The Muted Nectarine October 3, 2009

At 5:27 PM today, I bent over the counter in anticipation for what I thought would be the perfect snack. Over the last few months I have grown accustomed to enjoying nectarines over the sink with running water and a dish towel nearby. I decided it was much classier for me to consume my favorite stone fruit this way in comparison to taking them to work in my lunch and grossing out my coworkers as the juicy fruit oozes down my chin and I shuffle around frantically searching for more paper towels.

Since returning from vacation my grocery shopping schedule has been a little off. As such, nectarines haven’t been finding their way to the fruit bowl and I just went nuts for one on the ride home from work today. As such, this moment was highly anticipated… I bit in ready to savor the sweetness… and didn’t.

‘Hmph,’ I thought. ‘Figures.’

I go through this experience every autumn. When the nectarines go mute, I know that the sweet season of summer is over. Although I love (love, LOVE) the fall, I always feel sentimental saying good-bye to summer. Today was no different. As I rummaged about getting ready to go to a recruiting event, I couldn’t stop thinking (more likely being reminded of) the amazing season that has just transpired.

So… because I can sometimes be a bit whiny and self-critical (what?!), I’ve compiled a list of the blessings I’ve seen Jesus bestow on me this season. In Dave Ramsey style, I have received better than I deserve.

B is for Brides: Five of them (M, T, E, J & W… in order by date of marriage). I had the most beautiful refrigerator this summer due to the frilly, sparkly, classy, and crafty invitations for showers, bachelorettes, and yes, weddings. As invitations flooded in, I was so excited to rip open each envelope and see which friend it belonged to. In a time where more than half of marriages end in divorce and media largely promulgates the free spirited, make no commitment lifestyle, I have had five beautiful friends say ‘Yes!’ to one of the most important partnerships they’ll ever experience. Better yet, they let me be a part of it!

Do the sales clerks at the Northgate Macy’s know me by name? Yes. Do they want to know if I’m buying for the bride who picked the white or red Fiestaware? Yes. Am I blessed by these women and encouraged by their patience, generosity, and overall good attitudes as everyone in their life gave them opinions regarding every facet of life (from napkin rings to when they should try to start for a baby)? Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

And you know what’s great? I have two more brides-to-be in the hopper (K & D… in order of engagement)!

B is for Birthdays: Not mine mind you but everybody else’s. Mom, brother J, and Dad in June. Sister K and Grandma C in July. Grandma R in August. Other aunts and uncles scattered throughout. I wish that my credit union would offer a Summer Birthday Fund instead of the oh-so-popular Christmas Savers Fund because I eat a lot of birthday cake in the summer. But you know what? I eat a lot of birthday cake in the summer. I am blessed that I have cheeks to kiss and cards to write. I am lucky that I get to stress over the perfect gift for both grandmas (who have everything) and parents (who never need anything… or so they tell me). I’m learning that as we get older, each birthday really does become more and more dear.

B is for Babies: This blessing is two-fold.

First fold: After shying away from taking on any new responsibilities for a year, I took over the Toddler 1 class at our church this summer. I found out that waddlers (as some will call them) aren’t as cute as they look all the time. Prior to leading the Toddler 1 class, I was in the 2 year old class. Let me tell you… 2 year olds are rational. You can tell a 2 year old that his parents are learning about Jesus and will come back when they’re finished and he will believe you. A 1 year old will break your heart. You can ask a 2 year old what’s wrong and get an answer. A one year old will only start to hiccup because they’re so distressed. I am not a rock star in my new position in Children’s Ministry. There often aren’t enough arms to hold those little bodies and there definitely is not enough bubble solution. However… I’ve learned to ask for help when we’re a little overwhelmed. I’ve also learned that I’m not a failure when I have to page a parent to pick up their screamer. A good lesson to learn really.

Second fold: My friends S and K welcomed their own baby bear into the world approximately one month ago. K is a beautiful mommy. During her pregnancy, she was so sincere about how things were going. An avid dessert aficionado, K lost her desire for all sweet things during her pregnancy. She was also nauseous far longer than most women are. All the meanwhile, K had such a sweet heart and a sincere spirit of selflessness (think 8 months pregnant during our crazy heat wave). I learned a lot from K this summer. Thanks K.

And you know what’s great (part II!)? My other friend, K, and her husband, J, are expecting their own little baby bear. I’m so excited to meet him/her!

Lastly, B is for Buses: The transportation mode of choice if you ask me – particularly if they’re of the Mercedes Benz variety, are filled with wonderful people, and have air conditioning. My little venture to the Mediterranean was a two year process of Jesus telling me what to do, me miraculously listening to him, and then me missing my departing plane to get there.

I had a great time in Greece and Israel. I saw the Sea of Galilee, walked the streets of Old Jerusalem, and floated in the Dead Sea. I met some great people who I hope to call friends until we reconnect in heaven. I learned a lot about God’s provision not only in my life but to all of humanity. Riding in a bus through the check point going into Bethlehem, I realized how small and dearly loved we are. Time does not stand still as evidenced by my muted nectarine. The seasons come and go. Hardships bombard us. Good times do too. I’m so thankful for both.

Better Late Than Never? September 14, 2009

In December of 2007, I carefully and gut-wrenchingly (notice the lack of prayerfully) thought of two ‘New Year’s Resolutions’ for 2008:

 

1)   I would take a multi vitamin and dose of fish oil daily, and

2)   I would give up cussing at other drivers on my I-5/WSR 520/I-405 commute.

 

I believe I made it through January 3^rd and 9^th, respectively, until those resolutions became unresolved.

 

When it came up to 2009, I wised up… not because I became smarter. Nope… I still wanted to finish up those Buy One Get One Free NatureMade fish oil supplement bottles I had bought nearly 12 months prior. The Holy Spirit had a different idea. Why not pick a Bible verse to commit to memory during the year and actually try to live it out? I thought that was pretty sweet so I flipped through my Bible and picked a section of scripture that had caught my eye over the last few months – Romans 12/ 9-12:

 

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.

 

Ok, ok… I’ll admit I had to put my head between my knees to remember the word ‘faithful’ above. And I had to double-check the actual translation. So yes, that means it’s September 13, 2009, 254 days later and I haven’t even successfully completed part one of my non-resolution. I’m going to keep on trying though because I knew when I was asked to try this out that I wouldn’t be able to do it perfectly.

 

Since becoming a Christian, I have had the great privilege of getting to talk to family members, friends, co-workers, and strangers about their spiritual life. Because I’m a WASP (see definition in my first post below), most of the people I’ve talked to grew up going to a Christian church and found it to be full of a lot of hypocrites: people who preached the beatitudes to anyone who would listen (or was in range to hear them) and then wouldn’t tip at Denny’s at their post-service breakfast. As such, it didn’t seem very conducive or profitable to most to try to stay awake through a service that was too long and too boring. I got that – even though the church that I went to as a child had a fascinating pastor and I never went to Denny’s for a post-service Grand Slam.

 

As people, we desire sincere relationships. We crave sharing life with people who are honest, warm, and love us. Therefore, when we go to a place where people who are claiming to worship a loving God who is generous, kind, and wonderful in every way and see people we know are closet alcoholics, not-so-private racists, and girls who can’t memorize three verses of scripture in 254 days, it can be disheartening. But this is Christ’s church. Excuse me, this is Christ’s church on earth.

 

Until Jesus comes back and restores things to be as He originally intended, we’re a bunch of ragamuffins who are hanging on in prayer and faith that He’s working in us. It’s His strength that straightens us out and His gracious arms that cradle us when we squirm out of His embrace and crash and burn (it’s inevitable). For those who are reading this and can attest to experiencing the imperfection of the people who comprise Jesus’ church on earth, I apologize for our disobedience. We know better. We’ve experienced better. We can do better. Which is why it’s about time I put Romans 12 into action. Better late than never.

Tears (Don’t) Dry On Their Own September 8, 2009

According to a sign outside of the western wall in Jerusalem, Israel, the wall “has been the focus of the prayer for Jews from all around the world” signifying “their faith in the rebuilding of the Temple.” On the recent ten day vacation I took to Athens, Greece and Tiberius/Jerusalem, Israel, the western wall was probably the highest speculated tour stop on our itinerary. After going through security and accidently taking a site curator for a peddler of scarves (women must cover their shoulders and my flutter sleeves weren’t sufficient), I approached the site where hundreds and thousands of Jewish people have made pilgrimages, ready to be mystified.

It is a common practice for those who visit the western (aka wailing) wall, to write a prayer on a piece of paper and insert it into the wall. As I approached the wall, I couldn’t do it. As I snapped some pictures and took a look around, I felt somewhat empty – definitely not mystified. I turned around to leave (another no-no as visitors tend to back away from the wall) feeling a bit off. As I exited the women’s praying area, I realized I wasn’t numb. I was saddened by the wall, the wailing, and the 30 or so meters of room allotted to the people of the world who come to visit.

Western (Wailing) Wall in Jerusalem, Israel

I want to heavily disclaim that I am not an expert in Israeli/Hebrew/Jewish culture/art/history/economics/religion. My closest experience to someone who is a practicing Jew is a sorority sister in college (my second closest connection is Charlotte from Sex and the City). I never took the time to ask the sorority sister much about her faith so I sadly threw away that experience to learn something new. If there is one thing I do know, however, it’s that the Jewish faith holds that the messiah will not arrive until the temple is rebuilt. Referring back to the sign quoted above, the temple was “razed by the Roman legions over 1900 years ago” and hasn’t been restored.

The temple can’t be built just anywhere. God gave King David specific instructions as to where and to what specifics it should be built. These haven’t changed despite the fact that control over the site has hot-potatoed between different groups over the course of its history. Currently, a mosque and Muslim monument known as the Dome of the Rock stand over the temple mount. When I considered this, I could empathize with the wailers. If one truly believed (even erroneously) that the arrival of the messiah seemed so out of reach, it would be easy to be disheartened. As I mulled over my observations with some travel mates over iced coffee, I found myself saying the harshest criticism of my trip (even surpassing my customer complaint to the transatlantic air carrier just days before): “If all they’re waiting for is the temple to be rebuilt, then what’s the hold up?”

Yikes. After He resurrected from the dead, Jesus Christ, commanded the disciples to “…go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.” [Matthew 28: 19-20] To Christians (those who believe that Jesus Christ fulfilled the prophesy of the Old Testament and is the Messiah) this command holds just as much significance as the reconstruction of the temple to the Jewish faith.

So… why do I (a Christian) get all puffed up over the barista getting my drink order wrong or the traffic on 520? Although Israel is covered with several sites which have significance to the Christian faith, there is not one holy site on which my faith hangs. When I professed my faith in Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit took residence in my heart. As such, I walk around daily with the equivalent of the wailing wall in my inner being!

I could be mundane and even superficial by saying that this realization (or gift really) was refreshing and was the climax of my trip. It was much more than that. The gift to participate to in the ministry of Jesus Christ is not something to suppress or minimize. It should be the momentum behind each step, the source of each breath, and pang of each heart’s desire. Yikes. This is just scratching at the surface…

Isaiah 61

1 The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor;
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and the opening of the prison to those who are bound;
2 to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor,
and the day of vengeance of our God;
to comfort all who mourn;
3 to grant to those who mourn in Zion—
to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;
that they may be called oaks of righteousness,
the planting of the LORD, that he may be glorified.
4 They shall build up the ancient ruins;
they shall raise up the former devastations;
they shall repair the ruined cities,
the devastations of many generations.

Mars Hill Church | Proverbs (2009) | Fear September 4, 2009

more about "Mars Hill Church | Proverbs (2009) | …", posted with vodpod

Maybe Not So Fearless September 4, 2009

In my first post, I oh-so-creatively referenced the song Fearless by Taylor Swift, citing that Jesus was the one and only who could ease the fears I had about starting a blog.

Having just returned from an awesome 10 day stint in Greece and Israel, I was talking to my sweet roomate, E, about the trip and things we were both learning as we continue to attempt to put ourselves aside and let Jesus do some refining. She mentioned that she had been benefiting from the Proverbs course which was recently taught at our church. Needing some background noise as I unpacked and laundered my clothing, I listened to the following lesson on the right fear which Christians should have according to Solomon’s discussion in Proverbs 1 (you can view it directly above).

As Meryl Streep would say in ‘The Devil Wears Prada’, I have been moving with a glacial pace through my recent study of Proverbs (I’m using the Proverbs study from NavPress’ Life Change Series). As I pray for a fourth wind to finish the study by Christmas, I found this lesson to be straightforward and helpful. Leading up to vacation, I was somewhat anxious and grouchy… after some time away from the hustle and bustle I found that my exhaustion and sour attitude were caused by me putting my value in earthly scales and not in my identity in Jesus Christ. Hence, when things didn’t work out, I was out of sorts.

I particularly found the first of Pastor Mark’s questions to be really convicting. The question was something to the effect of: what is one area of your life that God in His graciousness has blessed you with wisdom? At first, I couldn’t think of anything and then I realized how prideful I’ve become. In four years of walking with Jesus, I haven’t learned anything? Really? While I sort this out a little further and attempt to give Jesus the credit He is so worthy of, I will also admit that maybe I’m not so fearless.

Proverbs 1

¹ The proverbs of Solomon, son of David, king of Israel:
²To know wisdom and instruction,
to understand words of insight,
³to receive instruction in wise dealing,
in righteousness, justice, and equity;
⁴to give prudence to the simple,
knowledge and discretion to the youth—
⁵Let the wise hear and increase in learning,
and the one who understands obtain guidance,
⁶to understand a proverb and a saying,
the words of the wise and their riddles.

⁷ The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge;
fools despise wisdom and instruction.

248 VSV July 6, 2009

Occasionally when perusing my iPhone, I fall upon a note from May when my sister, K, and I went on a mini-road trip from Las Vegas to the Grand Canyon. Whenever, I see the message, my stomach falls. Who would know that a message containing six characters ‘248 VSV’ would have such an effect months after the incident where I frantically typed it into my phone?

Without being dramatic (I have to admit I’ve relayed the story at least a half dozen times since then), here’s what happened:

*Sisters decided to go on vacation to the Grand Canyon. To save money, both sisters decide to camp.

*Older sister (yours truly) has a low tolerance for woodland/dessert animals and scorpions. Older sister also doesn’t want to travel in style in the 1998 Ford Taurus. As such, older sister has a stroke of genius and decides the sisters will car camp. Older sister rents a super sweet Jeep to live out her dream of driving with the wind in her hair along Route 66.

*The morning of the trip, sisters arrive and pick up super sweet car. The original model was unavailable, so sisters get a free upgrade to a Jeep Commander. Older sister is thrilled but nervous. The Commander is three times expensive as the car she drives around Seattle. However, older sister deals with it quite easily.

*Three miles away from rental facility, the sisters approach a yellow light. Younger sister (and Las Vegas native) tells sister to keep going. Older sister hits the brakes (this car is three times more expensive than the one she drives around in Seattle and she doesn’t want to do anything risky). Jeep stops behind the stop line just in time. Both sisters hear screeching and feel the Jeep jump. Both sisters freak out too.

*Older sister gets out of the car and checks out the damage. Older sister sees the Jeep Commander versus Honda Civic battle is over. Honda Civic loses. However, as the Jeep does not belong to the older sister (who declined additional insurance coverage at the rental facility), she signals to the driver of the Honda Civic to pull over after both cars go through the intersection.

*As older sister gets in the car, she gets a bad feeling in her stomach. Older sister tells younger sister to try to get the car’s license plate number just in case. Not everyone’s insured these days.

*Jeep Commander travels through the intersection and pulls over. Both sisters hear a “vroooooom” and see the Honda Civic sail past them.

“248 VSV! 248 VSV! 248 VSV!”

Both sisters scream. Cell phones are flipped, calls are made, and father of both girls is pulled out of an important meeting for a consultation. Police are called, rental car company is called, and insurance company is called.

*Both sisters wait. Policeman comes and checks out the damage. Policeman gets a call. Policeman has good news! A person at the scene of the accident followed the Honda Civic and the police have intercepted him. Both sisters need to go to the point of interception to ID the driver.

*’Wow!’ both sisters say. ‘Some retiree in Las Vegas had a lot of time on his hands’.

*Policeman escorts sisters to the point of interception and asks older sister to ID the driver. “I can’t really see him from here,” older sister says. “Can I get a little closer?” she asks.

*Policeman advises older sister to only go as close as she needs to until she can ID the driver.

*Older sister moves closer and sees the driver. It’s the same man who nodded when she asked him to pull over. Driver is in handcuffs. “That seems severe,” older sister thinks. “Hmph.”

*Older sister fills out paperwork. Younger sister takes photos of squad cars encircling the Honda Civic.

*A couple squad cars drive away. The tow truck comes and takes the Honda Civic away. Another policeman comes by to give the sisters his business card and to sign the police report.

*Noticing that the driver was taken away in a police vehicle, the older sister asks, “So what’s going to happen?”

*“Well,” the other police offer says, “the driver was an illegal so he’ll go to jail tonight and then we’ll take him to the border patrol.”

*Older sister cries and cries and cries. Her sunglasses quickly fog over (that will happen if you cry in the desert) and she continues to cry. Younger sister comforts older sister. Other policeman suggests that sisters go check out the new Chippendale show assuring the older sister it will make her feel better.

*Older sister stops crying and thinks “Yeah right.”

The fact that I cried and feel at unease about the deportation incident would probably lead some people to say that I was being a little dramatic. Over the course of what remained to be our vacation, the mental picture of the driver in handcuffs would flash in my mind and I would slightly whimper. If I had known that calling the police to get a case number for insurance reasons would have resulted in the deportation of another individual, I would have paid five times over to fix the car myself. As my sister reminded me, however, there was no way I could have known that would happen. Still though… you know?

As our vacation continued and we hiked the Grand Canyon, bought ice cream at the general store, and caught the shuttle to watch the sunrise, the circumstances of our trip made me think a lot about citizenship. While the debate has somewhat simmered, the opinions relating to naturalization, borders, right of privilege and the like have led to strong clashes in recent years. This whole situation has made me grateful for the Gospel which clearly shows tells those who will listen that after everything comes to an end, there will only be one kingdom that will stand. The right of entry will not be determined by an agreed-upon line or birth certificate. As Paul wrote in his letter to the church at Ephesus, “Make every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. For there is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called; one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.”

In consideration of this, I was reminded that the current fixation that consumes so many headlines, debates, and airtime is centered upon nationalities, borders, and zones, which will have no relevance when everything is said and done. That is not to say that humanitarian efforts to protect people’s safety and well-being should not be championed. They should… with the right end in mind.

As I have had time to process the our little mishap in May more and more, I have become less and less concerned with whether the driver of the Honda Civic has been able to make it back into the US. Instead, my thoughts have been captivated by his eternal citizenship. Will we laugh at the Feast of the Lamb over our introduction at Tropicana and Paradise or will I never see him again? It is this citizenship that captures my heart for this is the one that truly matters.

Philippians 3:20-21/

But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly wait await a Savior from there, the Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.

For CSP May 25, 2009

CSP: You asked for it…

Let’s skip the small talk.

Just tell me about your life.

Do you know Jesus?

Without Him, I was a Mess April 20, 2009

Approximately an hour ago, I sat at church talking with E, a girl from my service team, as we wrapped things up. ‘E’, I said, ‘I just want five more people to come and visit us… and I want to check the ‘I’m a new believer’ box for one of them. Wouldn’t that be exciting?!’ It only took a few moments for it to hit me… that today, April 19^th, was my ‘become a new believer’ birthday.

That’s right. Four years ago, I, along with a staff member of Campus Crusade for Christ named M, sat on the window sill of the Sigma Phi Epsilon fraternity at Washington State University. It was there that I prayerfully and tearfully and sobbingly asked Jesus to take over my life. In that instant I was adopted into God’s holy family as I acknowledged that without Jesus, I was a mess.

The ‘About Me’ page of this blog says that ‘I’m a mid-twenties gals who lives in Seattle and loves Jesus.’ The one sentence that I use to describe myself has only been true for a few years and I think it is important for people to get a glimpse into how I came to call and depend upon Jesus as my Savior and Lord. Otherwise, one might be under the impression that I am just one of those people who went to a Christian school (I didn’t) and rocked out to Spirit 105.3 24/7 as my mom drove me around to Girl Scouts and ballet lessons. Although some people are blessed to have these experiences, God didn’t use them to capture my heart. Following is my testimony that I wrote before heading to a summer project in Lake Tahoe. If you have any questions or comments, I would love to talk to you!

TESTIMONY

I became a Christian during my junior year at Washington State University. As a child, I had a lot of exposure to Christ. In fact, a lot of my childhood memories center upon Sunday School, church picnics, and vacation Bible School during the summer. Looking back, however, I can see that my participation rooted from an inherent belief that doing such things would make me look good before God. As I grew older, my desire to “look good” paired with a deep set belief that I had to be accomplished to be accepted. I craved recognition and admiration. Consequently, my high school track record was spotted with accomplishments that resulted from my drive for perfection. If my grades, clubs and activities, or scholarship applications weren’t perfect, I would use my frustration to only motivate myself to work harder, longer, and with more intensity.

When I came to college, I brought my identity in performance with me. I joined a sorority and naturally put all of my energy into it. I literally ate, slept, and breathed Kappa Alpha Theta. As I became involved with leadership positions, I set my eyes on the position of President as it was the most prominent position within the chapter. In order to secure the position, I put every fiber of my being into keeping an impeccable record. I was nice to everyone, drank just enough to be “real”, and made sure that I led any available committee. As I approached officer elections during my junior year, I felt confident that the position of President was mine. When the election process occurred and I was offered a vice president position instead of president, I was devastated to say the least. I had done everything humanly possible to secure the position yet I had failed.

As I dealt with my frustration and disappointment, my perspective of my sorority changed dramatically. I grew resentful towards my sorority sisters because I felt that they had wronged me. I threw myself into my new position hoping that each accomplishment would make me feel worthwhile. The joy, however, was short lived.

All the while, I had been doing a Bible study on the book of Ephesians because I wanted to be or at least appear to be a good Christian. As I progressed though the study, however, I felt that my knowledge of God was being shaken. I especially felt a lot of anxiety as I compared the characteristics of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, to the way I was behaving. He was so good and loving while I had grown into this ugly person. I began to question the authenticity of my faith when I stumbled upon the story in Luke of Mary and Martha, the two sisters who invited Jesus into their home. When Jesus arrived, Mary could do nothing but sit at His feet and listen to him. Meanwhile, Martha grew irritated since Mary was neglecting the work that needed to be done to entertain their guest. While reading this story, I realized that I had lived my entire life like Martha. I was consistently busying myself with things to do so that I would feel accomplished while what I really needed was the love of Jesus Christ. I prayed to receive Christ a couple days later, acknowledging that I had to abandon my inhibitions to prove myself worthwhile to Him. Instead, I learned that God created me so that I could have a personal relationship with Him and in order to know Him personally, I had to admit that there was nothing I could humanly do to overcome sin. For the first time in my life, I made a heart connection to the Lord in realizing that only through Jesus Christ’s sacrifice could I have fellowship with God, receive the Holy Spirit, and have eternal life.

Since starting a personal relationship with God, I have seen Him completely transform my heart and perspective. Through study of the word and fellowship with other Christians, I have found assurance in His plan for my life. Instead of pushing myself in school, work, or my sorority to determine my own worth over the years, I continually turn to God for reassurance. When I think of the radical transformation that God has worked in my life, I refer to a quote by Anne Lamott, a northwest author:

“Think of a fine painter attempting to capture an inner vision, beginning with one corner of the canvas, painting what she thinks should be there, not quite pulling it off, covering it over with white paint, and trying again, each time finding out what her painting isn’t, until she finally finds out what it is. And when [she] finally finds out what one corner of His vision is, she’s off and running.”

Before knowing Christ personally, I was a feverish painter trying to create a masterpiece by myself. Now, as I walk with the Lord, I find comfort knowing that His hands are skillfully brushing the strokes that compose my life and purpose, creating a far more beautiful vision than I could ever imagine.

More Than a Coffee Mug March 17, 2009

A few months ago, my very sweet friends (AKLM) who know my strong approval of Starbucks ceramic ware, gifted me a very sweet coffee cup. It’s the perfect size as it allows me to walk (spill-free) to the couch while holding it in one hand and is white with large red and orange flowers asymmetrically dispersed on the inside and outside. I loved it when I got it and still get this odd sense of bliss when it comes to that day during the week when I get to pull it down from the cupboard and pour my daily brew into it.

In my last post, I told you (well, the four friends who got suckered into reading it) that if there was anything that you should know, it’s that I’m not fearless. The second thing you should know about me is that I am a dreamer… especially when it comes to my future home and the people and the things that will fill it. For the most part, I’ve lived pretty lightly due to having roommates that are pretty well-equipped. To date, my kitchenware consists of an extensive/sophisticated list of cooking gadgets. You know… pots… pans… a food processer… micro zesters… an olive pitter… etc. It does not include, however, silverware… drinking glasses (other than my Starbucks mug collection)… dinner plates… you know, things you would eat those pitted olives with/on! As such, I have been known to spend/lose/relish in hours walking through Macy’s or Crate and Barrel looking at plates and dreaming of what could be. To date though, I haven’t actually picked anything out in fear of jinxing things. Having been perpetually single (as I would define it, I haven’t had dinner with anyone that my parents have met), there’s always been the fear of getting ahead of myself.

So what does my stalking of ceramic plates have to do with my sweet Starbucks mug? If you had asked me last month, I wouldn’t have an answer. Due to the occurrence of some very strategic events, however, that sweet little Starbucks mug has a lot to do with my lack of commitment to everyday china. You see, until a few days ago, that sweet little mug represented my suppression of the glory that Jesus has blessed me with. Just recently, I’ve realized that I’ve been holding one of God’s most awesome blessings away at arm’s length.

I could get off on a tangent so I’ll be forthright. I haven’t wanted to buy plates because I’ve always told myself that I should wait to “get the good stuff” until I’m married. Somehow, I believed that waiting for marriage to buy FiestaWare was a discipline of a godly woman. Well, due to having the awesome opportunity to listen to a godly brother and sister in Christ (at separate events), I’ve realized how silly and sinful my well-intentioned restraint has been.

It began at a church event where Dr. Les Parrot, a psychology professor/researcher at Seattle Pacific University, came to discuss how the single population could start to foster healthy relationships. I’ll admit I had a hard time paying attention as I had been up the night before until 2:30 AM looking for my car keys in the dark at Green Lake (a future post on grace, perhaps?). I was exhausted and actually nodded in and out of consciousness (sorry Les!). I did get a recap though later in the evening as my friend (G) and a few other women discussed Dr. Parrot’s advice. I was intrigued when one of the women said something to the effect of: “Wasn’t it encouraging to hear Dr. Parrot tell us not to put our life on hold while we wait to find our future husband?”  At first, I was pretty smug as I did a quick self-assessment of my life. I thought of my extensive traveling, great (no, really great) job, the fact that I have taken whatever opportunities I’ve been given to pursue interests, and do other general shenanigans which let me sleep well at night. Yep, no ‘life on holder here’, I thought.

Fast forward about a month or so to last weekend and I was at my church’s women’s retreat listening to Barbara Hughes explain that God plans our point in human history very carefully (which I already had believed) and that this included our times of singleness (which I also believed). B. Hughes then continued, however, and went through a list of the benefits to being single. It was at this moment where my heart got a mini-jumpstart. As I mentioned before, I had already been won over to the idea that God plans our life carefully because He is good. What I hadn’t really considered though was that my singleness was something to rejoice in.

Over the course of the next few days, I began to process things and, by Jesus’ good grace, realized that while I might have not been putting my life on hold, I certainly haven’t been reveling in the place where God has me. As of now, the Lord has me in a position where I am Jessica: daughter, sister, granddaughter and friend. Instead of living in a place where I’m waiting to buy salad plates and cereal bowls, I should be living the life that Jesus has crafted OUT LOUD because He is the master painter and my singleness is the color on His palette.

Now, does this mean that I’m going to go stampede into Crate and Barrel tomorrow morning? Probably not. While it’s fun to blog about my favorite coffee mug (thanks again AKLM!), this is really more about rejoicing in the circumstances that I find myself painted in at the moment. It’s about loving the people that Jesus has put in my life, pursuing those who haven’t met Him yet, and praising Him for letting me play any part of it.

Acts 17

²⁴ The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, ²⁵nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything. ²⁶And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, ²⁷ that they should seek God, in the hope that they might feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us, ²⁸for “‘In him we live and move and have our being’;…

Fearless March 1, 2009

And I don’t know how it gets better than this
You take my hand and drag me head first
Fearless
And I don’t know why but with you I’d dance
In a storm in my best dress
Fearless

(lyrics from Fearless as sung by Taylor Swift)

If there is anything that you should know about this blog, it’s that its author is not fearless. ‘So why write then?’, you may ask yourself and me.

I have to admit that I have been asking myself the same question for the last eight weeks – the time that has elapsed since I went onto wordpress?…blogspot?… no wordpress and signed up for this account. The reason why I’m writing now, with my first entry being the last day of February is because I was blessed with the thought of a very good title (see above) in the fall. Blessed by whom? Jesus. And now, having signed up for my blog last month, I realized that I really should post something before WordPress kicks me off for inactivity. There’s also the point that Jesus really has been telling me to get on it. Sooner than later.

‘But what do I write about?’, I asked half an hour ago as I lay on the floor in the hallway. I’m not a poet or a deep philosophical thinker. I have even come to the point where I’ve made the general disclaimer on my facebook page that I am ‘vanilla’. This is going to be embarrassing…

So a few minutes ago I trudged upstairs to my desk and started my computer. My stomach literally lurched… the feeling that you get when you’re extremely nervous. Typing in my password and finding Microsoft Word on my computer caused more twisting. As I said, I am not fearless. ‘Well, let’s start with some music… but what kind of music? Does it need to be worship music?’ I ask as iTunes opens… ‘No, just start something that makes me feel good.’ I go straight to Taylor Swift, double-click and then perch over the keyboard. ‘Oh, I get it,’ I think as the music infiltrates my room much too loudly.

What did I get? Simply that this blogging, though not perfect, will be a more-than-ok experience. As I mentioned above, it really is an act of obedience to a mighty and loving God that I’m doing this. To be honest, I’ve never really been into blogging. I don’t have a list of favorites and the pressure to think of something earth-shattering is pretty big. What can a 25 year old, WASP (white anglo-saxon protestant) have to say that will make people sit up and take notice? Perhaps nothing. But I’m willing to see what Jesus has in store. Why? Because I’d dance in a storm with Him in my best dress. Why? Because He is an awesome God who is faithful and just. Is He perfect? Yes. Is He worthy? So much so that perhaps I’ll try to get two posts in next month.

Philippians 4

⁴Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! ⁵Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. ⁶Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ⁷And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.