Tender & Truthful.

Sad. Fruitful. Broken. True. 


I love words. They can be so powerful, so beautiful. There is so much potential in words. I get the same feeling from reading a beautifully written paragraph that I get when I listen to a good song. It can fill me up, give me hope; words have the ability to stir things, to enhance already existing feelings, even if I don't really want them too. 


2011 ends today. EEEEEEEE Ashley is getting married! One of my best friends got engaged yesterday or the day before. I don't know one of those days. They are all running together. This life is moving more and more quickly, it seems. I'm not always sure how to keep up with it. It's speeding. I want to soak it up. I want to be brave in the time I am given. I want to remember the things that matter; I want to dwell on those things. I want to love better. I want to be more kind. I want to be wise in the choices I make. 


I've never really done new years resolutions. Mainly because I've never really understood why there is this huge hype around January 1st. January 1st doesn't change things. I like to think that we can change things any day. There is nothing wrong with striving to be something better, to change, but there is also nothing magical about starting a new year. If I believe what I say I do, then I have to believe that people can change. I do believe that people can change. I guess I've always just been uncomfortable with new years resolutions, because I get this feeling that people think they can only start over when the calendar does. 


Well, I was thinking about all of this yesterday, and so in an attempt to maintain my anti-new-year-resolution-persona, I made some December 30th resolutions. Just kidding. I think resolutions are great. I think goals are good. Things to reach for are a good thing. 


I want to be softer, more tender, more kind. I want to smile more. I want to love better. I want to feel things more deeply. I guess I'll sum it up with tenderness. I like that word. I think it includes a lot of things that wouldn't really describe who I am today. I want to feel warm to people. So there it is. Tenderness. 


Honesty. One of my other, non engaged friends and I were talking the other day about relationships. All kinds of relationships. We talked about honesty and how it can be hard sometimes. I don't tend to flat out lie to people a lot. That's not really a struggle of mine (although I have done it), but I do have a hard time being honest with myself sometimes and with God. 


It's important that I take time to process, reflect, talk, dig. It's important that I do that on my own, and it's important that I have people who will help me do that. It's important that I have people who won't take ____ from me. I don't tend to straight out lie to people, but I will gloss over things, I will beat around the bush, I will make things look just a little bit more pretty than they actually are. I want to be honest. I want to be truthful. We half-jokingly, half-not made comments like, "2012 is going to be all about honesty." I like that idea of that. 


Tenderness and truthfulness. 
Truthfulness and tenderness. 


I have a long, long list of things I'd like to change someday. Right now I'm thinking about tenderness and truthfulness. Who would have thought I'd ever go for the two word exercise on my own. Looks like people really can change. 

Remember spring swaps snow for leaves.

"I know the sad feeling; it's strange that reality can take so long to hit us and when it does, boy does it hit hard...The change is scary and uncomfortable but I know that it has to happen, that it is good that it is happening, that God has plans for us, and that things always have to change if we're going to move forward to meet those plans." Erin Helmly


Phew. That was hard for me to stomach. That was hard for me to hear. Erin wrote that to me a while ago and it was hard to hear then. I just rediscovered it the other day and it hit me all over again. I am thankful for people in my life that see things differently than I do. I am thankful for people with different perspectives and different life experiences. I am thankful that I have people that can speak truth into the areas of my life that I cannot see clearly. I am thankful for the people in my life that tell me what I need to hear and not just what is easy to tell me. That was hard for me to hear, but it was good. It was right. It is right. I want to move forward to meet the plans God has for me, and things do have to change in order for that to happen. So I guess, in a roundabout way, I do want change to come. You wouldn't know that by the way I typically do things, but I know deep in me somewhere I want change to come. At least I know that I want to want it. 


But really, I fight change like it's my job. Any kind of change. I'm not exactly sure why or where it comes from. I'm sure there's some deeply rooted disfunction going on somewhere inside of me that I will explore one day, but right now all I know is that change terrifies me. There is hard change, like saying goodbye to someone or letting go of someone. There is easier change, like moving from one semester to the next, changing my schedule and what my day to day looks like. I know I've written about this before, my tendency to avoid change at pretty much any cost. I guess you could say it's a theme in my life. I think it's good for that theme to be challenged. I know it's unhealthy and I know I don't want to be like this forever, but I feel a disconnect between that desire and the ability to take action, to actually change it. 


It comes down to my desire to be in control. It comes down to my lack of faith. It comes down to the fact that I don't always believe what God says is true. 


Romans 8:28 
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. 


Jeremiah 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."


These two little gems are ingrained in my brain. Thanks Wesleyan. They are where my mind went when I started thinking about God working for my best interest. These two pieces of scripture are written on my heart, but they don't always feel true. It doesn't always feel like things are being made new, and good, like I have hope for a better future, and that is not always easy to ignore or overlook. The fact that he tells me he's working everything together for my good, the fact that he's working everything together to prosper me; why doesn't it always feel like that? What's worse is that it's so much bigger than just me. I can't look at the city I live in and see a whole lot of good being made from bad. There are so many people without a future, without hope. 


I know that I don't yet see the whole picture. I know that there's no way I could know all of the ways he is working and redeeming and making things right. I know that right now I see things like a child, like a poor reflection in a mirror and one day I will see face to face. I know that he's the weaver, not me; he's the one working all of this together to make us better, stronger, more like him, to bring justice to the world. I have this insane notion that I could do a better job if he would give me a shot. Give me the wheel for just a little while and I will make things right, at least for myself and the people around me that I love. I will make things better, happy. It sounds really dumb when I type it out, but you'd be surprised how good I am at rationalizing these things in my brain.


Things don't always feel like they are being made right, new, better. I can't always look at the painful things in my life and see the ways that Jesus is using them to bring me closer to his heart. I can't always see the ways that he is working, but I trust that he is. It doesn't always feel like the plans he has for me are good, but I trust that they are. Things don't always seem fair or just, but I trust that they will be, that he is bringing justice. 


This week has felt long. This week has felt exhausting. This week has felt overwhelming. Parts of this week have felt hopeless. Parts of this week have felt painful. Parts of this week I have felt alone and small and confused. I've come to realize that my feelings aren't always reality. They are real because I feel them, but they don't get to win, they don't get to rule in my heart. I feel these things and they seem so big in the moment, but they're just not. I am not hopeless. I am not alone. I am not small. I am not without a bright future to look towards. I believe these things, and I am thankful for people, like Erin, who speak truth into the areas of my life that I cannot see clearly, who point me back to Truth when I get distracted by my feelings.


I am loved perfectly.
I am redeemed. 
I am pursued hard everyday.
I am made new.
I never have to be without rest and peace.
I am a daughter of the king.
I never have to be without comfort.
I am forgiven. 
I have deep, deep hope.

Hey brother, we're all learning to love again.

your poker face ain't fooling nobody, nobody here

we've all felt the flame and she'd those same tears

driving home to a one man hell, still counting years, still counting years
hey brother we're all learning to love again
'cause that was the real you running through the fields of gold wide open
standing in places no picture contains
that was the real you, windows down, we could smell the mint fields crying
sing with the radio to a song we can't name
that was the real you saying, "maybe I'm not too young to be a cowboy."
hey brother, we're all learning to love again

hey brother, we're all learning to love again

making up your bed that day on a foreign floor between foreign walls
thinking 'bout the words you'd say to a phone that never calls
feel the weight of your father's ring and all those dreams, and all those
dreams
singing, hey brother, we're all learning to love again
'cause that was the real you running through the fields of gold wide open
standing in places no picture contains
that was the real you, windows down, we could smell the mint fields crying
sing with the radio to song we can't name
that was the real you saying, "maybe I'm not to young too be a cowboy."
hey brother, we're all learning to love again

I know you like i know my reflection
walking on the water 'cross an ocean of desire
everyone I know is looking for protection
trying to pull down your hometown 'cross a telephone wire
'cause that was the real you standing there in the shape of your body
fear don't know no love when we're all the same
that was the real you looking back across the water
tears falling like rain drops, rippling against the shame
that was the real you singing hallelujah, looking down a barrel
hey brother, we're all learning to love again
hey brother, we're all learning to love again

-MK

We're all learning to love again. I love that. I know I'm learning to love again, but it's not just me. We've all felt the flame and shed those same tears. All of us.

Today I read out of a devotional book that a sweet person gave me for my birthday. The first line read, "Focus your entire being on my living presence." I also read a little more more of Mark today. It was talking about how no one knows when the last day will be. The angels don't know, the Son doesn't know, the Father is the only one that knows. It talked about staying alert and being on your guard for that day.

Focusing all of me on Him sounds like a lot. If I'm honest, it sounds impossible. Being alert, being on my guard all of the time sounds about as possible to me as focusing all of my being on God's living presence. It sounds good. It sounds like something I'd like to do, but it sounds huge and unattainable.

I started thinking about the people in my life. I was thinking about the people that God has given me, my community, my world. In a lot of ways the people that I do life with are my world. They make up my days. They fill my time. The speak to me, build me up, tear me down, give to me and take from me. I started thinking about ways that I might focus on Jesus in those relationships.

That might be easy to do when we all love each other the way that we should, the way that we were made to. If we all perfectly reflected God's love to one another, it might be easy to focus on him all of the time. God placed us in relationship with one another and I know that is the way it is supposed to be, because I trust that he knows best, but I feel set up sometimes. I feel set up to be let down. There is potential for greatness in those relationships, but that potential seems overshadowed by our inevitable failure to love perfectly. We are bound to hurt one another. We are bound to fail to do the things we ought to do. What am I supposed to do with that?

I made a list of people in my life and the ways that they hurt me; it was easy to do.

I feel... failed, neglected, lied to, belittled, ignored, unimportant, distant, overlooked, misunderstood, pigeonholed. The list goes on. I feel all of those things, but more than that I realize that I have made others feel that way. I have been distant. I have been cold. I have been inconsistent. I have lied. I have been immature. I have been discouraging. We've all hurt someone. We've all done these things. We all do these things every day. We're all learning to love again.

It seems like a distraction. The ways in which I am let down and the ways that I let others down feels like a distraction. How can I be pointed in the right direction in those things? That is not a picture of how Christ loves me. That is not a reflection of this perfect love. Don't get me wrong, I have great friends. I have great people in my life that do love me well. I just mean that no one is perfect. No one can love perfectly, and I have felt tension there. If no one can love perfectly, then how am I supposed to be alert, and how am I supposed to focus all of me on all of him?

The more I've thought about it, the more I've realized that those times are beautiful opportunities. Opportunities that I so seldom choose to take. In A's failure, Jesus succeeds. In B's neglect, Jesus tends to my every want and need. In C's lies, Jesus is truth. In D's distance, Jesus is always with me. In E's inconsistencies, Jesus is constantly pursuing me. In each and every worldly letdown, my savior fills me. He steps in where my world steps out. He completes the things that those I love cannot. He cares for me. He loves me so well. So well. He wants what is best for me, and I trust that. I believe that. I will hold on to that. I will find rest in that. I will find freedom and joy there. That's where it's at, yo.

No one has is all down. We're all learning to love again. If we're living and we're honest, we're all experiencing pain and we're all causing pain. I wouldn't ask for that to change, because those are the times that we learn, that we grow. I would just ask for the capability to not let those opportunities slide by. I want to take advantage of opportunities to see my father's greatness, his perfect love, his perfect pursuit of me. I never want to overlook that. I never want that to become trite.

"... but the end is still to come."

Mark 13:5-8

Jesus said to them: "Watch out that no one deceives you. Many will come in my name, claiming, 'I am he,' and will deceive many. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in various places, and famines. These are the beginning of birth pains.

The end is still to come. I want to live each day as if I actually believed that. I want to live each day with the hope of an end far greater than anything I could imagine. When things hurt, when I am angry, when I am frustrated or upset, I want to be pointed back to this truth: the end is still to come.

It's hard to live with that perspective. I can't even imagine a beautiful end to such a messy story, my story. I see things in me that I don't like. I hate the things about myself that hold me back from loving well, that keep me from being honest, that push me into fear, that take away my joy, my hope. These things seem big. They seem overwhelming in the sense that I can't understand them fully and also in the sense that I can't fix them. I can't make them better. I look at the things within me that hold me back, and I want to give up. I want to call it quits, because there is no way I am going to figure out how to handle those things, and even if I did, there's no way I could manage the pain that would be necessary to do that.

That sucks. I really hate that. I really hate that a lot. That feeling of hopelessness. That feeling of weight pushing down on me. That feeling is there. It's there and more than anything I want to deal with it. I don't want it to go away without me learning from it. I want to be better because of it. I don't want it to go to waste. And I don't think it will.

I don't think that a single tear goes unused. I think that our God is bigger than that. I think that he knows what's best for me. I have hope in that. Even in the midst of pain, there is hope that our hurt can make us more like Jesus. When things don't play out in my timeline, when I seem to be failing over and over again to do what I so desperately need to do, when that last little sliver of hope seems to be fading away, I want to remember that the end is still to come. God, I want to remember that on my darkest days, because that makes me want to be brave. That makes me want to trust in eternal things, and not just what I can see now. That makes me want to smile. That is where my joy is found. That is where peace is. That is where the strength to do good, to do right has to come from.

I get the image from the Passion of the Christ when Jesus' foot comes down on the serpent's head. I want to hold on to that image, always.

The end is still to come. I know that. I know it, and I really do believe it. I really do. I want to believe it with the choices that I make everyday. I have so much to hope in, so much to look forward to, so much to be thankful for. The end is still to come and the end is just the beginning. How cool is it that I get to know that? How comforting is it that I get to be a part of that end? I am thankful for that comfort. I am thankful for the confidence that I can find in that truth.

OUR GSO.

Today was the final day of OUR GSO, the project we have been planning all summer long. It's over. We're done. It feels so weird. I expect to have to get up in the morning and go fill up the water cooler for the day, but I won't have to. I don't think I like that.

Monday we painted at Foust Elementary.

Tuesday we had a neighborhood pick up in the morning, and a furniture drive (CWS)/food drive (Lindley Backpack Program) in the afternoon.

Wednesday afternoon (and Friday) we volunteered with Welfare Reform and then had a cookout at Lindley.

Thursday we worked at the Newcomers School in the morning and hung out with some refugee families in the afternoon playing soccer and eating snow cones.

Today (Saturday) we worked on some projects at Lindley Elementary and had a big cookout afterwards.

It's been a busy week. I am tired. My body is ready for a rest. But I'm also kind of sad it's over. I'm going to miss everyone coming together every day to work alongside each other. I am going to miss painting and gardening and talking to people. I am going to miss the hard work, because it was so rewarding. It feels good to know that I've accomplished something tangible this week, and it's felt good to see our church body unify under one cause this week. I've loved watching everyone serve. Our people are great. I love them. And the people of this city are great. I've loved getting to see more of them this week.

Thank you for your prayers this week. Thank you for your encouragement and support. We had a great week, and I am sad that it is behind us.

Tomorrow is Sunday. Sunday will be like any usual Sunday. Then Monday comes, and the interns plus Todd and Michael are going to Washington D.C. for a few days as our debriefing trip. Sad that things are ending, but happy and excited for the time we have left!

Last office day.

I wrote this part on Thursday:

Today is our last normal day in the office. We still have about two more weeks of the internship, but next week we will be all over the place for OUR GSO and the following week we are heading to DC for some debriefing and and museums and lots and lots of fun. It's strange. I feels like I'll be back here on Monday, but I won't. It feels like I still have a lot of stuff I need to do, people to email, but I really don't. Really, I haven't done a most of my work during "office hours" anyway. When we're all here, we end up talking, watching youtube videos, and other distracting things. Maybe that's why it feels like I'll be back for more. Maybe that's why I can't quite wrap my mind around the fact that this is the last time we will all be here working together. I'm going to miss it. I'm going to miss it because it's comfortable and I like routine, but I'm also going to miss it because I love it here. I love these people, I love how we've set up all of our little work areas, I love that I know I am going to be freezing whenever I'm here and I always have to bring some kind of sweater. I love watching the cats that live in the storm drain outside, I love the dum dum craze that we've been on all summer, I love the time we've gotten to spend together here. Who would have thought that I would miss working in an office? Not me.

Today is Saturday. Tomorrow is Sunday. Then Monday comes and we begin our hectic week of OUR GSO. It's what we've been planning for so long. Our tshirts came in and they are great, at least we think so. I'm excited. I can't wait. I know it's going to fly by though. Whenever I feel the end of something approaching, I always wish I could slow down time, hold on to moments a little longer. Trying to stay present, instead of looking ahead so much. We still have a big week of work, and I am excited and I want to be fully here each and every minute of it.

This week was fun. It was good. I liked it a lot. Everything went so fast, but looking back, it was very full. Last Ultimate Frisbee was on Monday. I will miss that time. I will miss hanging out on the sidelines and talking and cheering on the players. It's a restful time for me, because I don't play. I get to just hang out and be with whoever is sitting there with me. I've grown to like it a lot.

We got to have dinner with the Phipps family on Tuesday night. They live really close to Lindley, the school where we meet, and they are awesome. They have two little boys, Kai and little baby Blayze. Hilarious, adorable kids. It was fun to hear them talk about their relationship, how different they are, and how it kind of works because they are so different. They are fun people. I'm glad they're at Hope. Wednesday, we had our last dinner at the Kimbroughs. They have a really crazy story as well. Tripp proposed to Anna shortly after being diagnosed with brain cancer. And they have two little ones. Their oldest, Ella, wasn't there, but cute little Houston entertained us all. He told us about what he wants his wife to be like. He also went for a quick little swim with all of his clothes on. So cute.

I will miss the dinners. I will miss being fed so well, but I'll also miss the wisdom, insight, and stories we got to enter into each time we visited a new home. It was a really precious time. I'm not sure I realized how valuable it was until they ended. It was a lot to have two dinners every week, but I learned so much from these people.

Yesterday, Griffins's dad took all of us interns to see the last Harry Potter movie. Then, later that night, the five of us plus my friend Kayla, played hide and go seek in the dark. I love that we are all still kids at heart. I never want that to fully leave me.

Church tomorrow. Only three more Sundays left.

Everything moves again.

Remember a while ago I titled a post, "Everything Moves?" I think I did and I think I included lyrics from this song I like that talks about all of the things we pursue in this life and how none of it is constant, none of it can sustain us the way that Jesus can. It starts off talking about being a child and ends talking about being old and something about having brittle bones. It talks about all of the in between places and how we chase after all of these things, thinking that they will bring us life, happiness, joy, hope, and they do. They do bring us these things for a while, at least some of them do, but they all fade. They all wither and die. They all pass. They all move.

This weekend the reality of this summer ending, me going back to state, and starting my senior year has kind of hit me. I'd like to hide from it for a little longer, and perhaps I will, but it's there in the back of my mind waiting to be thought about. I know it's coming. I'm trying to live in the moment, but I can't help but look a few weeks ahead. I can't help but look to see what's around the corner. And it's hard.

Right now I can point to many things in my life that I am chasing after, and I can tell you that they are good, they are bringing me life, and so for me to think about changing and going after different things is scary. One, because I like the things I have right now. I like the people. I like this place. I am growing. I am better than I was when I got here. Two, because change terrifies me. Going back to school won't be that bad. I've got a routine there, but college is almost over. What? Never, ever did I think I would reach the day when I was really, really in the real world. That's a lot of change. A lot a lot a lot.

I know it's good for me to feel like this. Discomfort does not equal bad. It's good for this insecurity to be challenged, because it's not right. Change can be good. It is good a lot of the time. I never even give it a chance. I know through this change I will be forced once again to lean on the one who doesn't change or move.

I pray that as I finish up this summer, move into school life, and then eventually move into whatever comes after school life I would go after the things that bring me life, knowing always that I have a solid, unshakeable ground to stand on that will not, can not, and does not move.

you are a tree always in bloom

you are a hall of endless rooms

a living fountain springing up

I'm satisfied but never done

I'm never done

with you