Bring the Rain

• Being close to the highway, and able to get anywhere in 15 minutes. 
• Being close to Kristen’s, so I can ride whenever I want. 
• Having a big backyard for Luka. 
• Having landlords that love Luka and play with her when we are gone. 
• Having a huge bedroom with sliding doors to our porch. 
• Having our own office big enough for both our desks. 
• The new kitchen we installed ourselves. 
• Having parking spots for both of our cars in the driveway. 
• The awesome linen closet.
• That our landlord had a snowblower. And used to plow a path for Luka to go to the bathroom when it snowed. 
• Being in Topsfield, able to get to the co-op or the fairground for cool things that are happening. 

Things I will NOT miss about living here: 

• The really small fridge. Like really, we can only shop for half a week at a time. 
• The inability to access our attic storage without asking our landlords if we can walk through their house. 
• Walking through their home to do laundry.. weird. 
• The fact that we can hear every movie they are watching, and TV show. 
• That they can probably hear everything we do. 
• The weird toilet… I don’t want to even explain. 
• The lack of storage in the bathroom. 
• That our kitchen table is in our living room. 
• Lack of accessible storage. 

Wonder how much worse or better our next place will be. And wonder when this moving will end. Not a fan of moving three times in one year. 

God is sovereign, and He was in control of this situation as well. We are moving because He can glorify His name in whatever happens. I truly believe this. So He will put us where His name will be glorified, or in a way that He can show that He is in control, and we do not rest in our own strength.

Odd my brother has to move out as well, of his place in Boston. 

about having to move yet again, but knowing that God is faithful and will provide somewhere where we may glorify Him. 

Love is not an affectionate feeling, but a steady wish for the loved person’s ultimate good as far as it can be obtained. —C.S. Lewis

Thanks, C.S. Lewis. 

Reading this reminds me that I can say I love my friends, but if I don’t tell them about Jesus, which I think is our ultimate good, how can I be truly loving them at all?

Thoughts thoughts thoughts. 

I am also SO aware of the fact that I was a ridiculous idiot sinner in high school, too. I wish I could go back and relive those years and just … be gracious. And loving. And humble. And more like Jesus. 

I can’t. I can’t go back and change things. I hate how many friendships I ruined by being just plain idiotic in high school. How many people I wish I could apologize to. And yet, how silly would that seem now, 8+ years later? 

And I wonder how many of the friendships that were ruined now seem silly to have been ruined at all. By my stupid tongue, willing to say anything, not being discerning about secrets. “We are no longer friends anymore because I alluded to a secret they told me.” Trust is a serious issue. I was not the best at keeping it. 

I don’t want my life back then, my life before I truly knew Jesus. But I want those people to truly know Him too. I pray they will. And I pray when they meet Him, they realize that we are all just hopeless sinners, and I am screwed up just as well. Maybe someday, this will all be redeemed. 

Blue Like Jazz. What am I not supposed to say now that I know all the “right” authors, and pastors, and blogs, and doctrine? Am I supposed to say now how this was a “good” movie “but I have cautions before I recommend it” because of it “doctrinal liberties” and “lack of the true Gospel”?

I am being sarcastic. I just watched it, being that the book is one of my husband’s favorites, and I read it in college. I remember liking it, before I was discerning, before I understand what Truth was. I remember after I became a theological snob (somewhat), thinking that Donald Miller wasn’t who I should be quoting, or reading, or liking. 

And yet. 

The end of this movie really hit me, as I sit here, realizing that I am the biggest hypocrite of all. Who am I, to judge anyone, when I myself am so far gone a sinner? Praise the Lord for His sacrifice, because I know I could not earn my salvation. Never. 

“There is something beautiful about a billion stars held steady by a God who knows what He is doing. (They hang there, the stars, like notes on a page of music, free-form verse, silent mysteries swirling in the blue like jazz.)”

It reminds me of that Hillsong song, “Your voice calls the stars by their name, and whispers them all to their place to testify of Your wonder and grace both now and forever.” 

I feel some things too much, and right now I feel everything too much, wondering how I could go so far into doctrine that I forget that there is so much more than knowing the right thing or saying the right thing. Of course, OF COURSE, doctrine is important, and theology is important. Interpretation is important. But sometimes, I look back at the girl I was when I first met Jesus and fell in love with Him, and I wish time could have stopped in its track. I wish I could have lived there for a while, in the infinite dance with my Creator, in a wonderous stupor with how He could love a poor wretched sinner such as myself. Before I started thinking, subconsciously of course, that my knowledge of Scripture now somehow delighted Him, and I found favor with Him because I could tell you what John Piper thought about just about anything. 

I don’t want to be that first man, who goes to pray and thanks God that He is not like the unbeliever, unknowledgeable in his ways. 

I pray I will always be like the second man, saying “Have mercy on me, a sinner. “

That is what I learned tonight from “Blue Like Jazz.” Even if it is not cool to say so. 

“One day two men went to church to pray.

The first man was a shallow, uninformed evangelical. Everything about him shouted of squishy theology. He didn’t know or use big theological words. He watched Christian TV and thought it was deep. He bought books from the inspirational section of the bookstore. He attended one of those megachurches where the sermons are short and the worship leaders look like American Idol contestants.

The second man who went to pray was different. He was a Christian of theological depth and substance—this was obvious by the heavy study Bible he carried with him. He only read books by long-dead theologians. He subscribed to the podcasts of all the solid, gospel-centered expository preachers who didn’t tell funny stories or make jokes in their sermons. He felt cheated if a sermon was less than an hour long.

This second man began to pray. He said, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people—doctrinally ignorant, theologically clueless, superficial in their saccharine-sweet evangelicalism. I thank you that you have made me what I am: true to good doctrine, uncompromising on teaching, orthodox to the core.”

But the first man would not even look up to heaven. Instead he beat his breast and said, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

-Joshua Harris

Humble Orthodoxy

with the woman I ride with… rode for a while and got to chat with my old trainer. So weird, sometimes in some ways things in life end up coming back around.

We probably aren’t going to get the horse, the gorgeous Chestnut mare with legs for miles and a white blaze and two white specks on her shoulder. A canter to die for, and comfy strides. She is a bit ring sour, and we are cautious about her staying sound. 

It’s weird, though, how I can be passionate about things that aren’t Jesus. Is that possible? Is that okay? Can I love horses? I know that I can if it points me back to Him - to the incredible Creator of each and every bone and muscle in the horse’s body, pulling my weight and propelling her forward. 

Is there room in a life that is but a breath to love a creature with no eternal soul? Can I pour into something that does not need to hear the Gospel?

Sometimes, my brain hurts. 

and can’t sleep. I don’t feel so great (sick wise). And I have so much on my mind. I just accepted 2 new jobs. TWO! My goodness. God is definitely providing, but my mind is racing. Can I do 3 part time jobs plus teaching 6 private lesson students, and still help with fellowship, bookstore, and worship team at church? 

I don’t know. Good thing one job doesn’t start until the summer, so that can make it easier. 

Right now, my free time is filled with reading (Bible//Devil in Pew Number Seven//horse things), riding (a horse), and pouring into/praying for 2 specific people that I want to love Jesus. I feel like all of it is tied together in some way, but I can’t really explain how, at least not in a public place. 

Lord, make their hearts into good soil. 

I commented on Michael Gungor’s blog post on doubt with my own story. He responded that he would love to hear what changed for me, which then sent me on a two hour perusal of this tumblr. 

And all I can say, is wow. 

It’s hard sometimes to remember exactly what it felt like to be so lost and confused and scared. I mean, as I read each post I wrote, I remember the feelings and the anxieties and the darkening of my life, the cloud that covered my world the entirety of 2011. 

But it’s hard to remember how it felt to wake each morning feeling like He didn’t exist. It’s hard to remember how it felt to live thinking this life had no purpose. It’s hard to remember how it felt to think He would leave me faithless. 

Because I truly believed He would leave me faithless. I kept telling myself He wouldn’t, but I remember feeling as though I would never have faith again. How could I? Once the slipper slope has started, how does someone get out of it? 

Lord, thank You. Thank You! THANK YOU for getting me out. Only You could! I don’t know how. I wish I could tell everyone a 3 step process, sure fire plan to get out of doubt fast … but I don’t know what happened. I just kept going. I kept living. And slowly, slowly He came back to me. 

How now can I take this for granted? I am careful as I type, thinking almost cynical things about God - “if I type asking Him to not let me take this for granted, He will probably give me my doubts back.” What a terrible thought. But Lord, continue to stir my heart on fire for You. Continue to help me to fall more and more in love with You. Lord, let me strengthen my brothers. Lord, let me help others. 

The last thing I would want is to shy away from people with doubts because I am scared it will spark up some sort of post-traumatic stress from my own year of doubt. And I am not using that disorder lightly… what I went through was incredibly traumatic in my life. 

This blog post is silly. It is not insightful or beautifully written or inspiring in any way. What do you expect at 1:21am?

 it’s a night when tears are boiling just below my eyelids as I write. I feel a fiery passion, a love for Him that I cannot contain, and a fear that I have lost my chance to share that love with someone so dear. 

How am I such a bad witness? Lord, if You would have me be Yours, couldn’t you have me bring others to You in a way that doesn’t say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, be the wrong thing?…. 

My brain hurts and I don’t want to lose this. I want this person to love Jesus someday, so I can share with them, “see, see all the times I prayed for you in my journal, see all the times I pleaded with Christ for your salvation? Don’t you see how much I loved you and wanted you to love Him? Can’t you understand?”

How I so desperately wish that I had a tongue smooth as silk, that could say whatever needed to be said in some a way that draped easily and beautifully, that covered everything in a perfect sheer blanket of soft joy. I wish that every word that came out of my mouth about Him brought repentance and excitement - to me, and others around me. Yet, how do I somehow say something that offends, each time? 

I know the Gospel is offensive. It was made to be offensive. We are sinners. We fail. We are stuck and we need Jesus. But isn’t that beautiful?!! I want to cry out. Isn’t that marvelous? How can something that brings such praise to my lips bristle every bone in the body of someone else? 

Lord, don’t let this be the last chance. I will try, I will not give up, but You need to work. Cultivate this friendship, this relationship, so that I may show this person who You are, and that You may work Your saving grace in her.