...

it's funny how a few words can bring you back to memories you tired to forget. It's funny how a picture can bring back emotions you thought you left behind. I still have a soft heart toward you. it's funny, another word for alone is...well...you know the rest.

I HAVE A GOAL

I have a goal to be the most organized for this classic than I have EVER been before. I have a goal to surprise myself and get'er done way before , so that ... the week of and the days of i am not stressed. that is my goal. a stress free classic. i dont know if thats even possible... but.... here's hoping.

i've got good family

i've got good family. good good family. im not so much talking about my blood related family, though they're good too. im talking about the 30 minute calls from grandma ruth, and the random coffees with kate because she was thinking and praying about me. im talking about the kind words in the office when i needed a little encouragement but didn't have the courage to ask. im talking about my family. the people who seemed to be able to read what im not saying, and communicate what i need but fail to request. sometimes i don't like how we do things here. but i do like who we do them with. i've got good family.

somewhere over the rainbow

sometimes i think about the fact that you are somewhere, doing something, and i dont even know it. you have some job i dont know about, and drive some car that i've never seen. maybe you go to some church that i've never been to and have some friends that i've never met and laugh at some jokes i've never heard. all i do know is that you are. somewhere, you are. and every day of not knowing brings me one day closer to knowing. and thats what gets me by. that one day you'll be at some job that i know about, and have friends that im friends with and laugh at things that i get. but probably we'll still drive my car. im just saying....

im in quarantine

I'm 22. I've lived in this house all my life. about 3 years ago we got new neighbors. It took them 2 years to realize that I lived in this house too. I "live" here, but really, what that means is that my stuff is here and I sleep here. Sometimes, if im lucky. I eat here. I try to anyways, cause it's cheeper that way. I'm not really at home that often. but>> For the next week, I will be at home. I will not go out. I will not see ppl. I will be here. In my house. Here's why.

I think im in love....

Just me and you and the open road.

here's hoping....

Probably that one.

COMPENSATION

in other news.... because of the previously stated "release" on my finances.... I think I shall buy myself a car. Yes, yes I shall. That makes me feel better already :P

tomorrow is a new day...

What's next? The closing of the door means the opening of a new one. When I was younger, I remember saying to myself that my greatest fear would be waking up every day doing something that was not in the will of God. Next is whatever is in your will.

Is is done? Nope. I don't think so. My hopes got a little crushed. I cried a few tears, but I'm ok. I have a lot of questions. Ones that, in due time, I think He will answer.

I love Fiji. I can't get it out of my heart. God put it there. We will meet again. My face will feel your sun, and my feet will walk your shores. I will love your people, eat your food and speak your language. You are so precious to me. The memories I have of you are so fond, and I cherish them. They play over in my mind, sort of like an old film at a family get together, where we laugh again at the things that made us laugh once, cry again with the things that broke our hearts once, and rejoice again with the things that made us rejoice once. I rejoice over you, Fiji.

Thank You for tomorrow. And thank You for when the time will come. I don't understand the delay, but I will trust in You.

"Just shut up, will you?"

I find it so easy to get wrapped up in "what I do" It's so easy to let JH become my life. Become who I am. Become my identity. Ministry should never be the essence of who we are, only a reflection of who we are. You'll tell it by the fruit. I think I'm on a journey of sorts. Rediscovering who I am in Christ, once all the facade of ministry is gone. Even worship is easy to hide behind when you don't want to deal with what's really going on inside. How many times have I missed it? How many times have I sang just loud enough to drown out my own thoughts, and any possibility of hearing His voice. "Shhhhh" is what I hear the Father saying. Or perhaps in a less correct sort of way... "Just shut up, will you?"

and so I think I enter... the quiet season. A season of redefining identify. A season of new revelation. Fresh bread and new wine. A still season, without much stirring. I'm not sure as I know what all that means, but I have a feeling I'm about to find out.

nigahiga on youtube...

i can't figure out what is worse. people who vlog or people who follow people who vlog..... who is the bigger waster of time.... ??

about a boy

Some words I was reminded of this morning...

"I don't wanna miss out on the promises of God because I was impatient. I believe in the process of God. I have to. Cause somedays, I get lonely and I wish that he, whoever he is- was here. But I am believing for great things from my Father, who has bigger things than I can even imagine... I'm excited about the process."
-TFS Girls Workshop 2009

This is me, being honest.

You know, sometimes I wanna quit. ok, more than sometimes. Often. Often I want to quit. Often I want to throw in the towel, call it a day and go home. Often I want to give up. More than often. Almost daily.

Every week goes the same. The days coming up to wednesday consist of me wondering what in the world I should do. Almost frantically, I prepare what little I feel I know, and then wednesday comes. I wake up. I stay in bed a little longer than I should, wondering if I didn't get out, would any notice? of course they would, and I'd be in trouble for it. i don't really have an option.

So I get up. Again. And like every week before that, I wonder why I do this? Why I put myself through it all. Why. Why. Why shouldn't I leave? It's this all worth it? No one ever said that carrying vision would be easy. I've never been promised that. I know what He's called me to do, but what was once conviction is taking some convincing.

Then I put my plan into action, the one I made up frantically in the past few days, and hours leading up to this. The kids come in. It's go time. Not performace time, but pour out time. Time to give it all we got, even though sometimes I don't feel like I got all that much to give, and thats when it happens. A kid tells me something important.They let go and raise their hands when they sing. Holy Spirit whispers a word to give to one of them in worship. I see them understanding the Word more. I hold a broken kid as they cry. They come up to me after and ask me to pray for them for something. Whatever it is, I get lost in it and somewhere inbetween the caos of it all I forget. I forget that only hours before I contemplated walking out. Giving up. Finding a "real job". I forget and my heart turns soft and I love what I do. Every week, on wednesdays about 9:00, I smile. I think, "I am where I am supposed to be. This, for now, is right."

Then I go home to sleep. I sleep well those nights. Rested and satisfied. But then I wake up and it's thursday-and already I think - "shoot... it's almost Wednesday!" and we start all over again.

Byran

When he talked, his eyes smiled. He was nothing that I thought he'd be. I thought he would be socially awkward because he'd been living in the mountain bush for more than 15 years. I thought at least he would have had poor conversational skills. He looked young, and spoke like he knew allot. He did know allot. He told us of his guinea pigs they are raising in the house they built, and about the rabbit they rescued from life sentence in a demeaningly small cage. Once, about a year ago, september he encountered a cougar. He said that because he had seen the cougar before the cougar had seen him, that he had the upper hand. I thought that sounded heroic, to have the upper hand on a cougar. Byran taught me that with a cat, it's all about the stare down. If you look away first, it either means that you are submitting or that you are weak. Byran told me that he won the stare down, which made him seem heroic. After that I wasn't sure if I should look him in the eye when he talked to me, or not.

the set up

i shouldn't post this kind of stuff....

My life is CSI

I made this vlog a while back and forgot to post it. now i did. there.

Spring

fruition: this is the coming season. a season of fruit. I have faith for it.

fruition:
–noun
1. attainment of anything desired; realization; accomplishment: After years of hard work she finally brought her idea to full fruition.
2. enjoyment, as of something attained or realized.
3. state of bearing fruit.

a short story.

I started this story a long time ago, and was never satisfied with the ending. anyways. i think i hashed it out and got what i was going for.... so...

Once Upon a Time...

Even the sweetest song ever written or ever heard could not compare to the song that played over and over again in her heart. A simple tune that only the wind knew the words to and yet with every graceful step she took, the melody seemed to leak out. The glisten in her eye and the warmth of her smile told of her beauty. Words were never needed to know that this one was no ordinary girl. This one was particularity special and I believe He was especially fond of her.

Outdoors were a sanctuary of sorts for her. Ever changing and ever telling a new story with new growth and new sights. She found such joy in the simple things. She seemed to see Him there. In a flower or in a leaf, in a rainstorm or the thunder. Anything worthy of awe or wonder sent her heart leaping towards Him. She came closest to Him outside, where life, growing life, untainted by human hands gave a place for worship. No bells or whistles, just beauty in the things He made. These were the things she found joy in. It's where she found Him.

Warmth seemed to enter into her when she was there. A certain sense, or a knowing that He was near. Soon, she began to whisper to Him, in the beauty of His handiwork. Gently, she would tell of how she adored Him. How she adored the warmth she felt inside when there, in her untainted sanctuary. Slowly, her whisper grew to a soft voice, which grew to something slightly stronger until one day, she found herself laughing with Him in the garden.

"I'll never leave you, you know." He spoke tenderly in her ear. She didn't respond. She just sat there wide eyed, lost in His gaze. Her heart so full of love, she couldn't find the words. He felt the need to repeat Himself. "Never. I will never leave you" Still she sat there in silence. His strong hand made its ways to her shoulder. "I will never leave you." She nodded and smiled sweetly, not thinking much of the sincerity in his voice.

Spring would change to summer, and summers greens turned to autumns auburns and yellows. She loved all the colors. It was her first time experiencing fall. But then something strange happened. The leaves began to fall and as they did she felt it in her heart. It hurt. Like something inside her was falling to the ground as well. All the green faded from it. Only autumn were colors left now. All the life of spring and summers lush greens was gone.

She still felt Him there. His embrace was full of warmth. Their walks were what made her day seem worth living. He was all she had. Yet the cold weather seemed to bring a chill to her bones, and slowly, a numbness to her heart. His embrace became less warm, and His voice that used to dance around her seemed carried off by the wind.

Still she would go there. She'd gaze at the barren trees and think about the life that used to hang from it's branches. Softly she would whisper under her breath, "where is all the life? how come it's so empty here?" and her heart would sink a little lower in her chest. She wandered almost aimlessly around the garden. "Why is it so empty here?" she questioned again. She reached up and gabbed a branch from a tree. It was brittle and hard. She broke it in two leaving it on the ground. Her whisper grew a little louder as she questioned once more. " Why is it so empty here!?" Angrily she kicked a pile of leaves that sat near by. Tears began to well in her eyes. She looked up as if to yell at the wind. "Where did You go??"

Silence followed her question as the tears freely flowed, and the sobbing seemed to come naturally. She sat there, in a pile of leaves, dreading the cold, and dreading the emptiness she felt there. She wanted it back. She wanted the warmth. She wanted the laughter. She wanted the embrace, yet this vast emptiness in her consumed her as if there was no way out. As if tomorrow would never come, and today would be winter forever.

She could feel the hurt like anger in her throat, as if a fist was stuck there. The wind began to pick up, pushing hard against her tired cold body. Slowly she rose to her feet. Defeated once again, she began her journey home. As she walked, the wind seemed to circle around her, and as it did, she was reminded of the kind words He once had spoken to her. "Never. I will never leave you." She shook her head, knowing it was just her imagination. "Never", came the thought again. She brushed it off again, but the thought came back over and over in her head. "Never, never, never."

The cold wind grew warmer and seemed to kiss her face. Through blurred vision, something caught her eye. A welcomed ray of light shone through the naked trees, casting light on the gardens floor. Her heart leapt. She saw there, in the grass, a single small white flower with a yellow brushed center.

Kneeling beside it, she softly ran her fingers over it's precious pedals. "I told you I would never leave you." The gentle voice brought with it a warmth that slowly filled her desolate heart. She opened her mouth to try to speak, yet felt hushed by the presence of Him who was with her. Inside, her emotions raged with questions of the abandonment, yet the peace that came with Him overwhelmed her.

Before she even uttered a word, He began to speak to these deep secrets of her heart. "I was here all along." He ushered her to walk with Him. They began to stroll in the garden. Plucking a fresh green leaf off a tree, He placed it in her hand. She clenched her fingers around it. "I thought all the leaves here were dead" As they continued walking, she began to notice more and more green life around her. Yet the question nagged. Where had He been?

Knowing her thoughts, He spoke gently to her tender heart. "I was here all along. You have been looking for me in the open. You have been looking at what is seen. I was here. I was deep inside preparing the trees to grow new leaves again. Readying the grass to become green once more and teaching the birds the new song of spring. I never left you, just like I promised."

"But I never felt you, where were you?" He smile an assuring smile and gently placed His strong hand on her chest. "I have been deep inside, working away at your heart. I have been preparing you to bear new fruit in this next season. I have been making you ready for spring, and have been protecting you from the harsh conditions of winter. I didn't leave. No, I have been closer in this season than any other. I know winter is hard, but it always comes before spring. Trial proceeds advancement. Pruning proceeds growth."

Understanding swept over her, and after a moment, the joyous feeling she had felt so many times slowly returned- yet this time it felt different, as if a deeper part of her heart was being touched. Tears ran gently down her face, but not tears of sorrow, these were tears of joy.

random thoughts about Christian book stores...

the christian bookstore frustrates me. it smells and feels like ....uptight. like religion. it looks like white doilies should be under everything. it has such an uncomfortable "perfection" feel.

I go in not knowing what i want. maybe that's my problem. maybe i need to know. i seem to get overwhelmed with all the books i haven't, but wish that i had read. can there really be that much to say that ppl write all these books? i dunno. oh and pet peeve. christian books with a big pic of the author on the front. for real? not a big fan.

anyways....

heart vs head

Im not exactly sure what happened, but somewhere between when I was young, and now - my Dad changed.

I'm going through a bunch of stuff right now. God's teaching me, and stripping me- and though it's good, it's not necessarily the greatest time. We are transitioning from head to heart. I think that i think too much. I've got alot of stuff going on in my head. Details, logistics, constraint. All the Father is asking for is for heart. I see this modeled clearly in my dad. He's got no need for head. and I say that not in a demeaning way. He runs no ministry, speaks no lectures, directs no groups. He has no followers, no flock to feed. It's just him. Well, him and Jesus. And he's all heart.

His mornings start bible reading. It has for a few years now. From time to time, God would being to give him words. So he'd write it down, always with the response "this is so cool" knowing he could never write something like that. English was not his strong point in school, by any means. Writing did not come naturally to my dad. Yet time and time again, as he met faithfully with the Father, words continue to pour from the throne room on to the pages before him. Now pages are filled daily.

As I lead my life, I run around like a chicken with it's head cut off. Often times, I run into him (usually while im trying to get something done), and often those times the Lord is working on him and he's got some sort of word that he wants to tell me about. I'm busy, you know. (too much head) . But when I take the time to sit and listen, out pours this honestly like you have never heard. Often times, these writing relate to me or one of my brothers in our childhood days. Often they're about his family life growing up, or some other memory of times gone past. And when he speaks, I learn. Not about the lessons he has is his words, though they are good. No, I learn about heart, cause my dad is all heart. Often times our chats are cut short as I see the lump in his throat and his attempt to hold back tears. So moved by the memories and the lessons the Lord is teaching him. He's not a prophet, but I have much to learn from him. So genuine. So much heart.