Time to Stand

I stood alone in the kitchen, debating the cost. That frozen custard with my name on it? Yeah, it was pulling me hard with an invisible rope. Because what kind of girl would commit to 30 days of crazy-clean eating? Shouldn't an eighteen-year-old be enjoying life a little? These self-imposed fences: no sugar, dairy, grains, or legumes... I put them up, so it doesn't matter if I hop over them for a second, right? 

Except I had committed to this. Told friends, told family, that I was going to do this. My reasons are a story for a different day; the deal here is that I was literally ten seconds away from killing my commitment, seven days into it. After seven days of eggs and salads and sweet potatoes and simple healthy food, all I wanted was that frozen custard. I talked to God a bit, arguing with Him. He told me to go into the gorgeous sunshine and breathe. I said no, I want dessert. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall. Then I chose disobedience and took a step to the cupboard for a bowl. 

He will provide a way out.

Oh hey, what was that? Dad pulled up to the garage, and my brother strode towards the house. 

Why is it I always want to indulge in secret? Well, scratch that plan....

BAM! God shot a hole in the temptation. A hole just big enough for me to wriggle through. 

I actually breathed a thank-you as I turned away. It's crazy how sin makes us miserable, but sometimes we don't realize it until we're on the other side, hmm?

Friends, listen. No temptation has you in it's grip except what we all experience. And God? He's faithful. He won't let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. When you're tempted, He will provide a way out so you can stand up under it. You can count on that one, because well, it's God we're talking about here. 

Today, I almost collapsed under temptation. But God provided a way out just like He promised. And somehow, I stood up under it.

Folks, it's time to stand. You will face temptation today. It's gonna be hard, real hard. But God will provide a way out. Listen; today, it's time to stand. 

Getting My Wonder Back

I lost it.

Somewhere on this journey, laying forgotten on a battle scene or behind a pride-monument of something I've achieved...

My wonder disapeared.

I didn't know it was gone, just that life was a shade darker than it used to be. It took some subzero temperatures to shock me into seeing it was gone.

It happened last night as I was talking to God. He mentioned that I didn't have a desire to play in the snow this winter like I used to. Images of sparkling white, of hills flying under my plastic sled, and of red cheeks and noses flashed through my mind. It was true. This year I have stayed inside and shuddered at the thought of donning snow pants to face the cold. This year I wanted to be comfortable. I had my excuses lined up and ready to fire. 

 

Why don't you go for a walk outside?

It's ten degrees! Are you kidding me?

Child, it's ten degrees. Go, see what it's like! Listen to the snow squeak underfoot and taste the raw air.

 

Go make that phone call. 

Umm no. I'm comfy right here on the couch, thankyouverymuch. And remember how I hate talking on the phone?

What about doing hard things? You know you'll be ecstatic once you call her. 

Hey. Stop moping around and go do something on your to-do list.

But I'm bored. And I don't feel like doing anything - too much work.

What's that? Isn't action the cure for boredom? Stop idolizing your comfort level and do something worthwhile with your time. Find joy. It's more lasting than comfort, my child.

 

Well. My life sounds fulfilling.

Last night I decided to find my wonder again. I told God that today I would do something just for the wonder of it, like a little kid. 

Once I said yes to God, He didn't leave me struggling to follow through. A single crack of obedience released a flood of wonder-fullness. 

It started with the sunrise. Only this morning the sun did not rise. It shot upwards in a stream of wildfire gold. As if directing its light in a single beam toward heaven, the sun was crowned with a light saber of glory. As I watched, a pillar of fire seemed to rise among the barren trees to the east. Wonder hit me full in the face. It was back! 

 

But wonder didn't stick to the sunrise. It tore through the house, following a sunbeam to light up my breakfast bowl of fruit, crystallizing strawberries in glory. Wonder held my breath in my throat.

                                                    

I found it, guys. Today was brighter, calmer. I smiled for no apparent reasons. I talked to God more. It was a wonderful day.

A wonder-full day.

And you know what? I'm going to chase wonder again tomorrow. Join me, yes? Let's toss comfort aside and run head-long after this wonder. 

Like a kid, tearing downhill on a sled - eyes sparkling like the swirling snow.

Let's stop worrying about the cold and find wonder instead.

Reason vs. Wisdom, the Battle for Your Life

I stood at the dryer, folding my clothes. Dreaming. Cozy-warm shirts and socks matched the thoughts airing in my brain. High ambitions, wild ideas, and sweet hopes I couldn't put into words. 

Do you ever catch a couple voices arguing inside your head? Me too. This brain of mine is a battleground - voices parrying here and there, some defending, some attacking. And apparently whispering dreams are worthy of attack. Hey, hold on a sec, Reason countered my dreams. Before I chase mountain-top achievements and wild-eyed fancies I need to get my life under control. 

I nodded internally. Sounds legit.

No. 

A new voice flew by, chasing Reason down. 

I need to let Jesus have control of my life. And this newcomer tackled Reason with a bold twist of her own words. I'm pretty sure it was the Holy Spirit.

That, my friends, was World Reason vs. Wisdom - a classic battle.

I need to get my life under control became I need to let Jesus have control of my life.

This taking, this getting.... it clashes against the giving. The letting. 

Reason said I need to soldier through with my current tasks before I can chase whatever wild things I wish for my future. Reason said, learn to master your life; be in control of it. Then you will be strong enough and free enough to chase your dreams.

Wisdom said I need to surrender. I need to give up control and self defense, baring myself to the power of Christ. To obediently walk His path. Wisdom said, learn to loose your life. Then God's strength will carry you beyond your wildest dreams and into glory. Chase Christ. 

Remember my internal nod at the voice of reason? It's sad but true. World Reason sounds mighty becoming when it's the only force on the playing field. She sounds true - noble, even. 

And if the Holy Spirit and His Wisdom hadn't shown up, I probably would have followed reason. 

I'm a gullible girl, okay? And that's why it's vital for me to be saturated with the Word of God. His Word is where I find wisdom. His word sharpens my ears to His voice. His word is where I find nourishment so I don't gorge myself on empty world-junk-food.

His word is vital to me. 

Without it I pick up this life I've laid down and start hacking it around, chipping off corners and slicing into others. Without God's Word to show me how to lay down my life, I try to control it myself.

So, the Bible. And the Holy Spirit. And Wisdom. They're The Big Deal, guys. 

Chase them down for all you're worth. Lay down your life and chase Christ.

Because Christ? He. Is. Your. Life.

On the Edge | Conversation

Some of you may know that I work as a trail guide. I get to spend a whole hour with strangers on horseback in the middle of the woods. Most of the time these people respect me because I know more about horses and the trails we're taking than they do, so it's a perfect opportunity to have some good conversations. You know, about God and life and such. 

But they're strangers. 

And I'm terrified of talking to them, to tell you the truth. But. (deep breath...) Today I'm stepping out to the edge. I'm going to make a concerted effort to hand my fear to God and start a meaningful conversation with someone on a ride today. You can do this too! Even if you aren't on horseback, make a point of stepping beyond the small talk today and showing someone you love them by talking about things they need to hear. Ask them how you can pray for them, or tell them about what God has been teaching you lately. 

For some of you, this will be easier than it will be for me. But let's take a deep breath, step out, and make a difference today! 

*Update*
God completely blessed my socks off. You know how scared I was about this? Well, I prayed about it a bit, but I honestly didn't expect God to make it any easier than I imagined. But He's God, you know? He doesn't live in my expectations. 
I started talking to a girl behind me on a trail ride, wracking my brain to bring up something about God or church without sounding awkward. It wasn't working, so I ended up just chatting with her about the horses. She asked me if I knew the story behind any of the horse's names, so I told her about one story I knew. Then I remembered the ponies named Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. I mentioned them, but it took a second for my mind to adjust to the glaring opportunity staring me down. 
"Do you know the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego?" I asked, fully expecting her to know it. 
She didn't.
And then God convicted me and worked everything out at the same time.
See, I know the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. But not well enough to rattle off at a moment's notice. So God convicted me to learn that story well, as a tool in future conversations. 
But He worked everything out anyway.
When I mentioned that the story was in the Bible, the girl told me that she was actually reading through the Bible! This led to a conversation about her Wednesday night church group and about the Bible. 

God showed up, guys.

He showed up when I was terrified but when I stepped out in faith anyway. 

That. was. awesome.

This Thing Called Grace

"Are you sure you don't want me to press that piece?" 

She asked it like she was desperate to iron out the wrinkles in this life. To smooth the valleys and mountains and make time run silky-straight. 

Grandma has had lots of hills in her lifetime, I think. 

I handed her the fabric with a smile and a shake of my head. 

I guess we young ones don't understand what it's like to have a mess of wrinkles behind us. 

I don't feel the pain of each jarring bump like my grandma does.

She sure could use a good blanket of grace to wrap herself close in.

Because where she comes from, God lives at church and a Bible is a book and grace might be a dancer as easily as forgiveness. 

That life has been awful bumpy. 

And it makes my heart hurt when she frets about being a pain to us and she wishes she didn't cause so much trouble.

So I stretch out my grace blanket, try to pad some of her pain.

"Grandma, we love you. We want to do things for you because we love you." 

And she feels this grace touching soft and her face goes happy sweet.

She brings back the fabric, crisp smooth and warm, and I'm thinking about how a wrinkle doesn't make a dress bad.

But maybe she doesn't see that a dress is a dress no matter how creased. That this dress will get folded and wrinkled and dirty and worn but will remain whole and loved in the eyes of it's owner. 

Life can be like that sometimes. 

No matter how hilly or wrinkled it is, life is still life. 

And we can choose to see it with the padding of grace as a beautiful masterpiece to be loved and worn out. 

Or we can see it as something that needs to be fixed - this life that keeps growing mountains and folds no matter how hard we press our troubles away. 

For some people, each bump just hurts to much to see the beauty of this thing called a life. 

But there is hope. It's called grace. 

And it doesn't numb the pain but it gives a new perspective and a new heart to this life. 

Today I'm choosing grace. You too? I'm glad. This journey is a whole lot sweeter wrapped in His arms.

(tutorial coming soon on little dresses for Africa - my new favorite project with a purpose!) 

On the Edge | Hope in a Bag

Many times I feel like I should be doing something "worthwhile" with my life. You know, feeding starving children on the streets or starting a bakery that sold only products made with fair trade ingredients. 

In my heart I know these are noble things and that they would be powerful tools to grow God's kingdom. 

But I also know they aren't realistic for me. Right now. 

And that makes me feel a bit guilty and un-motivated as I step glibly through my little life, sitting for hours reading or spending my time and sweat on an awesome workout. 

But what if I could do something worthwhile with my life? Not that reading or working out or having fun or holding down a job aren't worthwhile; on the contrary, the Bible says that everything - eating, drinking, talking, working - should be done to the glory of God. And I believe that God works mightily through everyday moments. 

But somewhere inside I have a desire to do something more. To not only live these everyday moments for Christ, but to also stretch my little life and step closer to the edge. Where I can see the view of God's power sweeping over the earth. 

And I believe that God has given me opportunities to do just that. I just need to take a step forward and take them!

The first opportunity I've decided to grab onto is "Hope in a bag." It addresses the problem of homeless or begging people who are needy for food, items for everyday life, and - most of all - Jesus. This project takes all these things and packages them in a ziplock, ready to change a person's life at a moment's notice. 

There are tons of options to stock your bag with, but here are some ideas. This is not an extensive list! Just think about what you'd need if you suddenly found yourself out of a home, job or food... mostly it's cheap, everyday things I already have around my house. 

Grab a gallon ziplock bag and pick about ten of the following: (you're stepping forward with me, right?)

• Bar soap
• Small stick deodorant
• Hand warmers 
• Pen
• Small pad of paper
• Comb
• Pair of new socks 
• Toothpaste
• Toothbrush
• Small pack of tissues
• Chapstick 
• Granola bars
• Trail mix 
• Nuts/seeds 
• Bottle of water
• Small Bible/New Testament

Use your imagination - I bet you won't even have to step outside your house to fill a gallon bag! You will need to devote some prayer and thought into the most important item in that bag, though. Write a short note that offers encouragement and an invitation to accept God's love and salvation, and stick it in there. 

Hope in a Bag is meant too be kept in your car, and whenever you pass a homeless person or someone who is begging, you will have something powerful to give to them. 
Because I believe there is power in that note you wrote. 
I believe that God honors even the little ways we shine with His love.
Congratulations, you have just stepped with me onto the edge... where we'll be stretched and vulnerable... but where the view of God's power is so, so worth it!

Because I Forget

I've been learning to remind myself lately. To remind myself of God's goodness, of my reliance on Him, and to remind myself that this life is just a passing breath - my one chance to let Christ change eternity through me.

I've realized that I don't have time to forget. 

I don't have time to learn and relearn - then relearn again - every lesson God teaches. 

So. 

I need to remember them. I need to remember the truths that help my heart to beat in tune with the Spirit.

I'm stumbling through this, guys. So far I've tripped and fell upon two ways to remember. 

I write myself notes on my hand some mornings, notes from scripture - life words inked dark on my hand. It reminds me twofold: because sometimes I need to forget what others think. I need to forget fitting in and remember that Christ didn't go with the flow. To me, that scripture-scrawl is worth a curious glance or two. Those words from the Jesus book can change my day because living words on my hand spread to my mind and heart. 

The second thing I do to remind myself is to make signs to put up on my bedroom walls. These signs are quotes, Bible verses, and thought provoking messages. This way I am literally surrounded with encouraging and challenging messages. Here are a few of my favorites:

Reminding me who He is and who that makes me:

Reminding me to surrender everything I am to Christ:

On my mirror to remind me that true beauty isn't what's on the outside:

How do you remind yourself of God's truth?

Strong in Grace

Paul's words caught me, tugged at my heart this afternoon as pages fell open to 2 Timothy 2:1. 

You then, my son, be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus. 

How many times have I judged someone's strength by their outward appearances, or the witty replies of their minds? 

How many times have strong ones crumbled, fragile as dust, behind doors slammed shut or feet pounding away? How many times have the strong ones felt weak standing against comparison's dark army? How many times have I thought myself strong for scaling a hill only to find a sheer rocky cliff awaiting me?

So the strong ones are weak, and I wonder how I can be strong. But the strong I need, deep down inside, is not the strong of this world, but a Jesus-type strong. 

And the Jesus-type strong is grace. 

Years ago my ballet teacher told of feathery light movements, steps so soft and effortless looking - grace embodied. Peel back the feathers, she said, and underneath there is always strength hard as iron. Because grace is strong, and strength is shown by grace. 

The strongest kind of strong is always and only embodied like Jesus, grace Himself. 

Strong touched the lepers. Strong spoke with and loved sinners of the worst kind. Strong endured physical pain and torture without calling down vengeance from heaven. Strong hung dying a criminal's death and said, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." 

Strong was grace. 

But the strongest kind of strong - this strong in grace? To the world it looks like weakness. Why are ballet dancers often portrayed as frilly, wimpy girls twirling and standing on their tippy-toes? Why are grace, vulnerability, and forgiveness thought of as qualities of a weakling? 

The answer is simple, spoken by Jesus himself: "If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you." 

So to become truly strong - in grace - I must choose to disregard the voice of the world, of those who are strong without grace. And I'm making that choice again today, to shine strong on the inside by grace on the outside, touching the lepers in my life, loving the sinners, hanging forgiving when others do me wrong. Today I'm choosing to be strong in grace. 

How about you? 

Just One Thing

Guys. I have to share this! Yesterday I learned something new... that Jesus actually wasn't in a hurry. Let me say that again: Jesus wasn't in a hurry. Mind. Blown. 

He had just three years to complete His ministry, yet the Bible never mentions His schedule. This God-in-flesh had the power to cure everyone of disease, yet He did not. He did virtually nothing the world expected of Him. What's up with that? 

I think I know. Tell me if I'm wrong, but I think it's because Jesus was about His Father's business. Period. Jesus, He was never in a hurry, never flustered, because God never asked Him to multitask. Just love, God said. Just love. So Jesus loved. 

And sometimes loving means caring enough about others to not care about yourself, your schedule. 

Sometimes loving means healing just a few hearts, a few souls, instead of all the bodies in the world. 

Sometimes love, it means seeing the world with eternity eyes and digging for deeper treasure than the mere expectations of this world. 

Jesus had a higher calling, a different voice to follow. His Father, our Father, He said just love. Jesus' life was infinitely simple. He had one calling. And He choose to listen to just that voice. And He obeyed. Jesus, He loved His life away. Simple as 1,2,3. Called, listened, obeyed. Jesus, He did everything on this earth, made a whole world of difference, by not doing everything.

Boy do I need to learn that lesson! My life would be free, daring, peaceful, mind-blowing, joyous, and unexpected if I listened to my Father's voice and obeyed. My life, it would be just like Jesus'. 

What would your life look like if you tuned your ear to the Father's calling, to just love? Can you imagine the freedom of giving schedules and agendas to the Father who crafted time? 

My life desperately needs this tune-up, this tuning in to the Father's whisper. Just love. Forget appearances, forget status, forget everything I want to do. To just love. It's so simple, my friends. Will you join me? Please? And just because, I'm throwing out this picture of our crazy puppy. Just because she has a heart on her back. You'll have to spin your head around to see it, 'cause it's upside down, but I had to show you all. :)

I know God put that heart there on purpose. Probably because He loved, and Jesus loved, and He wants us to do this one thing. Just love.

P.S. Would you all kindly take the little poll on the left sidebar? I want to know what you all wish to hear more about either on this blog or maybe even in person (for a few of you :D)!

Operation Skittles

I've had an idea rolling around in my head a lot lately. It's an idea of community. Of encouragement. Of accountability. Of the body of Christ. 

In a few words, it's Operation Skittles. Before you label me as crazy, let me remind you that girls can get rather nonsensical at times. And I'm a girl. With girlfriends. So when three of us girls got together and started an unofficial accountability club, it was out of the question to christen it something normal. If you get my drift. ;) 

So my two best friends and I did something totally abnormal, maybe even absurd, for three teenagers. We got together to talk about our God lives. I was thrilled to know that I had two sisters in Christ who cared enough about each other to just randomly come over and let down their comfort bumpers, to 'fess up, and to get real about our daily temptations. 

I don't know how long we talked, outside on the white glider swing. One by one we cracked open the doors to our hearts and let each other in. Because sometimes, friends, our hearts get sick and heavy feeling. Sometimes the best way to loose the chains is to share our burdens, like it says in God's word.  So I listened. To temptations and sins and battles and uncertainties. And I hugged, eyes welling full of the hurt one was feeling. And I talked, like the others, sharing my burdens too. God seemed so real in those moments, because I felt Him in the miracle of troubles shared and evaporated. My heart grew light, filled with bubbling joy, peace, and trust. Cracking open our hearts let the trouble fade with sharing. Cracking open our hearts let in God's light. Then, with smiling hearts,we laughed, and imagined, and fantasized... about what our futures will hold. 

When the shade finally turned cool, we repaired to my room where we wrote our daily temptations down, each keeping the struggles of the others. That hurt, a bit. Letting others in on the sins I battle daily, and giving them permission to ask about them later... that stings at first. Because I know I won't always have a good report. Those sins they wrote down to remember are my weakest areas. But you know what? In order to heal a wound you need to clean it first. And that hurts. In the end, though, it's always worth it... the discomfort is always overruled by the healing it brings. 

So I'm hoping with a strange hope that my girlfriends stay true to Operation Skittles - that they keep me accountable, out in the open. Because I know that it will bring healing and make me stronger in the end. So I'm praying that the girls bring on the interrogations next time we meet! 

I want to challenge every one of you to get excited about Jesus, about the body of Christ, and about accountability. How to get excited, you ask? Make another Operation Skittles! 

I hereby challenge you to connect with one or two Christians you are close to. Talk on the phone, face to face, or by email. Let your secret fears out. Push past the comfort zone and find the growing zone. Tell each other your struggles and temptations. Write them down and keep each other accountable! And give it a name! Operation M&M, maybe? Or Operation Gummy Bears? Oreos? Name it something sweet to reflect the reward it will bring!

What name did you choose? How will you connect with your Christian Cohorts? 

I'd love follow ups, too - were you able to open up, and how did it feel? 

Letting Go of Grumpy

So it's been brought to my attention that I have been growing grumpy. Instead of blooming joy, Satan saw a loophole worn thin by work, work, work and sewed seeds of silent straight faces. Seeds that grew big and mean.

Mom told me, finally, right out front. Boy, I'm glad she did. Told me, whisper-like, I was getting grumpy - so go outside. 

Go outside, she said, and let it go. Let pumpkin pies and school work high, let them go. God is fully capable of catching them, you see, when all along he has been begging me to let go of the life I surrendered long ago to his capable hands. 

Stop grabbing it back, He whispers. 

Time and time again. 

So I'm letting go, of grumpy today, and opening my hands to free-falling joy raining from His throne. 

'Cause when hands are clenched, I've learned, joy can't pour in. It's only when we open, that sparkling joy is ours. 

I'm heading outside, now, to let go some more, inviting you to do the same. 

Dear, don't hold on to that grumpy life. Just go outside and let it go. Open up your tight clenched hands and receive joy overflowing. 

And now for some random pictures I took while I was outside, to maybe assist you in cracking open that gorgeous smile of yours!

How's life going for you guys? Any grumpy-type days that got turned around like mine did today?

P.S. I'm getting braces for the second time tomorrow - surprise! Just on my top teeth, though, and only for about 6 months to fix a slight problem. Just found out today, actually. :P 

Lemons

    So, folks. Life. And lemons. But mostly life. It happens to all of us, and it's happening to me right now. The lemons part, I mean.

When summer is faded and frantic I try to make more of family evenings and every sunrise...

When I'm dragged always down by temptations I bow to, then straining ahead towards the goal is fogged by guilt from the enemy...

When school turns scary next Monday and I host a tug of war for brains vs. ease to play...

(Those are flashcards, btw. sigh.)

    When little sisters ask patient, if I'm "doing my b'og" and this blog-love of mine turns all goopy and mucky, skeeter filled and humid. It's a blog, not a bog, my mind whisper says, and I tug a foot out of sucking, thirsty mud. My foot escapes, but boots must be tasty, or juicy, or something. I teeter, a one-booted crane, then topple and fall.  Sometimes, sometimes one step forward doesn't put me three steps behind. In my life, a step can leave me floundering, right where I am, covered with filth, mud-tied to the ground. If you dissected my mind-body right then and there, you would find a lemon or two rolling around in my head.

    Sometimes God gives me lemonade, ready-made when I write. He pours His words into my awe-struck mind, and when I read His words, taste the sweetness, the lemonade gives me chills. 

    But ready-made is meant for ease, for enjoyment, not growth. Ready-made is too effortless, too sweet for a girl growing strong. So this week when I found a pile of lemons rolling around in my brain, it was hard. This week words didn't flow easy-sweet, and I puckered up inside. Two tries, no lemonade. 

   

   The first time I tried to write all I got was four sentences and a presiding sense of melancholy. (Seriously, friends, it was basically my word of the day. Ask 'lil sis.) Trial número dos remained stuck somewhere between the truth and a lie, words that came from my mind but got mushed up so's I didn't know if I agreed with them on a page. Confusion, basically. 

    I tried, you see. I tried to whip up some ready-made. Twice I tried. 

But those tries, they were a knock off of what I longed for, God's ready-made. Two batches poured down the drain.

    Then God tapped my shoulder and soft smiled at me said, Ariel, blogs turn to bogs if what you write isn't what you are, what I've made you, put inside you. I'll give you words, but they may be small, yellow and sour. Ready-made isn't for growing strong girls. Here, have a lemon. Fresh-squeezed is refreshing - hard work, but refreshing.  So I wiped off my pucker and stammered out words of life, of lemons, of blogs and of bogs. And He made it lemonade. 

    Hard squeezed is different than ready-made, yes? Well, it felt different, to squeeze instead of pour. But now I'm stronger, after squeezing out my life, real, sour life out into the open. And now I know when ready-made is too sweet for my growth, I've got to swallow my pucker and squeeze out words of life, real and sour as it may be.

    Sometimes sweet doesn't cut it. Be real, girls. Use your lemons, sour as they may be, and trust God to do the magic making, the transformation to lemonade. If He gives you lemons, it's likely that He's fixing to make you stronger. Take on those hard things in God's power. Brace yourself and fight temptations in Jesus' name because your life, life to the fullest, depends on it. 

    Lord, just keep the lemons rolling in! This was the most awkward post I've put my hand to, but I know you've got a reason. Lemons. Wow. Boy would I have laughed if someone had told me the next post would be about them! So awkward. :P 

    So, girls, have you had an experience like this? When you totally let down your hair (that means you were completely real, not caring what others thought) and experienced God's power to transform?

    Lemons. Where to next, Lord?!?!

Sand and Surrender

    One of the best things, the best of all the fantastic times I had at family camp last week, had to be when we threw rocks into the lake. It's really quite hard to describe the spiritual brevity and freedom of those moments, but I'll try my hardest to make your heart understand.

    We'd just listened to a sermon. It was a fine sermon, like all the ones I digested last week, but the fact is that often I have trouble getting any solid nutrition out of sermons. I nearly always feel convicted, encouraged, inspired, or all of them together during any teaching on God's word. But then the speaker steps off the stage and the information and inspiration slip quietly out of my mind and heart. 

    This night, this sermon, was just tip-toeing out of my heart as we trailed out of the youth chapel and followed our leaders to the water's quietly lapping edge. My mind was just going with the groove I'd worn, doing it's job and "moving on" to "normal" thoughts. 

    We sat down, shoeless, on colorful beach chairs in two rows on the beach. 

The sand hugged our feet as Dutch (camp names, you know) picked up the already fading lesson we thought had been dropped forever by Ambush five minutes before. Ambush had talked living real, sold out for God. He showed us his testimony, about how he had lived as a "Christian" for so long before he truly knew the God he knew so much about. 

    As he started talking, Dutch pulled the retreating sermon back into view in my mind. It was that to live real a body's got to get rid of the fake junk inside. Jesus cleanses, we knew, but fake junk has a way of imprinting in the human mind, reappearing time and time again. And it's hard to live real when fake has a home in your heart. 

    So Dutch's words were Jesus's words, that sometimes we need to clean house. Sometimes our hearts need a deep cleaning job. And sometimes in order to make it a true deep cleaning job it's got to be from the inside out. So outside, Dutch said, we could wash our feet, our hands, our face. Symbolism, it's called; this mirror of the inside and out. 

    Dutch showed us another mirror, of sins thrown as far as the east is from the west, into the sea and never to be seen again. Rocks with sharpie words mirrored sins, and the lake shimmered forgotten and forgiven. Dutch said we could hurl them, our sins into the lake. Never to be seen again. Then Dutch stepped away and a huge awkward monster of silent fear took precedence. Who wanted to go first, to openly wash of our sins or make a splash of hurling them into the waters? No one, of course. 

    Finally, boldness showed up in the form of a 13 year old boy, asking "where are the rocks - I'm gonna need a lot!" The awkward  monster slunk glowering away, as boldness multiplied. But me, I sat smugly still as one by one others stood in obedience. Honestly, my mind was blank for a while of sins I could write on rocks, but I knew God was doing something when I looked down and saw my bracelet - surrender - and felt an undeniable twinge. 

Seconds passed, and sand shuffled under feet and rocks plunked quietly, calling. The words came, of course. Pride. And Selfishness.

    I gathered myself in a deep breath, then stood and moved with obedience, head bowed like all the others. Two stones plunking wasn't as satisfying as the freedom of sitting back down, head up and with a heart so full I could hardly smile. My heart welled up, liquid, almost, as I watched obedience shuffle and plunk and splash and cleanse. 

    I've never seen a group of teenagers so quietly respectful, so humble, with their heads so lost in Jesus-clouds. 

    That night is something I won't soon forget. Ambush's message made a lasting crater in my heart because I acted on it. I never would have thrown pride and selfishness into the abyss of forgiven and forgotten past if Dutch hadn't snagged Ambush's message on its way out of my mind. And we never would have obeyed if one brave soul hadn't asked where are the rocks? And I never would have shuffled sand, head down, if the Holy Spirit hadn't moved surrender from my arm to my heart. But that night had Jesus written all over it. So it all fell into place, and now my bracelet is more precious to me than when I paid $5.00 for it. That bracelet has Jesus written all over it. 

    Some of you girls reading this were there with me. Did it make a different impact on you? 

    If you weren't there, have you ever had a similar experience?

Love and some muffins

    Monday nights our little Summer-girl comes, for laughter and doggies, and garden muck boots. I gain another sister, just on Monday nights, the little girl we need to even out the three sons and two daughters. And just on Monday nights, our Summer-girl has big sisters and brothers to drag laughing around. On Monday nights we have a chance to love.

   But Monday, Mondays don't give love. Sometimes on Mondays and Tuesdays and Wednesdays, on all days love isn't free for the feeling. Some days love isn't free for the feeling, but we do have a free mind and can choose to be love. Because love is a choice, an action, a verb. A choice to take life or give it, to drain wells or to overflow. But giving life is hard. Overflowing hurts, sometimes. Why? Because giving is taking - from ourselves. Overflowing flows over with what used to be ours. Being love - giving life - costs something.

    The currency of love is a funny thing. God gives it unconditionally, everlastingly, yet for us to pour out what He gave us to give, it costs us in this world. In order to love, we hand over time and energy, money and security. But love, it multiplies when given. Love boomerangs back with peace and joy when it flows over. The giver of love pays in fleeting comforts of this world, yet gains from an eternal point of view.

    Time was mine, on Monday night. I owned plans, and treating myself to a good long chill-time loomed in my sights. But Mom reminded me of love, asked me to give time and plans to be love - to give life.

    See, I love baking, and a certain banana butterfinger muffin recipe looked like a perfect prospect of gold, Monday night. But Summer-girl needed a sister. Summer-girl, unknowing, asked for love. Being love has a million different caps it wears, and Monday night it wore a bright pink feathered one called making muffins with a four year old.

    Once I'd committed to love, it just kept flowing and I carried on, surprised at the lightness in my smiling heart. It was easy to get lost in the flow of love, to find fun where I expected frustration. Love just works that way, sometimes. Love, it's patient. Love is kind.

Love does not envy. It does not boast.

Love is not proud. Love is not rude.

Love is not self-seeking, and it's not easily angered. 

Love keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but it rejoices in the truth.

And most of all, love never fails. 

Love never fails to cost something from this world. 

Love never fails to flow over it's giver with eternal reward.

Love, it never fails.