Summer Break

I'm on summer break from school right now and will be far from technology for most of it. Instead, I'll be working out, getting a tan, eating more than anyone should, working at a camp, and traveling to Kenya. But as soon as I get back to school in August, I'll have so many ideas collected that I want to spill to my readers that you will be overwhelmed with information. So, please, don't give up on my blog. Go back and read from days past, and stay tuned until the end of the summer. You'll be glad you did; I'm sure of it!

Today

Today, let me right the wrongs of the world. Every last one. Let me hold the new life wrapped tightly in a nursery of the orphanage in Nairobi. Let the tiny fingers grip around something softer than neglect. Let the sun burn my skin as I play hopscotch with a child whose friends were picked up from school on time. Let me forget my studies to hug the struggling student.

Today, let me right the wrongs of the world. Every last one. Let him talk to me until his hopes are truth, solid as the hammer in his hand. Let her complain until her fears in the custody trial, which keep her awake all night and at work all day, are yesterday’s memories, not today’s migraines. Let my ears be used to soothe.

Today, let me right the wrongs of the world. Every last one. Let me become friends with a girl who sells her body because no one else ever found her heart worth their time. Let me give freely to thieves. Let steel and iron entrap me if it means I have talked with a prisoner.

Today, let me right the wrongs of the world. Every last one. Let me sell my favorite dress to serve a warm breakfast to the hungry and homeless. Let me sit on a cracking concrete curb and listen to their thoughts and learn. Let me learn. Let the autumn chill fill my thin clothes. Let the rain fall onto my uncovered mind. Let me love them by knowing them, not just by watching the news.

Today, let me right the wrongs of the world. Every last one. Let me drive for hours to be with a friend. Let wet tears drain down my face in place of the ones she covers beneath her sturdy faith. Let me resurrect above the dark grave of the one she loved and show her the bright blue sky hovering over the rich green of earth.

Today, let me right the wrongs of the world. Every last one.

Serendipity

I had not planned on blogging tonight, but I must share what God just did for me. I prayed often today. I wrote the prayers down; it's one of my favorite things to do. I simply could not stop talking to God today. Something lay heavily on my soul that needed addressed even in its obscurity.

When it seemed impossible for another sentence to be produced by my weary mind, I turned to Scripture for a refill. My suite mate had mentioned Proverbs 27:14 to me earlier today, and I had jotted it down to look up later. I flipped through my NLT to find it, but instead of Proverbs 27:14, I accidentally stopped at Psalm 27:14. Serendipitously, the verse was almost identical wording to the words I had dripped into my journal an hour before. I frantically turned to the first of the chapter and began reading from start until end, a starving child devouring a feast. Each verse answered a prayer need that my heart had expressed throughout the day -- prayers for patience, prayers for protection, and prayers for power. God had been listening. Now, so am I. Listen.

The Lord is my light and my salvation --
so why should I be afraid?
The Lord is my fortress, protecting me from danger,
so why should I tremble?
When evil people come to devour me,
when my enemies and foes attack me,
they will stumble and fall.
Though a mighty army surrounds me,
my heart will not be afraid.
Even if I am attacked,
I will remain confident.
The one thing I ask of the Lord --
the thing I seek most --
Is to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,
delighting in the Lord's perfections
and meditating in his Temple.
For he will conceal me there when troubles come;
he will hide me in his sanctuary.
He will place me out of reach on a high rock.
Then I will hold my head high
above my enemies who surround me.
At his sanctuary I will offer sacrifices with shouts of joy,
singing and praising the Lord with music.
Hear me as I pray, O Lord,
Be merciful and answer me!
My heart has heard you say, "Come and talk with me."
And my heart responds, "Lord, I am coming."
Do not turn your back on me.
Do not reject your servant in anger.
You have always been my helper.
Don't leave me now; don't abandon me,
O God of my salvation!
Even if my father and mother abandon me,
the Lord will hold me close.
Teach me how to live, O Lord.
Lead me along the right path,
for my enemies are waiting for me.
Do not let me fall into their hands.
For they accuse me of things I've never done;
with every breath they threaten me with violence.
Yet I am confident I will see the Lord's goodness
while I am here in the land of the living.
Wait patiently for the Lord.
Be brave and courageous.
Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.

My Time

Since I have not typed a single word onto this site in over a week, any regular readers I may have had are probably giving up on me right about now. This lack of inspiring insight to share does not spring from a lack of learning. I have been learning greatly, but it comes in blurbs of information -- facts that may be too short to entertain the blogging audience. I enjoy the sentence-long epiphanies, but even when I attach all the blurbs, they seem fragmented. I could elaborate on any one or two of them, but then they would not stand alone as well as they already do. So, if free association bothers you, you should probably go to the next blog. However, if you would like to read through my fragmented thought processes, you are welcome to try. I am literally flipping through my sacred notebook and pulling out the sections that follow. This is a privilege and probably will not happen again. Be glad you found it today.



What if I write everyday, and it's all in vain?
What if my fingers permanently cramp around the pen, but no two eyes ever really grasp the words?


I feel as if I have been separated from beauty itself for far too long. This is effecting my poetry. I need spring.


I want to live in a city at least once in life.


When do I get quiet enough that I can hear a poem before I write it.


Why do people say "a-whole-nother?"


I want to minister in downtown Greenville.


I want to take a water bucket and drippy soap suds into the middle of the worst places and wash the dirty hands and faces of the world's poorest children.


My notebook is burgundy. Burgundy is such a serious color. Where have all my cute poems gone? I need to switch to my polka-dotted one. I need bright photography -- the kind that makes me live it out and write it out.

Don't Just Pretend

My small group from Seacoast Church read part of Romans 12 last Sunday. I had studied the entire book last semester, but chapter 12 always stands out. So I decided to focus on Romans 12 throughout all of last week. I read it over and over. I purposely chose not to single out any particular verse until the end of the week when I had become familiar with the text again, or else the entire chapter would be marked and highlighted. Instead, I wound up simply circling the enlarged number "12" at the start of the chapter, and only underlining the one verse that would not give my conscience a break all week long. Romans chapter 12 verse 9 still stands out on the page:

"Don't just pretend to love others. Really love them."

I read the line countless times last week. This chapter had already warned me to "Be honest in your evaluation of yourselves," (v. 3) and to "Let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think" (v. 2), so I prepared myself for a breakthrough and a change.

I love my friends and family. They make me laugh. Thoughts of them make me smile. Sweet memories bring tears to my eyes. I love them. I am not pretend-loving anyone. I have done that before and by no means recommend it. My care is genuine.

Still, the second half of the verse stirs my curiosity -- "Really love them." Maybe I am not falsely loving anyone, but am I really loving them? The word "really" is an intensifier. Is my love for others intense? It's real love, but is it to the full extent?

And how far does that type of love stretch? Does my love stop with my close friends and family? The word "others" encapsulates anyone outside of myself. Do I love strangers, really? Do I love acquaintances, really? If the love I possess is not pretend, what am I doing to prove its reality? Learning to really love is vital to the lives of believers, for Christ Himself declared, "Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples" (John 13:35).
What is love to the fullest extent? How can I stretch it? By "genuine affection," (v. 10) by "taking delight in honoring each other" (v. 10), by "always being eager to practice hospitality" (v. 13), by "never being lazy"(v. 11) and by "serving the Lord enthusiastically" (v. 11) .
So I went back to honest evaluation. How enthusiastic am I about the Lord's work? How genuine is my affection for the hurting and lost? How hospitable am I allowing myself to be? How madly in love am I with everyone else in the world?

"Don't just pretend to love others. Really love them." -Romans 12:9

Tinted Windows

I like to sit on the passenger's side
And stare out my window
Into the windows of the cars passing by.
A silent couple with a baby carrier in back.
Two tattoo-ridden college men screaming in black.
An old couple, we flew by, I nearly missed.
A man alone dressed for business.
Our windows are tinted to prevent it,
But if they could see through,
What would they think of me and of you?

The Touch of Christ

I realize that today is Good Friday, the day when we reflect on Christ's world-redeeming crucifixion. I did that today. I even visited a cathedral in downtown Charleston for their Good Friday service.

But I was not focused so much on Christ's death today as I suppose I was supposed to be. I was thinking about his life.

I wonder, if I were to die today, and my closest family and friends began digging through all my possessions and reading all my writings -- things that no one really sees but me -- would their views of me change? What would they think of my thoughts? What would be their favorite things to remember about me?

If I had been family, friends, or even acquaintances of Christ while he was on earth, what would be my favorite memory of His life after His death?

For the soldier whose ear Peter chopped off, what did it sound like when Jesus healed it?
For the man who had been blind his whole life, what was it like for Jesus' hands to be the first thing he ever saw?

He touched so many lives then. Now, He uses his followers to make Christ-like memories for others. What are we doing?