forest for the trees

So I had one of those "duh, Kat" moments yesterday. You know the kind: getting all worked up & then the most obvious thing ever hits you, & you realize that both you & God are laughing at the same thing... that your attention is focused on all the wrong details.

I had been editing the above piece for several hours & was so engrossed in it that I hadn't looked at anything other than my computer screen since I started. So you can imagine my level of frustration: too much attention on the nit-picky minute details, making everything look crisp & straight, centering all the artwork to actually look like I measured things out before I drew them... {ha maybe next time?}. You get the gist.

So imagine my surprise when I printed a test sample out & I actually looked at what I had been working on. Not the fonts or the aesthetics, but the words. I laughed at myself {both aloud & in my head}, & I know sure as heck that God was laughing at me, too. I had completely forgotten what it said in the hours that I had been editing it, & the sad thing is I do that all the time. I'm such a detail-oriented person that I often can't see the forest for the trees. 

But don't worry, after gladly taking a respite from the ever dreaded editing process, I finally caught a glimpse of the forest & marveled at the beauty of how true those words are in the piece I worked on all day... & how comforting they are especially for the town of Moore, Oklahoma right now. So here's my prayer for them: that they find themselves immersed in the forest of His peace, rather than lost in trees of this world, & that we, their neighbors, help them get there by caring for them in any way we possibly can. 

a snellen chart for your soul

Fun fact for the non-optometrists & non-ophthalmologists out there: the eye charts you read at the doctor are called Snellen Charts. Learned that today when I looked up the format for one {useless fact #1 brought you by Kat here}. Anyways, here's a simple reminder to keep acuity of your faith in check {as well as your vision}. Hope everyone has a great weekend!

Isaiah 43

After getting a request to take a stab at this verse for a friend, I knew it was going to be a labor of love considering its length in words, but after five layout attempts, I think I finally got it right! Can't wait to play with it in photoshop & see the final product ;) 

Hope everyone is having a wonderful Tuesday! Can you believe that tomorrow we begin the month of May??

the light in a dark world

resilience: (ri-zil-yuhns) noun 1. the power or ability to return to the original form, position, etc., after being bent, compressed, or stretched; elasticity. 2. ability to recover readily from illness, depression, adversity, or the like; bouyancy. 


Yesterday was one of those days that I soaked in every detail & thought "isn't this incredible?" I guess that's a natural response after something horrible happens, like it did Monday at the Boston Marathon. But really life is incredible. 

As I ran along the Potomac proudly wearing my Red Sox shirt, I couldn't help but smile. That bleak day had finally ended and the sun had risen again. The sailboats were back gliding gracefully along the river, & as I passed fellow runners, walkers, & cyclists I noticed the number of people who were also proudly sporting their Boston gear: hats, shirts, Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics... As we passed each other we would all nod, wave, or smile, as if to say that we, too, stand behind Boston during this time. We, too, hurt with those lost or injured. And we, too, will overcome. 

But not only is life incredible, so is humanity itself. There were so many glimpses on Monday & Tuesday of how wonderfully good humanity can be, especially in the face of adversity! Of how runners would continue on past the finish line to Massachusetts General Hospital to give blood to those who needed it. Of bystanders running not away from the blasts but towards them to help in any way possible: creating tourniquets from their own clothes, comforting complete strangers as if they were family, offering their phones to those separated from their loved ones. Of neighbors volunteering everything {including their kitchen sink} to make those lost feel welcome during such a bewildering time by giving them something to drink or eat or a bathroom to clean up in. Of Bostonians all over the city posting their information on a google document offering up beds, sofas, and cuddly pets so that anyone dislodged could feel at home.

It's as if all of these people had lifted a candle to the sky to break away the dark shadow that had been cast. And the MLK quote projected on a wall in  New York was the perfect choice:

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.

Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."

And while yes, these harmful acts are slowly becoming our reality {it is the nature of the world to cast a dark shadow after all}, humanity will always answer to the call when darkness tries to overtake us. Because good will always overcome. 

a petition of clemency

Since moving to Old Town and seeing the Washington Monument, the Capitol, and the Old Post Tower on the reg from across the Potomac, we Berry's felt it was only appropriate to watch all seven seasons of The West Wing to properly introduce us to our new surroundings. And seriously, I forgot how addicting good that show really was.

And how appropriate that the episode of President Bartlet issuing pardons would come up around Easter... To recap, Bartlet is considering 36 petitions of clemency but is surrounded by sticky conditionals: poor timing in the lead up to his SOTU; the delegation of reviewing the petitions without looking like any heavy consideration is occurring; the relatively low number of pardons issued by his contemporaries vs. a noticeably higher average by Woodrow Wilson, Calvin Coolidge, & FDR; assurances that all selected petitions (referred to as "packing peanuts") are non-violent & serving minimum sentences; that all the "packing peanuts" don't scream too much of a political move in one direction or the other; worrying about what the chosen will look like on the cover of the Times... In other words, so much red tape. 

And poor Donna. She drew the short straw in having to review all the files on the 36. She sees them as more than a number: people with families, trying to make the best of desperate situations. Donna even meets the affluent family of one of the 36, who are so desperate for their son's pardon that the mother begs for the mercy of President Bartlet. But that pesky red tape barred any opportunity for his pardon at the moment ("maybe in the spring when the dust settles" as Leo puts it) & in the end, he kills himself. 

Could you imagine that? All those steps to ensure your forgiveness? To start anew? This stuff happens in real life. All because one made a terrible mistake. Damned for life {sounds a lot like Jean Valjean's life in Les Mis, doesn't it?}.

But then, there's a reciprocal story. It's the story of Easter. A story that deals with a pardon of the spirit rather than the flesh. A presidential pardon can only clear one's name, but for a soul-cleansing, look no further than the Cross. 

Skipping over the part about God sending his son to experience all of the trials and pains of the world (aka the Incarnation, John 1:1-2, 14), Christ did a rather preposterous thing {weirder greater than coming to earth in the first place}: he died... as a criminal in the eyes of the Law. But wait... Our perfect King, a criminal? 

Yes, yes. As I think many of us forget throughout the year and remember riiiiight around Passion week, Christ was quite the peaceful protestor. What he preached was a rebellion of itself {albeit a semi-quiet movement}, even though the God Incarnate knew all along that he was fulfilling all the previous covenants & Scripture from the Old Testament. The primate minds of the humans just couldn't comprehend... Not even his disciples fully knew what was going on & were confused even up to Christ's acknowledgment of the events to come {heck, they were confused until they saw him again on the third/fourth day}:

"Jesus took the Twelve aside and told them,

'We are going up to Jerusalem, 

and everything that is written by the prophets

 about the Son of Man will be fulfilled.

He will be handed over to the Gentiles.

They will mock him, insult him, spit on him, flog him and kill him.*

On the third day he will rise again.'

The disciples did not understand any of this.

Its meaning was hidden from them,

and they did not know what he was talking about."

Luke 18:31-34

Poor guys. They just didn't have a clue. Meanwhile, all the teachers of the Law and Pharisees were running around trying to catch Christ out on something he said. Anything to prove that he was a fraud... In their eyes (as in everyone else's), the Law was the Law. Uphold it or be cast aside. After playing a few rounds of Jeopardy! and Christ answering their vindictive questions with profound answers questions, the chief priests & elders got sick of their reindeer games and went with a different approach: cleverly arrest Jesus & kill him! So they checked their calendars & decided it was best to avoid their scheme during the Passover Feast as that may cause a riot among the people (Matthew 26:1-5). Always gotta tiptoe around those politics, you guys. Plus, they caught a lucky break by the name of the traitor Judas (a supposed disciple) who did all their dirty work for them.

So now we have a criminal caught up in a bad trial of false witnesses & evidence with the Sanhedrin. Eventually two witnesses appeared that had something of merit: they had heard Christ say "I am able to destroy the temple of God and rebuild it in three days." (Matthew 26:61) Needless to say, Christ eventually received his death sentence after admitting to being the Son of God (& they spit on & struck him*). So Christ was shuttled to the governor of Judea, Pontius Pilate, who had the authority at Passover to pardon a prisoner. But as this is a reciprocal story, Christ doesn't get pardoned; Christ does the pardoning. Instead Barabbas, a notorious prisoner, got the golden ticket, & Christ was flogged* and handed over to be crucified. 

In the next stage, the soldiers dressed Christ up in a robe, a crown of thorns, & a staff and mocked* him saying "Hail, king of the Jews" and spit on him some more. Once they'd had their fun, the soldiers crucified him & placed his written charge above his head: This is Jesus, King of the Jews. And pretty much anybody and everybody insulted* him: the soldiers, the passersby, even the robbers flanked on either side of him on their crosses {their personal favorite was reminding him of his power to destroy a temple, yet his inability to save himself from the cross.. Oh ye, of little faith!}

And so, he died* at the hands of the Law. Oh, and the temple broke in two, a sort of earthquake-thing happened, tombs broke open & many bodies of holy people were raised back to life (Matthew 27:51-53), causing the centurion to exclaim, "Surely he was the Son of God!"

But the chief priests & elders weren't done quite yet {they're very thorough}. They didn't want any funny business going on with the ever loyal disciples, so they posted a guard at the tomb to prevent anyone from stealing Christ's body & falsely proclaiming he had risen again on the third day. So on that day, there was a violent earthquake & an angel of the Lord came and rolled back the tomb stone {thwarting their plan of keeping it sealed shut}, which totally gave the guards a fright & caused them to pass out. The angel told the women (who had come before the angel's arrival) that Christ had risen! And to pass the news along to his disciples and Peter that he was going ahead of them to Galilee (Mark 16:6-7). 

But even that wasn't enough for the Eleven to cause them to believe. No, it took Christ coming to see them personally for their eyes to be opened and see that all they had hoped & learned through the Scriptures was true. But hey, at least they got it eventually, unlike the chief priests and elders who paid off the guards to spread the story that the disciples came in the dead of night & stole Christ's body to give the illusion that he rose from the grave (Matthew 28:11-15)... I told you they're very thorough.

"This is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel [...]," declares the Lord;

"I will put my law in their minds

and write it on their hearts."

[...]

"For I will forgive their wickedness

and will remember their sins no more."

Jeremiah 31:33-34

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son,

that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world,

but to save the world through him."

John 3:16-17

So while it may not take a grand jury, perfect political timing, or an extensive general counsel's office to grant you a pardon, do remember this: your forgiveness doesn't come without a price. The Son of God came here to this place full of everything that Heaven is not to teach us a new way of life through his light & truth. During his time here, he demonstrated for us that the two greatest commandments were truly something to live by, to love God & love people. And then one day around the Passover Feast, he fulfilled every prophesy and scripture about the Christ in the Law of Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms by being crucified & rising again three days later. 

He loves you that much. To die for you, and to bring you a new covenant with God full of grace.

**Most of the story came from Matthew 26 & 27 and Luke 24

the cameron: a ghost of a dream

For about two hours yesterday, husmate and I were living in a beautiful dream of home ownership. 

It was a blissful dream full of mortgage payments and manageable HOA fees. A brand new condominium that would have been all ours. Never before lived in {heck, not even built yet}. Five blocks from the metro station. A newborn residence project right in the heart of the booming Old Town North. We would even be able to decide a few of the details. Some were standard, like hardwood floors, marble countertops, & spacious closet space. And you know, a heart can soar or break over the size of closet space in big city dwelling {I kid you not, my southern friends}. This apartment would have even met the ever-elusive LEED standards. A dream, I tell you, a fantastic dream!

But then we awoke from this dream, just like we tend to do. Slowly, like the grains of sand trickling from an hourglass, the tiny flashes of details vanished {like furniture arrangements & paint colors}, and eventually all we were left with was the ghost of a floor plan. 

The time isn't right for us to own a place yet. But one day... Until then I'll just live in my imagination and consider adding an addendum to the section in Ecclesiastes about time:

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

a time to search and a time to give up,

{a time to buy and a time to rent}

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Upon reflection, buy vs. rent is probably a bit worldly for such a meaningful section, but I think it goes a step further on the whole "search and give up" bit. Regardless, it is not time. But I know that the Lord's plan will reveal itself to us when it is time, and what a sweet time that will be.

He has made everything beautiful in its time.

He has also set eternity in the hearts of men;

yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

I know that there is nothing better for men

than to be happy and do good while they live.

That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil--

this is the gift of God.

Ecclesiastes 3:11-13

*for reference, a 650-750 square-foot apartment around here goes for the same cost as a two-story brick house in our home states. I kid you not. 

& in case you missed last week:

remember the time...

late night ramblings: a society too big for its britches

note to self 

recipe for the BEST chocolate chip cookies

late night ramblings: a society too big for its britches

So despite the fact that technology has always been an integral part of my life {thanks mainly to the generation I was born into}, I still have my days of sighing "Woe to you, internet. You devilish can of worms. You, dear one, have spurred on wayyyy too much, too soon."

Yes, yes, the internet brought about the information age {every answer you could possibly need at the touch of your fingertips!}, a better chance at equalizing education standards across the country {one day kids born into poverty could be smarter than those well to-do kids in the northeast}, & just plain ole curiosity {why does the rain in Spain fall mainly on the plain?}. 

BUT, as usual, the internet came before its time & with it came all sorts of new (albeit, late-blooming) issues: hazy/nonexistent governing laws, the slow death of brick & mortar stores, the noticeably missing taxes that would have come from the brick & mortar stores, & the inability to understand any sort of spelling/grammar rules {we can all act like e.e. cummings and never capitalize any words ever again! look at me using these fancy brackets rather than using parentheses- muahahaha take THAT MLA}. 

Surprisingly, however, my biggest issue with the internet is something much less tangible: its ability to redefine standards for generations to come {my second is spelling errors/spawn of abbreviations born from the instant messaging days, but that's beside the point here}. The big bad wolf has tricked us all into redefining the phrase "instant gratification." We now seek a deeper relationship with our iPhones & computers than we do with the company of friends or family. In fact, my dad directed me to this article in which the writer fully expected all communications to take place via text/twitter... even conversations with his parents/sister (to the extent that his father called & left multiple voicemails, and the writer refused to call him back. His father eventually heard the new standard of communication via the writer's sister and now the family mostly talks on twitter). I wish I could tell you that I was kidding, but I'm not...

This instaworld that we all live in & conquer is going to our heads, folks. We (I'm included, don't worry) would rather wish a person a "happy birthday" on a facebook wall than send a card. Speaking of cards, we've pretty much abandoned the whole postal system for our germ-covered battery-powered phones. Oh, Gutenberg! And the whole reading a book thing? Yeah, that's a dying art, too {sigh}. All for what? Instant gratification.

We, humans, expect everything NOW. We're all turning into little versions of Veruca Salt from Roald Dahl's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. We can't be bothered with talking in person or on the phone anymore, gotta text! We can't waste time going to a {gasp} bookstore, must purchase kindle versions. Psh, why buy a whole album when we can buy the two songs that we actually like? Our little instant gratifications are running a lot of our little American-run businesses straight into the ground, and we don't even care. Because we wanted it in that exact second, & we got it. And we're building our own little kingdoms and keeping everyone & everything else out.

And for the daily double, this information age of ours doesn't have an off button. It goes 24/7. It runs during family dinners, last minute cramming study sessions, & even during friend hang-out times. We think that because our connectivity to this magical world of internet & communication is never ceasing, that we should use it unceasingly. We no longer walk on the street or drive a car just to walk or to drive. We talk on our phones, we text, we write ourselves memos, emails, blog posts, we read BREAKING NEWS tweets. We are our own little PR reps constantly tethered to a coded world, rather than the natural world, because we can't miss anything. And it never stops. We've created a monster & it's turning us into monsters, too. We're slowly constructing walls brick by brick around ourselves that isolate us from the humanity we once knew.

We have come to the assumption that our time is terribly terribly important. And it is, don't get me wrong, but what priority level are we really classifying our time? My time is not so important to forget to say please or thank you, to ask people how they are, or to even hold the door for a stranger. My time is not so important that I can't move on the sidewalk to let someone pass me or smile & talk with the person ringing up my groceries. My time is not so important that I won't help a kid enter the metro station using his fare card or give a lost driver directions around our neighborhood {I'm a southerner, old habits die hard, thank goodness}. 

My time is not so important to forget that I am a child of my dear King & that my time here is supposed to be spent obeying and praising Him, not mindlessly following the world. I don't want to lock myself in a self made tower and forget my purpose. My time is not my time; my time is His time. So I'm going to be more intentional, and not get so caught up in this labyrinth of being redefined. Because I don't want to wake up one day and forget who I am. The real me, not the internet presence me or the greedy need-more-now me or the one-man-is-an-island me. Me, with a lovely tangible life full of friends, family, a husband, and a concern for the greater good.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.

I do not give to you as the world gives.

Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."

John 14:27

{end scene}

be still

You often hear people say that life is a funny thing. And it is. It's a wonderfully confusing and funny thing. I've been composing my thoughts on this post for awhile, but I suppose it's time to finally put pen to paper, so to speak, and share why it is I've entitled this blog "Be Still." 

Until midway through college, I always had a plan for my life: College > Med School > Join a practice > Start a family > Strike a balance of work and family > Survive > Retire. And this plan had been intact for a very long time, so much so that it included a back-up plan of majoring in bioengineering, just in case plan A didn't work out (got that? just in case).

The first kink to my plan came one summer when I was shadowing all the different medical specialties and realized that none of them fit me. AHHHH whatdoIdonow??? Have no fear, almost every doctor I shadowed presented me with a new plan: dental school. And it seemed just perfect: great for women, more manageable hours, actually be a part of the family you helped create. Okay, great: new plan A. 

And the modified plan A was going well until it came time for my application to be turned in senior year, and I had just one question left to answer: why do you want to be a dentist? That's a good question... to which I had no answer. I mean, yes, I could have fibbed it, but I was more plagued with the idea that I had no idea why I wanted to pursue this path.

So, my boyfriend at the time suggested a piece of advice that I had always shied away from, nay, slammed the door on: why not take a year off after college to figure out my life plans?

And so it came to pass that I jumped off of my plan A (head first it seemed like). It took me about a week to realize that I had always treated my life like the opening scene of Aldous Huxley's Brave New World. I had placed myself on a conveyer belt that had already decided all of my life's fate from its start: at metre 152 I would enter university where I would major in biological engineering, at 321 I would study my entire life away in a library (good ole Mitchell Memorial!) so as to maintain my good marks, at 467 I would graduate and attend a post graduate program, at 683 I would somehow find a person who could put up with my eccentricities and manage to date him while slaving away at my doctorate, at 894 I would finish up my residency, and finally, at metre 1000 I would complete my goal & get a job, get married, and begin my life. Be strong, be independent, be confident. And the sad part is that all along the way I know I would have channeled the Director in that scene by saying "charming, charming" the whole time. 

So I kicked myself off the conveyer belt of Hatcheries & Conditioning, and I let life go on. And things I would never have predicted happened. That boyfriend proposed to me, me, the girl who everyone else counted on not getting married until she was 30 (including the girl herself). I graduated & moved back home (definitely was not in the picture) to plan a wedding. I got married & moved to a place 13 hours away from the only city I've ever called home. And I still don't have a clue what I want to be when I grow up. Life is a curiously funny thing. 

But all those things that happened because I jumped ship have been a wonderful blessing. The marriage thing is an obvious one, but even moving home made my life better. I got the opportunity to really appreciate & love being with my parents, aka the roomies. It was the first time that I wasn't a preoccupied student taking up space in their house, but rather a (dare I say it?) peer that saw them for the caring people that they are. And it was probably the first time that I realized all the pressure I felt in college came from a central location: little ole me. 

So here I am admitting to you that I don't know where I'm going in life. For a girl who always had a plan growing up, it takes a lot to admit that. I've always had such pride in my progress & my plan, but boy, can that pride be such a hindrance. It has taken me many months to break that down and realize that it's okay that I don't know. That the question mark hovering over my head is more of a friend than a foe, & that faith (and patience in that faith) is the only thing that will get me through this period of self doubt & unrest. 

One night during one of my all night study sessions, I stumbled along Psalm 46 which reminds us that though the world may be a destructive place, God is always there. We just have to stop & listen:

God is our refuge and strength,

an ever-present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way

and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,

though its waters roar and foam

and the mountains quake with their surging. {Selah}

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

the holy place where the Most High dwells.

God is within her, she will not fall;

God will help her at break of day.

Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;

he lifts his voice, the earth melts.

The Lord Almighty is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress. {Selah}

Come and see the works of the Lord,

the desolations he has brought on the earth.

He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth;

he breaks the bows and shatters the spear,

he burns the shields with fire.

Be still, and know that I am God;

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth.

The Lord Almighty is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress. {Selah}

Reading that psalm made me realize that my little plan for myself never allowed me to rely on my faith. What a worldly human I can be! I mean I know that God finds me funny in the way that I'm clever & weird, but he must have had a field day when I realized that my plan was so insignificant compared to His. I know I'm hilarious, Yahweh, keep on chuckling up there! 

And since that sleepless night, Psalm 46:10 has become something of battle cry for me. Every time I start to get down on myself, I recite those comforting words. Sometimes things get so drastic that I even write a small 46:10 on my hand so that I'll see it constantly. The answer will come. One day. Because my God has a plan for me, and always has. It included me falling metaphorically on my face, so that I could see His world that I was missing. His plan. 

But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,

whose confidence is in him.

He will be like a tree planted by the water

that sends out its roots by the stream.

It does not fear when heat comes;

its leaves are always green.

It has no worries in a year of drought

and never fails to bear fruit.

Jeremiah 17: 7-8

So I'm being still. And waiting. 

lifetime guarantees

John 3:30

Have you ever noticed how easy it is to run life on autopilot? To get into the rut of a routine and never really notice? And then hark! out of nowhere, you pick your head up from watching the sidewalk you're walking or the road you're driving and you remember that this is a big world that you live in & other wonderful things live in it. It's as if your very own trumpet angel is heralding you to notice the beauty of your surroundings: the cardinals flying in & out of the leafless trees, the sailboats on the river, the pansies on the walk to town. Why is it that we always think that there will be time later to acknowledge the wonder of our world? Why do we always wait?

I think partly it has to do with surrounding ourselves with things. Creating our own little kingdoms of treasures full of beautiful trinkets, trendy clothes, & the latest gadgets (which inevitably get updated every few months these days. Sigh). We are full blown consumers who think we can buy our happiness in little splurges here & there. We check the warranties & guarantees on everything and keep a mental catalog of products whose guarantee lasts 5 years, 10 years, or gasp! even a lifetime. But have you ever stopped to wonder what your guarantee is? 

Oh, that's right... You don't have one, and neither do I. So don't you think it's funny that we humans care more about whether our pots and pans have them than if we do? Because you know what? You only get this life to live, and here's the kicker: there's no guarantee to how long it may last. 

These are things that I know as facts, but I often forget as my reality. It's easy to forget that this life is not my own, and I was not sent here to worry about grocery lists, household chores, or weekend activities. My sole job is to glorify the God I love, to praise him in everything I do, & to live this life to the fullest by sharing & abiding in his love with as many people as I can. That is my lifetime guarantee. Because once this life ends, a greater place of peaceful existence is waiting for me, & I finally get to hold the hand of my Creator. And that will be something truly beautiful. 

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth,

where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.

But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven,

where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

No one can serve two masters.

Either he will hate the one and love the other,

or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other.

You cannot serve both God and Money.

Matthew 6:19-21, 24


{and fingers crossed, I outlast my Calphalon}

it's a mad world

We live in a broken world. It's almost as if someone has taken a hammer and smashed it into tiny little fractures that would make even Humpty Dumpty's situation look favorable. While that overview is bleak, it's really quite simple: since the fall of man, our world has been riddled in sin. Anger. Hate. Greed. Lust. Envy. Doubt. Cleverness. Fear. And pain. Lots of pain. This is what the world is made of, and we humans (or rather our flesh) inhabit it. 

The challenge of the world is not to outsmart it, but rather overcome it. Patching up our hearts with love and filling them with Hope. And having unwavering faith in that Hope which allows our spirit to overcome our flesh. 

Tragedy strikes and the first thing we ask is "why?" Why would someone do something so horrific? So sinister? What could possibly be their motive?  To put it simply it's pain, and it was never our burden to share until it was too late. 

I've never felt so heartbroken in my life until today. The wonder and innocence of so many children were stolen this morning and that's something we can never get back. I know this story will turn into a platform on gun control, but how terrible is it that it took the loss of almost 2 dozen children with tremendous potential to get that one going? Not even the shooting of a congresswoman could do that. Are we that desensitized? But the real takeaway from this situation should be love, not politics.

I've seen a lot of coverage on the issue of getting stricter gun laws (and I'm not totally against it), but the counterargument of if you take away guns, tragedy will still happen is quite true (reference Matthew 2 if you need proof from a relevant story). We live in a broken world. Perhaps the issue that is not so easily recognizable is that our culture has slowly over time kicked out God. We can hardly do anything anymore without worrying about stepping on people's toes or offending others, and I'm right there in the middle of it. I have never wanted to push an agenda on anyone. I'm a firm believer in listening to others and I generally play the moderator between sides, but it has become increasingly clear to me that we can't keep doing this. We also cannot shove scripture (especially fearful excerpts) down people's throats as a way to evangelize.

It's an uphill battle for sure, but we're called to love on ourselves and others. Love as God has loved us. He recognizes the utter pain and horror of having a child be bullied, threatened, and killed. He did that to himself for our atonement (1 John 4:8-10), and he still shows us grace everyday for the stupid things we do whether intentionally or not, and actually forgives us so long as we seek it.

So despite the fact that it is Christmas and I cannot possibly fathom the pain of losing a child, especially one who still believed in the wonder of Santa, remember that it is Christmas and God sent us his son as a sign for us of the Hope to come.

This is a time to come together. To pray. To hug your loved ones and be thankful for your blessings. Nothing is certain in this world. Not the weather, the economy, or the politics. Our world and even our country is so incredibly divided, but this is a time to close that divide. Love on each other, I beseech you!

Breathe in, breathe out

After what seems to be a wacky few weeks around here, I'm thoroughly looking forward to a weekend of being still. And strangely, I don't think I'm the only one who feels this way. 

Being in the lucky portion of the northeast (Northern Virginia), we experienced the days off in anticipation of Sandy without any of the consequences. I still cannot fathom what those poor people in New Jersey, New York and the surrounding areas are experiencing. Being from the south, I know what hurricane clean-ups entail, but they usually are accompanied by 70+ temperatures immediately following. Imagine losing everything you have (or even just losing your power for 2 weeks) and also receiving freezing temperatures + a 2 foot blanket of snow from a sister nor'easter at your feet, too. 

To add to the mania, we have half a country in jubilation over the re-election of our president and the other half who is still steaming at the ears and spouting out hateful comments. I have even witnessed a few saying that this is the end of times and crediting the Mayans for their portrayal of December 21 as the deadline of sorts. You guys, breathe. 

Now that we live in a world that hides behind social media as a way to speak for ourselves rather than by our actions (and I'm not talking about actions like the riot at Ole Miss), we forget that our integrity stands to lose by the 140 character tweets we send out and all the like buttons on Facebook that we click. 

As Americans, we should be so lucky to recognize that we have the best democratic process in the world. We had a record turnout at the polls (to which I am so proud), and the decision was made. Now, we as Americans need to respect that decision, even if we don't agree with it. We need to come together as a country, rather than remaining divided in our trenches; if not to state the obvious, what good will come of such negativity anyway?

As Christians, it's not our place to judge another's Christian belief. I'm astounded by the flagrant remarks berating our re-elected leadership, including the occasional use of the phrase "antichrist." Whoa, buddy. The Lord has a greater plan, and we have to trust in it. Rest in that. It is all we have ever had in this world anyway. Hope in Him, and his plan for us. Besides the fact that our words truly are precious, and since we are called to bring others to the light, remember that the same mouth is speaking words of love for Christ and hate for others (Matthew 12:33-37).

So back to how I started this soapbox of a post, I'm quite looking forward to just being this weekend. I'm hoping to hike with my sweet husband and experience some of God's glory in his creation this weekend. Nothing recharges the spirit like some two-on-one with the outdoors and the Lord. 

A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck

I'd say it was inevitable that the first few lyrics from Guys and Dolls' "A Bushel and a Peck" popped into my head as husband and I embarked on one of our highly anticipated Virginia adventures: apple picking. Inevitable because my mother is all about some Broadway music and my father taught me the art of knowing one line (on the occasion, sometimes two or three) from famous songs and being able to hum it flawlessly on cue when the wording was applicable to the circumstances (hence, apple picking... bushels and pecks... nerd alert). And hum it I did... all. day. long. 

Anywho, husband and I ventured down a few weekends ago to Markham, VA to the beautiful  Stribling Orchard. And our first orchard experience was nothing short of perfect: lovely weather, hot apple cider, and bountiful apple trees galore. We were like kids in a healthier candy shop picking wayyy too many apples for two people to consume, but boy did we have fun! Definitely an experience that everyone should try if they get the chance, but be warned, bring a tall person along to do the actual picking (thanks husband- you're the best!).

I'll admit I was kinda bummed that they didn't have my favorite type, Pink Lady/Cripps Pink (those really are the best in my oh-so-humble opinion). But they certainly had plenty of other types to fill in the void... MacIntosh, Red & Golden Delicious, Granny Smith, Jonathans... and certainly a few I've never heard of before, like Rome Beauty and Stayman. 

But isn't it incredible just how many different types of apple varieties there are? It's just another of God's complexities that really gets me thinking how BIG his design is. Despite the whole Eve giving the biblical poisonous apple to Adam thing, God still provided numerous types of apples, types that each have their own purpose whether it be for cooking, baking, cider, etc. And yes, I realize we humans have cultivated and created our own types from the originals but still, isn't it incredible that He gave us more than one? And let's be honest, if He had given us only one, it would probably have been the gross cafeteria-friendly Red Delicious. 

If God has the insight to mastermind the blueprint of today's 7500 types of apples, isn't it a wonderful relief to think what he has planned for each one of us? Ah grace, how blessed we are to be covered in you. 

"But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,

whose confidence is in him.

He will be like a tree planted by the water

that sends out its roots by the stream.

It does not fear when heat comes;

its leaves are always green.

It has no worries in a year of drought

and never fails to bear fruit."

Jeremiah 17: 7-8 (NIV)

Oh! And what orchard experience isn't complete without a yummy caramel apple? So totally the best fall treat ever. And if you were wondering, yes, I did give husband the messy job of taking the first bite into the caramel. He's such a keeper. 

Called to Love

Presidential election years always present me with a strong case of emotions. A whole heaping basket of them, but one of the big ones that sits in my stomach is fear. And to be honest, it's not fear of who gets elected, but rather fear of what our country and our people are becoming. Election years tell you a lot about people. And I mean all sorts of people: family, friends, employers, colleagues, strangers in the grocery store, people on the news. 

Haven't you ever noticed that things get tense during an election year? It's like we, as Americans, get prepped and ready for a year of war. We all draw lines in the sand and point fingers and offer ultimatums of sorts. The cable news stations become a battleground of words. Words of hate and insults and half-told truths and slanderous lies. Some of those words have a basis of fact and have been twisted into incredible tales. Others have no truth to them at all. 

And the worst part is we all listen to these words. We take them and mold them into our own and then we become the ones saying hateful things about people we don't know. Terrible things that we don't bother to fact check or even doubt because surely everything that is said on the news is factual. 

Haven't you noticed the direction that pretty much all of the candidate ads are running? Lucky me, I now live in a swing state, so every other advertisement run on TV is talking about the election. All of them have some backing of a super PAC or special interest group, and none of them help me to know who to vote for. All they do is incite fear or anger and further divide this country into three sides: one to support each candidate and one for those in the middle. And the sad thing is, other than at the debates, pretty much all you'll hear out of our candidates is undermining words about each other.

We are becoming a people that think it's okay to be disrespectful towards others. We've gotten to the point now that if our candidate doesn't win, instead of standing behind the chosen leader, we lurk in the shadows and slander him for four years until we can elect someone to replace him. And guess what? It doesn't stop there. The boundary for disrespect is never black and white. We, as humans, live by example, so all the time we spend disrespecting a candidate teaches us and others that it's okay to disrespect other people, too. Generally the ones that aren't like us in any way.

We as Christians are called to love, not insult, not belittle, but love. And in this case, love is a synonym for being encouraging, just, and respectful. We are fortunate to have the privilege to live in a country that accepts people for who they are, what they believe, and what they look like. It's a country of freedom in almost every sense, and it truly is a beautiful and rare thing. And we as Christians are called to love on all those people (in that tricky "love your neighbor as yourself" bit (Mark 12:31)), even the ones that don't look or think or act the way we do. I know it can be easily forgotten, but Christ hung out with and loved on everyone, especially the ones whose voice was never heard (lepers, prostitutes, the blind, children, etc.), and He called us to do the same: to share his word and his love with all of the peoples (Matthew 28:19). 

We should also remember that Christ clarified one day that what one eats doesn't make him "unclean" but rather what he says (Matthew 15:11). So all I'm asking is to mentally wash our mouths out with soap and remember our character and respect for others in these last weeks leading up to the election. Our votes may be important, but our integrity and duty to love one another are infinitely more so.