On my way to work today, I saw a falling star.
At least, I hope it wasn't a crashing plane.
Very much chasing this silly feeling I've been experiencing lately, I made a wish. I laughed at myself for doing it, but the smile hasn't left my face.
I am amazed how the most childlike things can totally change the outlook of your day.
The only drawback? I have a song stuck in my head...
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away...
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Croissant
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Breathing Lessons
It has been a very interesting, wonderful week.
And I'm not used to this feeling at all.
I am bursting at the seams with so much joy that I can hardly recognize myself. I'm not used to being the goofy girl. Yes, some circumstances are still hard but I can't help but hold onto the hope that everything really, truly is going to be all right.
However, with me still being me, doubt rises and I am troubled by my own experience with joy. I'm not used to having it be this way. Will I still have hope if the joy goes away? What if the next breath I take isn't as sweet as the one before? It's hard not to run with this feeling with the fear that it will go away.
I suppose that is the journey--to be in content in every and any circumstance.
But first, I need to learn how to breathe.
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer.
--Paul, Letter to the Romans, Chapter 12, Verse 12.
And I'm not used to this feeling at all.
I am bursting at the seams with so much joy that I can hardly recognize myself. I'm not used to being the goofy girl. Yes, some circumstances are still hard but I can't help but hold onto the hope that everything really, truly is going to be all right.
However, with me still being me, doubt rises and I am troubled by my own experience with joy. I'm not used to having it be this way. Will I still have hope if the joy goes away? What if the next breath I take isn't as sweet as the one before? It's hard not to run with this feeling with the fear that it will go away.
I suppose that is the journey--to be in content in every and any circumstance.
But first, I need to learn how to breathe.
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer.
--Paul, Letter to the Romans, Chapter 12, Verse 12.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Romantic Idealism
I don't know if it is a result of reading too many books as a child, but I think somewhere between all the reading and the thinking, I became an idealist.
Even worse, a romantic one at that.
There isn't anything wrong with that, I suppose, but I find that my idealism gets in the way. Reality isn't as grim as I think it is, and my expectations of how I want life to turn out won't result in the way I hope it should.
I wonder if I keep searching for something that won't exist, I might miss out what it right in front of me.
Silly thoughts. Effects of education, I suppose.
Even worse, a romantic one at that.
There isn't anything wrong with that, I suppose, but I find that my idealism gets in the way. Reality isn't as grim as I think it is, and my expectations of how I want life to turn out won't result in the way I hope it should.
I wonder if I keep searching for something that won't exist, I might miss out what it right in front of me.
Silly thoughts. Effects of education, I suppose.
Monday, December 8, 2008
On Hold
I have an ususually high filter.
I often hold back to spare someone feelings--mine or someone else's. I often hold back because I don't want to be in the way. But mostly I hold back because I don't believe that what I have to offer is worth much of anything.
One of my biggest frustrations in playing the piano is that I feel like I'm constantly holding back. Now, this isn't to say that I'm really awesome at the piano (because I'm not) or because the worship team needs me to play louder (because that isn't always the case) but I am frustrated that I am not able to express what I truly feel.
Now, my current experience with playing with team (which is a different blog) is just an example. This is a common theme with my frustrations in general. I don't express much of anything in my heart and I usually cover it with what is in my mind.
And it is exhausting.
There has to a balance to all of this. I don't want to become a flood of feelings or a droning intellectual. But I'm struggling to figure out how to express and share in a way that glorifies God and stop holding back.
I hope that if I have a lower setting on my filter, I can still be a blessing.
I often hold back to spare someone feelings--mine or someone else's. I often hold back because I don't want to be in the way. But mostly I hold back because I don't believe that what I have to offer is worth much of anything.
One of my biggest frustrations in playing the piano is that I feel like I'm constantly holding back. Now, this isn't to say that I'm really awesome at the piano (because I'm not) or because the worship team needs me to play louder (because that isn't always the case) but I am frustrated that I am not able to express what I truly feel.
Now, my current experience with playing with team (which is a different blog) is just an example. This is a common theme with my frustrations in general. I don't express much of anything in my heart and I usually cover it with what is in my mind.
And it is exhausting.
There has to a balance to all of this. I don't want to become a flood of feelings or a droning intellectual. But I'm struggling to figure out how to express and share in a way that glorifies God and stop holding back.
I hope that if I have a lower setting on my filter, I can still be a blessing.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
On Guard
Guard your heart for it is the wellspring of life.
--Writer of Proverbs, Book of Proverbs, 4:23
I was never really good at guarding my heart.
I don't know if it was a learned trait, or if I had stopped caring, but I have often given my heart to the care of those who had mistreated it. Beat it up. Cut it down. Spoke death to it. Crushed the life out of it. Killed it with kindness that only meant to harm. Shamed it into thoughtless submission. Used it for their own pleasures. Scattered the pieces until there was nothing left of it.
Only by the grace of God do I have much of a heart left.
After a nearly year-long trial (ask me later) I promised myself that I needed to make an effort to ensure that I would guard my heart carefully. I didn't know why I had to, but I held onto the hope that because my heart now belonged to God and is no longer mine, it is no longer my decision to whom I give this heart.
Knowing that, my heart should be in good hands.
That is, until I try to take it back.
The most recent test of this guardianship of this fragile heart came shortly after another test had ended. I cried out to Father God and asked him to help me guard my heart from those who seek to distract me from the life God has set before me. I didn't want to ask him, but I knew that it would be best.
Amazingly enough, (why are we always amazed that God answers prayers?) God let the scales fall from my eyes and I saw the distraction for what it really was. God promises me an abundant eternal life, and that begins now. That is the hope he wants me to cling to. The life he wants me to hold onto is good, and he has a plan for it. And that means that I can't always say yes to the things that I believe I deserve.
It pains me to say no to a "sure" thing, but when I remember that God will protect the hearts that he claims as his, the hurt doesn't last as much as I had feared.
God, my Lord who fiercely loves me, is the only one who would determine those who he deems able to take care of something he claims as his.
--Writer of Proverbs, Book of Proverbs, 4:23
I was never really good at guarding my heart.
I don't know if it was a learned trait, or if I had stopped caring, but I have often given my heart to the care of those who had mistreated it. Beat it up. Cut it down. Spoke death to it. Crushed the life out of it. Killed it with kindness that only meant to harm. Shamed it into thoughtless submission. Used it for their own pleasures. Scattered the pieces until there was nothing left of it.
Only by the grace of God do I have much of a heart left.
After a nearly year-long trial (ask me later) I promised myself that I needed to make an effort to ensure that I would guard my heart carefully. I didn't know why I had to, but I held onto the hope that because my heart now belonged to God and is no longer mine, it is no longer my decision to whom I give this heart.
Knowing that, my heart should be in good hands.
That is, until I try to take it back.
The most recent test of this guardianship of this fragile heart came shortly after another test had ended. I cried out to Father God and asked him to help me guard my heart from those who seek to distract me from the life God has set before me. I didn't want to ask him, but I knew that it would be best.
Amazingly enough, (why are we always amazed that God answers prayers?) God let the scales fall from my eyes and I saw the distraction for what it really was. God promises me an abundant eternal life, and that begins now. That is the hope he wants me to cling to. The life he wants me to hold onto is good, and he has a plan for it. And that means that I can't always say yes to the things that I believe I deserve.
It pains me to say no to a "sure" thing, but when I remember that God will protect the hearts that he claims as his, the hurt doesn't last as much as I had feared.
God, my Lord who fiercely loves me, is the only one who would determine those who he deems able to take care of something he claims as his.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
There's no place like home
I am not a nester.
I actually don't know what that word means. I'm not even sure if it is a word.
In any case, I am not used to having a home of my own. Granted, I live in an apartment--but its mine! Growing up, I lived with my grandparents. After that, I went to college--moved from dorm to dorm. Right after that, I moved in a with a friend of mine. And after that, I spent three years living with a different friend.
This is the first time I have a space that I call my own. It's been about nine months and I still have decorated.
First of all, I don't have a lot to decorate with. Secondly, I don't even know where to start.
Decorating is a foreign concept to me. It never used to bother me until last night when I wanted to decorate for Christmas.
I pulled the few things I have that may be considered festive. As I stood back at my paltry offering, all I kept thinking about was...
...I want more.
I don't have the time, money or the talent to make my home feel like Christmas. But for the ten minutes it took me to put out a few stockings and change a couple towels and a tablecloth, and added more candles on the fireplace mantle, I got bit by the bug for more.
Although I am not likely to invest any more time or money on it in the near future, I realized how excited I was to finally have a place to start making my own. The foreign concept of home is becoming a little more familiar.
It took me 27 years to get there, but its about time that my sanctuary isn't found hiding in a coffee shop.
I actually don't know what that word means. I'm not even sure if it is a word.
In any case, I am not used to having a home of my own. Granted, I live in an apartment--but its mine! Growing up, I lived with my grandparents. After that, I went to college--moved from dorm to dorm. Right after that, I moved in a with a friend of mine. And after that, I spent three years living with a different friend.
This is the first time I have a space that I call my own. It's been about nine months and I still have decorated.
First of all, I don't have a lot to decorate with. Secondly, I don't even know where to start.
Decorating is a foreign concept to me. It never used to bother me until last night when I wanted to decorate for Christmas.
I pulled the few things I have that may be considered festive. As I stood back at my paltry offering, all I kept thinking about was...
...I want more.
I don't have the time, money or the talent to make my home feel like Christmas. But for the ten minutes it took me to put out a few stockings and change a couple towels and a tablecloth, and added more candles on the fireplace mantle, I got bit by the bug for more.
Although I am not likely to invest any more time or money on it in the near future, I realized how excited I was to finally have a place to start making my own. The foreign concept of home is becoming a little more familiar.
It took me 27 years to get there, but its about time that my sanctuary isn't found hiding in a coffee shop.
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