly beautiful. It reminds me again of God's faithfulness in all this.

I got tears in my eyes as my flight descended today and I could see the snow-speckled landscape of my beloved home state. And soon enough, I was thrown into a flurry of an abundance of food and way too much pie for my own good. And now I'm sitting in my room with my dog sprawled out on the floor next to me and the sounds of my family downstairs. I think I'll go join them...and maybe get more than 4 hours of sleep tonight.

I'm bracing myself for the marathon of eating that is to come, since we're celebrating more traditionally tomorrow. It's always fun with three little kids running around nowadays. I adore my nieces and my nephew, even if they're stinkers and hit the panic button on the minivan. :)

Happy Thanksgiving, guys. I know I'm very thankful today. What a needed break it is.

Cheers.

The High and Low of it

2007-11-19T17:00:00.001-06:00

Tomorrow's forecast: high of 81, low of 50
Wednesday's forecast: high of 49, low of 31

And they wonder why everyone is sick. Thank you, Oklahoma. :)

When I was a kid, Christmas was actually legit...

2007-11-15T08:30:00.000-06:00

As we all know by now, saying "Christmas" isn't politically correct. But this is just too much. At least it's in Australia, but it'll be no time until it circulates to America, I'm sure. And since when is Santa on a diet?

Not that the latter two things really help or hinder what Christmas is about (of course, including Christ in Christmas is vital), but cut Santa some slack! The jolly old fellow probably doesn't even have a day job aside from sitting in malls and standing on street corners. Far be it from us to stop him.

It's a good thing Rev. Billy is out to save Christmas and avert the Shopocalypse!

[HT: Chad...naturally.]

Finding rhythm

2007-11-12T12:46:00.000-06:00

These have been my lessons as of late:

Close your ears. Close your mouth. And listen.

When noise seems to surround me on every side, I start to grow accustomed to it, allowing it to permeate me and become part of who I am. But when I come to the realization that I've allowed this to go on, I cut it off. Turn off the cell phone, the TV, the computer, the radio. I light some candles and sit on my living room floor and just regroup. I talk to God. Journal my thoughts and have a real conversation with Him. I pull out some acryllics and canvas and paint. I try to do whatever makes me focus best. And most of all, I have learned to take time to listen.

Don't get me wrong, I have not arrived by any means. In fact, I'm feeling pretty fed up with myself today, trying to cut the crap and get to where I need to be with God and with my life.

Cherish solitude.

Although community is something I believe to be vital to our existence both as humans and as Christians, there is such value in solitude. Something about solitude reminds me of how small I am, because when I'm alone I tend to look around at the world and remember that I am only a single part of a beautiul tapestry. But I also remember that I belong.

Embrace silence.

Silence used to make me uncomfortable, especially in the company of someone else. But now, I feel like I cannot live without times of silence in each day. Granted I am not a morning person, I greatly enjoy not having to speak for the first hour or so of my day. I can just quietly allow the day to begin and wait for the rest of me to catch up. It works well.

Another value of silence I've found is when an entire room full of people is perfectly quiet together in the presence of God. I've heard people recount stories time and time again of how some of the most potent times of corporate worship they've experience is when everyone and everything was still and quiet. I can tell similar stories, indeed.

Simplify.

I hate clutter, even though my mother may tell you otherwise when I lived under the same roof as them. Either way, at the core, I am something of a minimalist. Although I love decorating and coordinating colors and themes, I don't like to have a lot of unnecessary stuff. I'm not a pack rat. I organize often. Yet, somehow, I allow clutter into my life in the form of distractions.

Media can be a big downfall for me, considering I am a communicator by nature. I love hearing stories as much as I enjoy telling them. I love interacting with others as much as I love watching people interact with each other and with their surroundings. I enjoy watching people go about their time in an airport or at a coffee shop. I'm not easily bored, really. And I very much enjoy a well-scripted and strongly produced TV show.

All this to say, I have to keep myself in check with how much I allow media to be a part of my life. I find nothing wrong with enjoying a good episode of my favorite show or time spent skipping around Facebook. But it really is about balance and priority. It's a battle all of us fight, one way or another.

Don't get comfortable.

I was laying in my bed one night, overwhelmed at how faithful God has been. I feel like I'm finally on my own two feet. His perfect will has been so evident in my life lately (especially when I fight it), and it's undoubtedly taken me by surprise. But as I looked around me that night, I felt God speak to me.

None of this should make you happy. None of this should make feel secure. Only I can do that.

Wow. How true it is when I look at my recent striving for security and my bitter failure at finding it outside His arms. I fall to pieces every time I try to battle it out and find some sort of temporal security blanket. And then I come back to Him, laying the whole mess of me at His feet. He embraces me every time.

And here I am. I know that I am perfectly safe where I belong, even though I have had more than one nay-sayer about my disposition recently. And though it may seem strange (even to me) that I chose to come back to Tulsa when I could have gone almost anywhere, I am thoroughly enjoying this season of my life. I feel like I have grown more into who I am. I'm also learning about parts of me that I never realized existed and about things that make me come alive that I haven't done before. It's beautiful, and I'm grateful. So once again I say...

Here's to the journey.

Wal-Mart and Macho Men

2007-11-06T11:28:00.000-06:00

Allow me to preface this entry by saying that I hate Wal-Mart and avoid it at all costs. I only go when I need to. It's not my idea of a pleasant experience, especially after dark.

My good friend Eddie and I hopped in his truck last night and headed to Wal-Mart to buy a kitchen table + chairs set for my place. It was a 5-piece set, conveniently packed into a large box, and a little too heavy for Eddie to get off the shelf. He didn't want me to try to lift it because he was afraid I'd hurt my back, which has been a little touch and go lately. After wandering around and looking for an associate, we finally came across an official looking employee with a walky-talky. His name tag read "Doug." We asked Doug if he could help us get the table into a cart, and he and another guy came back with us.

Now Doug, mind you, seemed like a fairly fit guy. But he's no Vin Diesel.

Doug proceeded to squat down and pull the table off the shelf, balancing the entire box on himself. His coworker came around quickly to help him, but it seemed Doug intended to lift it all by himself. I was standing behind the cart (a regular sized shopping cart, which the box was clearly not going to fit into), watching from what I thought was a safe distance. I was wrong.

The box, of course, slipped away from Doug and landed on the edge of the cart, sending the cart careening toward me. It slammed into my forearm, and I can only imagine that the look on my face resembled something like a deer in the headlights. I was speechless for a few moments, reeling from the initial shock and the pain of the collision.

Here is the conversation that ensued:

"Oh, bugaboo, it got away from me!" Doug said, as he picked the box up and set it on top of the cart. Not, "I'm so sorry!" or "Are you okay?" or even "Are you pressing charges?"

Did that really just happen? What is he thinking? And did he just say bugaboo? Oklahomans are so strange sometimes.

"It's not that heavy, really," Doug said after the box was resting somewhat securely on the cart. "It's just hard to handle."

"So...it's not heavy, it's just awkward?" I said (according to me, that's what everybody says when they're lifting something that really is too heavy for them).

"Yeah, it's not heavy, just awkward," Doug repeated, unaware that I found the statement hilarious. I smiled, turned the cart around, looked at Eddie with wide eyes and a growing smile, and we rolled away with our obnoxiously large box on a small cart.

We burst into laughter once we were a safe distance from Macho Doug and his partner in crime. We were both in a bit of disbelief at what had just happened. I pushed my sleeve up to see a big red mark on my arm. I wondered if it would bruise.

We managed to get the table up the stairs to my apartment. Apparently it was easier to lift with two people than we thought. I take back my "it's not heavy, just awkward" statement. But I retain that Doug still should have had his buddy help him. We started to unpack the box and organize the parts.

Eddie had to leave for a meeting, so I set to work with 30+ pieces of an "easy to assemble" table laid out across my living room. 2 hours and a few four letter words later, I had assembled 1.5 chairs. I think Wal-Mart needs to take some assembly lessons from Ikea.

So here's to you, Wal-Mart, for your messy aisles, screaming children, macho associates and (I'll admit it) decently priced oak table sets.

[FYI, my arm is okay, just a little tender today.]

Shift Happens

2007-11-05T08:28:00.000-06:00

This stopped me dead in my tracks this morning. Recommends.

HT: [Chad]

We remember.

2007-10-31T08:32:00.000-05:00

Yesterday marked two years since our brother Kyle Lake, pastor of UBC in Waco, died. Although I did not know Kyle personally, the news of his death and the experience thereafter moved me and many others who'd never even met him. Shaun Groves writes more about it here and also posted a tribute video to Kyle. You can visit here to find out more about how you can support his legacy via the Kyle Lake Foundation. You can also learn more about Kyle's Film and view trailers here. I recommend it.

May God watch over the flock he left behind, and his family, his beautiful wife and their three young children.