Saturday, July 31, 2010

.community: mine.

choked up reading Mark this morning.

And they came, bringing to Him a paralytic carried by four of them.
And when they could not get near Him because of the crowd,
they removed the roof above Him,
and when they had made an opening,
they let down the bed on which the paralytic lay.
And when Jesus saw their faith,
He said to the paralytic, "Son, your sins are forgiven."
ch 2, vs. 3-5

That story felt familiar.

:grateful.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

.true love.

I'm in it.

With this face right here (as you will soon be too- press play!):



He does that head bobbing thing IMMEDIATELY anytime that song comes on. Seriously. Omg. The cuteness.

Over my recent visit home, Mary and I were discussing our incredibly special and beautiful mentorship/friendship, and remembering how it started when she was 18 and I was 14.

Bet she didn't know that when she "adopted" little freshman -in-high-school-me, pouring all her love and prayers into lots of coffee dates, sleepovers, Bible studies and encouragement letters...

that someday I would be plotting how to steal her son and take him back to Wheaton with me. Mwahaha.

(Maryyy, I TOLD you that God TOLD me that you and Wolf are supposed to just MOVE HERE. Reallllyyyy. So then I won't HAVE to steal any babies, okkkk?? Ok great thank you. See you soon.)

See? Rex clearly loves the idea.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Hilarious.


Lindsay, my sweet best friend in Bolivia, just posted this picture that made me laugh soooo much. It's at a recent wedding they attended. This was during the ceremony... all those people up there taking pictures? Photographers? No no. Guests who wanted to make sure they didn't miss the shot.

Aahh, I miss that country yo.

(I miss that beautiful girl and her husband even more!)


Monday, July 19, 2010

Ohio!

I just got to spend a lovely weekend in Ohio with one of my favorite families, relaxing and partyin' it up Hiltibran style...

Lots of intense games of Settlers...


And cornhole...



(I just really enjoy Matt's facial expression in this one)

And corn-shucking...




And tree-climbing...







And, it was all really beautiful. Mostly the people, but also all of this:






Mmm country!


Not pictured: The other three (four?) games of Settlers, one game of Croquet, one game of Scrabble, two trips to get ice cream, maple fudge, Amish people (they don't like to get their pictures taken, but I waved at some of them passing in a buggy!), Matt's sweet grandma, the Hiltibran men wrestling, and late-night pillow talks with Katie and Beth.

I really like all of them yo.







(Especially the Amish people. I mean...)

It was so relaxing and fun to be with them. On the drive home I prayed a lot and thought about friends, and family, and friends' families, and friends that become family, and got so filled up with gratitude that I actually ached a little bit.

Thanks for having me, Hiltibrans!



Wednesday, July 14, 2010

"Prayer is not easy. Jesus spent the night in prayer...


"...That's a picture of the fact that prayer is not something you always feel.

It's not a voice you always hear with these ears.

It's not always an insight that suddenly comes to you in your little mind.

(God's heart is greater than the human heart, God's mind is greater than the human mind, and God's light is so great that it might blind you and make you feel like you're in the night.)

But you have to pray.

You have to listen to the Voice who calls you the beloved
..."


-Nouwen, from my favorite article.


(I'm better at typing it than doing it, but I wanted to share anyway.)

Friday, July 9, 2010

Your hands...

I first heard this song a few months ago and have listened to it over and over again. Seeing the sincerity on the singer/song-writer's face as she sings it herself in this video made it even more meaningful for me...

K-LOVE - JJ Heller "Your Hands" LIVE from K-LOVE Radio on Vimeo.

Monday, July 5, 2010

as are all things.

One of my best friends once wrote this:

"...The last four months were hard. But if a semester is the cross, as are all things, then maybe the last four months saved my life. Maybe all those other things taught me to see my One thing better."


Prayer this semester didn't look anything like what I have known it to look like before. I couldn't journal. I couldn't sit in a coffee shop and follow any train of thought long enough to feel like I was praying. The cheerfully-voiced and neatly patterned prayers I said with friends in the cafeteria before meals bore little to no resemblance to the way God and I were actually talking.

Me and Jesus, the me and Jesus we have been since I was 12, wasn't happening. I didn't know how to talk to Jesus in a world that lets little girls get raped and beaten and abandoned. Not in a fake, "Well, I just don't know how to talk to you if you're going to be like that" haughty way. I mean I literally did not know how to talk to Him in this new world in which I found myself. Sometimes I'll try to tell someone that I feel 'different' since HNGR and I don't know how to explain it. Because we're all different, all the time. We're different every year, sometimes for good and sometimes for bad. But I don't mean like I grew, or even I regressed. Sometimes I feel like my entire foundation that I stood on has been taken apart and put back together and I'm standing on something I don't even recognize. Now that I can breathe a little bit more I'm realizing that what I'm standing on is still pretty good. Sometimes I get these tiny glimpses that it might even be better. Stronger. But I had to learn how to do all these things on it that I knew how to do before, but the ways I knew how to do them don't work here. And the main thing that didn't work, was praying.

Praying with the expectation life is going to work out just beautifully didn't work. That sucked, but it was good. That was a wrong foundation I'd had. That's not how God works, and it's not how He's ever said He was going to work. I'm not sure why I thought otherwise, and it's been- it is- painful rearranging that. But it's good.

And, praying with the knowledge that God is good, didn't work. Because I wasn't so sure about that all the time anymore.
That sucked, and it wasn't good.

I didn't know how to pray without knowing that God is good, which means I didn't even know how to pray about the fact that I didn't know God was good. And so praying (and pretty much everything else, actually) felt terrifying.

So prayer this semester felt like it almost never happened. Because it didn't happen in any ways I had known to recognize.

Prayer this semester, instead of feeling like I was "keeping company with God", instead of quiet times in Starbucks or Caribou or long letters to God in my journal, was a lot of long walks, in the snow, by myself, with my iPod. Sometimes if it was cold or too late at night instead of walking it was driving, through my neighborhood, through the campus, going the speed limit and using turn signals, going slowly and mindlessly over the same route again and again as I tried to line my heart back up, in the quiet, for just a minute with the God I was missing.

Prayer was chopping vegetables. Really. So much so that I once heard a housemate confess to her boyfriend that she "kind of love[d] it when Emily gets depressed because we get a good soup". Prayer was hymns playing in the background as I focused on the purpose of peeling and chopping and stirring and found peace in the rhythm and the use of my hands.

Prayer was reading Rilke out loud before bed with my roommate and being able to, yes, line my heart up to these words. It was lighting a candle for five minutes at night as I asked God to bless the girls at Mosoj Yan- candle-lighting is something we did on the HNGR retreat which I found helpful.

Prayer was interceding for others, which I didn't do enough out of sheer laziness, but which by some beautiful miracle did not hold the difficulty that attempts at casual conversation with God did.

Prayer was and is, in an incredible gift of grace, the liturgy. It is going to church and saying and singing the same words every week, and in recent months being blessedly able to affirm them more and more. It is the gratitude that rises up in me that, in my inability to tell God these truths about Himself out of any spontaneity or warmth or even sense of friendship, I can sing them and raise my hands for an hour on Sunday mornings and get to tell Him them in that way. That I can find myself more and more knowing that I do believe these things, and that this liturgy, this church, is providing a way for me to affirm them before my own emotions or abilities are going to let me do so on my own. Oh, how grateful I am to get to praise God through words others have written and songs others are singing when my own heart is so confused and cold.

Prayer has been, greatly, others praying for me. That is something I think I underestimated the power of in these past seven months. People have prayed for me and that has been important.


Mostly as I have looked at myself and my interactions with God in the past seven months I have felt ashamed. Who am I to not pray? To not know how? To be so faithless? Clearly, to feel so far from prayer must mean I am far indeed. And how does this show gratitude to Mosoj Yan and the work they do?

But recently I have been realizing a bit more that it was a good thing for me to learn that prayer that does not look like journaling in a coffee shop and leaving with the feeling of peace, can still be prayer. That crying myself to sleep, God still heard me. That prayers lifted by others on my behalf and the behalf of my girls, do something powerful. And that if walking in the snow and chopping vegetables until my fridge was too full enabled me to be in front of God, then He was happy to meet me there.

I'm not very proud of how I lived the last seven months, but good things came out of them.

Mostly this year I felt like I couldn't see "my One thing". But maybe in His great and crazy mercy, He let me go for long walks and chop vegetables and rely on others' prayers, to teach me something about walking on without clarity or feelings of peace or any pride. Maybe He let me rely on the prayers of the church to teach me about the power of community worship, of the history of the big-C Church, of the importance of repetition for our souls, of the power that is in praising Him by choice and even by rote when we feel cold and dry.

I hope and pray that maybe in the long-term, these will be things that will let me see Him more.

If a semester is the cross, as are all things.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

.prayer.

As a mother stills her child,
Thou canst hush the ocean wild
Boisterous waves obey Thy will
when Thou say'st to them, "Be still!"
Wondrous Sovereign of the sea,
Jesus, Savior, pilot
me

Human Needs Global Resources Covenant, 2009

As fellow travelers on this journey, we commit to this covenant before God. Lord, in Your mercy, hear these our prayers:

When confronted with scarcity, need, and inadequacy, may we be nourished by the Bread of Life and the Cup of Salvation. Abundance overflows from Your table, sustaining all who come in faith. Father, help us.

When monotony blurs our vision and dulls our senses, may we encounter others as Christ did, through intentional presence in daily life, submitting as clay to be formed into vessels filled with the Spirit. Christ, guide us.

When wounded by the fractured condition of Your people, may we be united by Your Lordship in faith, hope, and love; seeing, as through the facets of a diamond, the beautiful spectrum of Your light reflected onto Your holy Church joined in praise. Spirit, empower us.

When all Creation groans, afflicted by injustice and driven to despair, may the promise of redemption root us in the hope of Your Kingdom: "Behold, I am making all things new!"

Holy Trinity, send us now into the world in peace, and grant us strength and courage to love and serve You with gladness and singleness of heart.

Amen.