Dynamite: Soaring on Silver Wings

Recently I had the opportunity to soar above the clouds and watch majestic mountain ranges float by beneath me. As I was contemplating the amazing miracle of aerodynamics and the concept of being suspended in the sky, a train of thought started churning its wheels…

If I tried to break a window, jump out of the plane and fly, I'd be pronouncing my death sentence.

If I walked into the cockpit and started pushing buttons and levers because I thought we were going the wrong direction, I'd probably get myself in a predicament, dead or alive, that wouldn't be enviable.

Why? Because I have no knowledge of flying.



Later that week the same thought train picked up speed after reading this verse:

"Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong." {2 Corinthians 12:10}

Familiar? Yes, I'm sure it is for most people. I know I've read or heard it at least a hundred times.
Yet sometimes we never slow down enough to really internalize, really grasp the significance…

I turned to the literal Greek translation of this verse, eager to gain a deeper blessing.
And as I read through the Strong's definitions of the key words, I was struck by the poignancy of this concept.

Allow me to share my literal translation of this verse…

"This is the reason that I take delight in being left without strength, being the recipient of stinging insults, experiencing hardships, being chased and forced into narrow corners and situations for Christ's sake; because it's when I have no strength left that I am dynamite." {Glesni's Literal Translation}

Going back to the airplane analogy, it's when I realize that I can't fly by myself…
when I admit I don't even know how to guide the plane or run the controls…
when I merely sit back and admit that I know nothing — that's when I soar on silver wings.

This is how my life becomes dynamite.

Return from Silence

I've wrestled with many things over the past few months. In fact, I am still wrestling with things.
Life isn't easy. And I wouldn't want it that way.

You always know you're in trouble when the devil leaves you completely alone.

But in the midst of my various life experiences over the years, especially this past one, I have learned some precious lessons. And it's high time I begin sharing again.

Because why keep something to yourself that is transforming your life or has done so in the past?
It all boils down to selfishness, not enough time, not prioritizing. 

I'm not making any promises about blogging every week or every month. I know the hecticity of life and the demands of time far too well.

Rather, I am merely seeking to share thoughts along my journey in the hopes that someone else might be blessed too.

"God trains His soldiers, not in tents of ease and luxury, but by turning them out and using them to forced marches and hard service." – Charles Spurgeon

Is Jesus Enough?

I recently watched a short video that had a profound impact on me. 

So profound of an impact that I'm sharing it with you. 

Because these are questions we need to ask.

Questions I need to ask. Questions you need to ask.

Our world is not the same place it was ten years ago, or even five. 

Events are happening world-wide that should cause us to wake up and pay attention.

It's not time to sleep, my friends. It's not even time to live life as usual.

It's time to seriously reevaluate life and ask yourself some important, life-altering questions.

Is there something in my life that I can't imagine giving up?

It could even be something good. But if it's coming between you and God, something has to change. 

It could be friends, family, a relationship or social media.

Now let me just speak to social media for a quick minute here. This tends to be an area of struggle for me. I'm just being real. It's so easy to become sucked into a vicarious life online. It's easy to waste minutes, and even hours, scrolling up and down your feed, even if it's good things you're looking at.

The question here is this — is this coming between me and God? Do I reach for my phone first in the morning, or do I reach out in prayer to heaven? Be honest…

Where do you spend the best hours of your day?

We all live full lives, right? But our best hours… do we spend them on Facebook or do we spend them before the throne of God? Where are our priorities? When we need a quick breather between studies, do we go to social media, games, music, or do we go to God?

Who or what gets our best time, our best energy?

If everything was stripped away, would Jesus be enough for you?

Would He be enough? Would He? 

Watch the video and be inspired by a man who spent an entire year in dark, solitary confinement with one scanty meal a day and yet would do it again in a heartbeat because it was "like a honeymoon with Jesus." 

This is true fulfillment. This is the essence of the Christian walk. 

And these are questions to the heart. Personal things to work out between you and God.

I have my fair share of obstacles to surmount in my own life. But this one thing I know… 

I want to give up whatever is holding me back so I can have a continual honeymoon with Jesus.

Already Won

It's been a year. I never planned it to be that long. I never planned to take a hiatus at all.

It just happened. Life happened. 

And life is still charging on with no sign of relenting, but I've decided it's time to push blogging a little higher on the priority list. Why? Because I believe sharing is important. 

Because faith lived is faith shared. 

Because thoughts articulated equivocate thoughts internalized.  

I've been reading about the martyrs of the reformation recently. 

Maybe sometime I'll share more. But just this one thought for now.

The battle is already won. 

Why are we afraid to live that way? 

Why are we afraid to die that way?

When Love is Hard to Discern

Sometimes love seems hard to discern.
I mean, the divine love, the God-love.

When you feel that despite your best efforts, your life is out of control.
When you feel on the verge of a physical, mental, emotional breakdown.
When despite thorough studying and many prayers, you get a C on an exam.
When you come down with some variety of bug you picked up on a quick trip to Phoenix.

There are many things that happen on a daily basis that can make you question Love.

But I've found that actually, the reason that love is hard to discern is not the fault of Love.
Rather it is my problem because I have the wrong perspective.

It's like picking up glasses with the wrong prescription and expecting things to be clear.
You'll never see clearly until you have the right prescription.

And so it is with life.

Because when I realize my life is out of control, I run to Him for wisdom, not myself.
When I am on the brink of a breakdown, I cling to Him for strength, energy, renewal.
When I get a C, I realize that it's not the grade that really matters in the end, it's how I handle it.
When I come down with a bug, I'm thankful it's the weekend, and because of it I have a quiet Sabbath.

Through all these I realize that my God does love. Very much.
And these things are but proof of that love.

Love is only hard to discern when you have on the wrong glasses.

"He has given you continual evidences of His love in that He has given you adversity time and again..." 

*The Upward Look, 208

No More Airplane Mode

There's nothing like taking time to just disconnect from the outside world and enjoy family and nature. And that's exactly what I did this weekend. Bliss.

On one of our hikes up the mountain, Kiera and I decided to do some cross-country hiking to a little lake across the mountain bowl. Mom and Dad stayed behind and watched us from the mountainside since Dad's still recovering from his broken ankle.

As we made our way down the rocky slope and into the first of several valleys, we strove to keep our eyes on our goal, but as we dipped further and further, it became harder and harder. Soon we were just heading in what we thought was the right direction.

We continued on our very undulated trek and finally climbed the last knoll to find that we were quite significantly above the targeted lake. Although no harm was done, we did lose a chunk of time descending to the pristine little lake.

When we finally returned back to the mountain where our parents were waiting, I realized that Mom had been trying to text me when she noticed from her eagle eye perch that we were cutting up too high. I, however, had put my phone on airplane mode to save battery, and thus didn't see her messages. Because I didn't have my phone connected, I was unable to receive her guidance even though she desperately wanted to give it to me.

As I was reflecting upon the whole adventure later, it struck me that God must feel the same way. Here we are, down on this little earth. We don't have great perspective on our journey. Yet God can see everything from the end to the beginning, and sometimes He sees us cutting a little too high, or a little too low. And it pains Him because He so desperately wants to guide us.


God wants to save us time and possible misfortune, but unfortunately, the majority of the time we tend to have turned our "phones" off during the day and don't maintain the full-bar connection that we should. We don't memorize the Bible so that God can send us "texts" throughout the day by bringing scripture to mind. We don't put a high enough value on receiving minute-by-minute updates and counsel from our Ultimate Guide.

I have been challenged to rethink about how I go through my day. I need less time connected to my phone, and more time connected to my Maker. No airplane mode with Him. I want to keep in full service today!

My Question is Why

It's been a long time since my last post. And I've been traversing the country and world between now and then. I've learned a lot of things. Maybe I'll be able to share some of them sometime…

I've met many people this summer between ASI and YD and GYC Europe.
Some were old acquaintances, some were new.

I was privileged to hear many of their stories. Many were filled with life and joy and hope. But I also listened to accounts of broken heart after broken heart, broken home after broken home. And as I did, one question haunted me…

Why?

Why am I so blessed?

Why was I born into a Christian home?

Why was I born in a country of religious freedom?
Why have I escaped the all-too-common broken heart syndrome?

Why was I allowed to homeschool without authorities knocking on my door?

Why do I live in a home where my parents still love each other and love me even after 23 years?

Why am I so blessed?

I've pondered that question the entire summer.

The truth is, I've been blessed, not because I'm more special than any other individual on the planet, not because I've merited it and not because my parents were good people.

I have been blessed for this reason only…

…that I might be able to live my life to bless others without distraction.*

"Freely ye have received, freely give." {Matthew 10:8}


* Note: I do face personal trials and struggles on a daily basis, but all are relative when you compare them with the Cross. 

When God Goes Home

I climb out of the car after driving home from a week away. It's hard to be so close, yet so far.

The evening settles in. I am home. And I couldn't be happier.

We talk and we laugh and we share. 

We are family. 

Yet my mind begins to wander. 

I picture God in an empty heaven. 

(One person can make a place empty, you know.)

His Son has been thirty-three years away from home.
(I hope I never have to experience that.) 

Yet when Christ ascends and steps through that portal, excitement rebounds off of every galaxy, every constellation. 

He is home. 

But He wants me to experience His home too. For me to call it my own.
Because when God goes home, He says He cannot be completely content until I'm there too.

He watches me down here. 

I'm so close, yet so far. His heart yearns. 

And I ask myself, How earnestly do I long for that home?

Fire Dweller

Fire.

It seems to be a common theme when discussing the Christian journey. 

I have frequently experienced it in various forms in my life.

But of course, my "fires" are all relative. 

I'm not suffering from cancer.

I'm not in a dysfunctional, abusive family.

I'm not malnourished, neglected or unloved.   

And I don't take those things for granted. 

I am very grateful. 

To me, "fires" always punctuate life. 

It's just something to expect. They come and they go. 

I had a change of perspective this week though in that regard. 

I was reading through Isaiah 33.

"Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire?"

Dwell? Really? Not someone who just experiences fire every once in awhile?
Someone who dwells in the fire?

The description continues…

Walk righteously. 

Speak uprightly. 

Despise oppression. 

Hate bribes. 

Avoid hearing of bloodshed. 

Close your eyes from seeing evil. 

Sounds pretty saintly to me. 

Sounds like a description of perfection. A description of God. 

Then the familiar promise is given.

"He shall dwell on high: his place of defense shall be the munitions of rocks: bread shall be given him; his water shall be sure."

And you will see the King in His beauty. 

Wait, this promise is for the fire dweller?

How did I not realize this before?

In order to receive the promise, I must hold my half of the bargain. 

Fire must become my lifestyle. 

I must become a fire dweller. 

Then I shall see the King in His beauty and be fed from His hand.

Gift for the Minion Girl

"Therefore [because I am to be a beacon on a hill] the Lord is waiting to bestow kindness and favor on me despite the fact that I am His inferior. He arises to shower compassionate love and mercy upon me. He is a God of justice. If I wait for Him, I will find happiness." {Isaiah 30:18, my paraphrase}

I blink twice, trying to absorb Hebrew meanings.

Hello? This is me He's talking about.
Me. His little minion girl.

The girl who falls and makes mistakes.
The girl who gets herself into trouble with her choices
The girl who is trying but so often falls short of God's ideal.

Yes. The very one.

God is waiting — patiently, anxiously, longingly waiting.
Waiting to give me every good thing, every kindness, every favor that heaven could bestow.

Yet it's a two-sided agreement.
He waits for me. I wait for Him.

Waiting is best rewarded in solitude.
"Quietness and confidence shall be your strength." {Isaiah 30:15}

I must wait more.

A Father's Love

[written a couple weeks ago]

I toss. I turn. I pray.

My pillow grows wet with tears.  

I have a friend on the line. 

And I am desperately clinging to the feet of Jesus. 

Desperately. 

Hours pass. And yet I wrestle. 

And suddenly I am struck by this thought.

If I can so love, be so invested in one individual, if my heart can feel like it is breaking for one…

What does my Father's heart feel like when He has seven billion people to cry for?

I'm thankful He loves. I'm thankful He cares. 

And I'm thankful He sees where I do not. 

Glorying Fool

Bondage. Beating. Shipwreck. Stoning. Lashing.
Pain. Hunger. Thirst. Cold. Nakedness. Weakness.

From one travesty, misfortune, hardship to another. The list goes on.
Perils by sea. Perils by land. Perils by robbers, countrymen, heathen and city dwellers.

I have two questions. 

One—who could possibly endure all these things?
And two—how could anyone end such a list with gratitude?

Paul did.

And on top of a list a mile long, he also suffers from his "thorn in the flesh."
Yet he proclaims that Grace is sufficient. That strength is found through weakness.
(And through infirmity, and reproach, and persecution.)

And he calls himself the glorying fool. Because he refuses to abandon gratitude.
I marvel this man who possesses indomitable gratitude.

May I be such a one.

Just Trust Me…

Three weeks ago my ideas were different. My plans unaltered.
I was organized. Everything was under control. It was all laid out perfectly (or so I thought).

But then things started happening.
And all of a sudden, within one week, I found a bunch of my plans flipped on their heads.

Dead end.

And I felt myself straining a bit at the reins. Because my personality likes to be on top of things, be organized, have things under control.

I hear a still, small Voice.
Just trust Me…

But, of course! Of course all things are really in the hands of His Majesty.
Yet sometimes, despite all the evidence from the past, I forget.
It's unfortunate. And it's unnecessary.

And so for a short while after each thing arose, I questioned. I wrestled. I surrendered.
But within me echoed and reechoed those simple words.
Just trust Me…

And so I trusted Him to see where I couldn't. Because obviously I didn't understand.
And He did. He always does…
I'm the slow one. The blind one.

And now looking back only a couple weeks later, most everything has already been resolved.

This week my A&P teacher overrode the system to get me into her class for fall semester.
The microbiology teacher said I can probably get into her class and lab too.

And all that after I wasn't able to register for the classes I wanted.

The Phoenix convention center was able to accommodate my date change. 

My other GYC-related meeting was rescheduled despite conflicts at both ends.

The family of one of my volunteers is going to be in the area exactly during our site visit.
And all that after my GYC site check and meeting plans had been unexpectedly interrupted.

And God's voice echoes again.
Just trust Me.

Poured Out [The Filling]

There she stands, her frail body framed by splintered doorposts, her face covered with salty tears. Her body shakes in silent sobs. Life seems to be giving her nothing but sorrow.

Her husband is dead. Her house furnishings have been taken by greedy creditors.
And besides that, now they want her two beloved sons.*

Yet the prophet asks a simple question. Gives simple instructions.

She returns to her home, shuts her door. In her hands she holds the cruse of oil.
It is her last link to hope. And she dares to hope.
She dares to pour. And pour out freely.

And in that one action, a miracle is wrought. A new future is born.

--

Somehow I see my heart in that cruse of oil.
Just enough to start a stream. But not near enough to keep it going.

Yet when I dare to pour, dare to pour out my life freely, a miracle is wrought.
A new future is born. New life springs forth.

In the pouring out, I am filled.

* 2 Kings 4:1-7

Today: A Gift

Birds chirp merrily outside my window, a tiding of spring.
New life will soon be bursting forth beneath melting snow.
Little seedlings sheltered indoors are pushing their green heads toward the sunlight.

It's a promising time of year.

Yet in one week I hear of birth, of death, of sickness, of sorrow. My heart is full.

So often we take things for granted, life especially. 

We don't stop to think that we might not wake up tomorrow.
That we might be in an accident next week.
That we might contract a serious disease next month.
That we might not live to see another year.

There is that possibility you know…

And I've been struck afresh with this one thought.

Live each day as if it were your last.

Redefining Balance

Balance is something the entire world struggles to maintain. I know I do.
We talk about it. We read about it. We post quotes about it.

My question is, how often do we live it?
And what defines living a truly balanced life?

But why should I write about it again? Go read it here.

Beneath the Fog

I gaze out large picture windows to the frosted world beyond. Fog is frozen in time.

Everything is covered with tiny crystals just waiting for a shaft of light to set things sparkling.
It's a wonderland of beauty.

It's a world of potential…

Thoughts swirl softly. These snowflakes of the mind quickly absorb all external sounds as I contemplate life…

There seems to be a parable gazing back at me through the window.
A parable of my life. A parable for me.








This fog? Sometimes it grows thick, enshrouding me in a gray blanket. I cannot see the mountains in the distance or the sun above the clouds, yet I just have to trust they are there.

Then the fog freezes, and I shiver as crystals form. It seems my life has gone from bad to worse.  I'm stuck beneath the fog while icy fingertips paint me with the ice of trial.

Yet when the fog lifts, sun pierces the clouds and I am set sparkling. And I realize that the freezing fog was what made me beautiful.

God creates jewels in foggy shadows.

He calls me His jewel.

Perspective.

It's all how you see it.

And I'm realizing that lately I've been looking from the wrong perspective. 

It's easy to get stressed or frustrated or discouraged when all you see is the here and now.
When schoolbooks and assignments pile high and additional responsibilities add to the mountain.
When it seems like you are just barely making it from one day to another, one week to the next. 

But last night in the quiet of the evening I saw a glimpse of hurting hearts, pleading eyes, thankful smiles.
And I was reminded why I'm here and why I'm doing what I am.

Perspective changes everything.

Asian Aid: Giving Hope Today (video)

A Different Dream

Sometimes I wonder how it can be so hard to let a dream die.

Just when you think you've come to the point of full surrender, of letting go, you wake up and realize that deep within the dream is still there. Suppressed maybe, but very much still there despite all heart-searing efforts to remove it.

It's an interesting feeling when your heart plays tug-of-war. One half sings. The other half cries. Yet in the end it knows what is best. It knows what will hurt least in the long run.

And that is to surrender. To let the dream die.
Because the dream was never mine to cherish in the first place…

In fact, no dream is mine to cherish.
No dream but One.

And so I pray a simple prayer.

Lord, make my life Your dream. And make my dream, You.

Photo Credit: Michel Lee

Ideal World

We are walking down our driveway treading gingerly over icy patches. And as the brisk air turns cheeks to rosy red, we dialogue. It's just the two of us, mother and daughter, surrounded by pine trees enclosed by gray sky.

My mind is full. Thoughts dart back and forth like a confused colony of bumblebees. I feel as though my life is falling apart, yet I remind myself that it is not. It just feels like it.

And as I expound on my feelings to my patiently listening mother, she starts to smile. I've always been a perfectionist, and this is no exception. But somehow I've lost perspective.

Her words gently bring me back to reality as she articulates those very things I need to hear.

I want to live an ideal life in an unideal world. And I realize that what I think is "ideal" really isn't realistic. Yet there is perfection in every step of the journey, and I must learn to love each chapter of life He brings.

So I am seeking to simply do my best and not rake myself over the coals wishing I could have "done better" when in reality I have already done my best. Because this is just another one of the devil's traps, convincing me that I am compromising when God says perfection is in the journey. It's easy to forget experientially, but I'm learning.

God looks at the heart, not the checklist.

And when He is in my life, my world is ideal.