To the woods!

 These are some photos I snapped over the week-end! We saw a MOOSE!!!

This weekend I traveled out to the beautiful Colorado mountains with my parents to close down our family cabin for the winter season. Our cabin is nestled in the mountains of Taylor Park, a namesake of which I am very proud. This place is my sanctuary: surrounded by pines and a few scattered aspens, perched on a hill overlooking a pond and river, with mountains saluting our land from across the road. I love this place. I will be completely cliché here and say that if home is where the heart is, this place is most certainly my home. When I drive up the gravel road, turn a corner and see our hammock, our elk racks hanging on the garage, and the variety of birdhouses and feeders my grandma has decorated the outside with, I can barely contain my joy. I take a breath of the pure mountain air and I feel filled, despite the thin atmosphere. When I am here, my thoughts echo Thoreau: “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

My dad taught me to fly-fish out in these streams, and I am convinced there is no greater feeling than when that trout strikes the line, you reel him in, and land your prize on the bank. It’s an altogether unique form of bliss; rivaled only, for me, by rocking a baby to sleep. Kansas has its own form of beauty—probably the most beautiful sunsets around, but the woods and mountains are enchanting. I love feeling like a hermit in our cabin. I’ll cuddle up with a blanket and cup of tea by our wood-burning stove and think, “this is the life.” When I am here, I forget everything that worries and plagues me back home in my everyday life. I read books, wander through the woods, scope out wildlife, laugh with my loved ones, and lay on our deck to observe what seems like millions of stars. I don’t think about where I’ll be in a year—if I’ll have a job, if I’ll have a love interest, who our president will be—I am completely thankful for the present moment.

Sometimes I fantasize about completely abandoning the real world and escaping to the woods as Thoreau did at Walden Pond, away from the constraints and suffocation of society. When my mind turns toward this course, I’m reminded of the movie Into the Wild, which I believe was first a book based on a true story. In this movie, a young man completely abandons his life and escapes to the wilderness of Alaska, where he believes he will find life’s true meaning. He meets a variety of people along the way, including an old man father-figure that makes me cry every time I watch a certain scene in the movie. He ends up eating some poisonous berries and slowly starves to death. As his life slowly and agonizingly ends, he is confronted with the conviction that “happiness is only real when shared.” I don’t want to turn my back on the world or the people I love and seek the wilderness to fulfill me. The truth is that it gets to be extremely isolating and you feel alienated and insignificant. In the bustle and chaos of the world, as well as in the stillness and tranquility of the woods, my one constant is that Christ is alive in me. He has rescued me from sin and death, and living a life to honor him does not involve rejecting the world and all the lost souls in it; quite the opposite, actually.

Note: I wrote this blog while I was at our cabin, and while we were there my parents received a phone call informing them that my “poppy” (my mom’s dad) had a stroke. It is almost a year to the day that he had his first stroke, and the news made us immediately pack up and head home early. As I looked at his picture on the wall of the cabin holding a monster of a fish, with that bright, huge smile, I prayed. I asked what I’m sure all people ask God in moments of crisis. I prayed for peace, for his protection, for God’s will. My dad prayed, and simply said, “God, we trust You with him.” That’s what it really comes down to. In moments of helplessness and fear, you can either trust God no matter the outcome, or let the fear and worry overwhelm you. I’m so happy to report that my beloved poppy is doing much better, and I give all the glory to God.

Shout out to my metaphysical homies

Probably no one knows this about me. Well, maybe a few of my fellow English majors, but not my family or closest friends. They would say, who are these mystery men you're obsessed with? There have been times I have tried to introduce the special people in my life to the greatness of these men, but I don't think I've gotten through to them completely. So I hope you read and appreciate a poem from this genius of a man, whose words feed my soul. Without further ado, I give you, John Donne.

A VALEDICTION FORBIDDING MOURNING

AS virtuous men pass mildly away,
   And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
   "Now his breath goes," and some say, "No."

So let us melt, and make no noise,
   No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;
'Twere profanation of our joys
   To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears;
   Men reckon what it did, and meant;
But trepidation of the spheres,
   Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers' love
   --Whose soul is sense-- cannot admit
Of absence, 'cause it doth remove
   The thing which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined,
   That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assured of the mind,
   Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
   Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
   Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so
   As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show
   To move, but doth, if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,
   Yet, when the other far doth roam,
It leans, and hearkens after it,
   And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
   Like th' other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
   And makes me end where I begun.

You're so nice...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wYWv_NSBZQI
This is going to be a stereotypical single gal post. My apologies. This week was just one of those weeks where the whole "content with being single" mindset flew out the window. It happens from time to time. Let me be clear: I am not the type of girl that sits around reading Victorian novels listening to sad British pop music, writing in my journal about my longing to find true love. Now, I won't say I haven't ever done that, but it's not a habit. Anyway, this song came on my shuffle one day and it pretty much summed up the way I was feeling. This isn't just a song for the single, but maybe for the brokenhearted or rejected. I'm not trying to depress anyone, but I love the lyrics in this song because they are so honest and straightforward. I can tell she didn't sit down to write it hoping for her gloom to be translated into poetic genius. She just wrote what she felt, and it resonated with me. There's someone out there that I wish knew when I meant two sugars I actually meant three. One day... Sometimes being alone feels just fine, and other times, it leaves a bitter taste behind.

Forgotten God

It has certainly been a long time since I've written on my blog, but sometimes something occurs in a conversation, or is observed during reading, that must be shared. Last night I attended a Hindu temple for a class as part of a cross-cultural religious experience assignment. My roommate Becky came as well as my friend Rachel. We customarily removed our shoes and sat on the floor of the "sanctuary" and observed. We watched people bring offerings, pray and worship to the physical representations of the Hindu gods, and meditate while listening to their scriptures from the Bhagavad-Gita.

Though my heart was grieved to witness people offer up prayers and sacrifices to mere objects--lifeless pieces of stone, I was awed and inspired by their religious devotion. The temple is open every day of the week in the mornings and evenings for hours for people to come and go. I am not going to judge the hearts of these people and whether they just go through the motions of making their offerings, praying to their gods, and attending prayer time to check it off the list, when I myself am so guilty of just going through the motions with my faith in The God of the Universe whose Spirit dwells within me!

When we left, we had amazing conversation about the experience. Even during the service, though we didn't speak the language and our beliefs weren't aligned with that of the Hindu religion, it was a religious experience. Becky said that throughout our time there she just prayed silently, "God, somehow...may You be glorified." That is our purpose on earth; so we prayed for these kind, gentle, devoted people who Christ died for, just as He died for you and me.

This experience strengthened my faith, just as sharing The Gospel at Kaleo this summer did for my spiritual journey. The reason I titled this post "Forgotten God" is also because that is what my small group is reading this semester. Francis Chan is one of my top 5 most admired people in this world, and this book has challenged, convicted, and enlightened me on so many levels.

While we were enjoying a sandwich at Jimmy John's after leaving the temple, Rachel said something that her roommate once discussed with her that just blew my mind (sooo many things opened my eyes in that convo). She was talking with her roommate about wanting to ask Moses what it was like to live with God right there with them, showing Himself as the pillar of cloud by day and fire by night, and hearing His audible voice. She thought, how could the Israelites have turned from God when He was right there obviously in front of them?! Her roommate replied how if Moses could ask one thing of us today, it would be what is it like to have God live WITHIN you? BAM. The Holy Spirit lives within us, and I'm not going to attempt to profess any theological knowledge, but He was there from the beginning too, but not in the same way as after Christ's ascension.

All this to say, marvel at the incomprehensible truth that God lives in us when we ask The Holy Spirit to make us His temple. Let's not forget that our God is right here too. Here am I asking how the Isrealites could disobey with God right there, when I do everyday with God living in me! Rest in the beauty of that truth- nothing can separate you from The Spirit because He lives in you. Our God is amazing! Pray that His light would shine throughout the world.

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?...No, in all things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:35-39

Adventure is calling!

I want to see the world. So many amazing places with millions of people and their stories, as well as the history that has built it all. Home is always calling, but the world is calling too! There is joy to be delivered, hope to be spread, and love to give. Short, sweet, and simple: Give. Discover. Embrace. Love. Look & See. Help. Dive in to the story the world has written...there's so much to learn, to see, and to do! Don't be idle, take whatever adventure comes your way daily. :)

A story of faith and courage

I first heard the story of William Borden during a service this summer at Kaleo. I then read about it again in Steve Shadrach's book "Brown Like Coffee." It's a little long, but I just have to share it.

In 1904 young William Borden graduated from a high school in Chicago. As heir to the Borden Dairy fortune, he was already worth millions. As a graduation present, his parents gave the 16-year-old Borden a trip to sail around the world. As he traveled through Europe, the Middle East, and Asia, he sensed a growing burden to reach the lost in nations cut off from the gospel. Finally, Borden wrote home to his parents, expressing, "I'm going to give my life to prepare for the mission field." One of his friends was completely shocked, letting Borden know he felt he was "throwing himself away as a missionary." When Borden heard that, he wrote two words in the front of his Bible:

"No reserves."

Even though Borden was fabulously wealthy, he arrived at Yale University in 1905, attempting to appear like any other freshman student. But soon, his classmates noticed something unique about Borden. One of them wrote: "He came to college far ahead, spiritually, of any of us. He had already given his heart in full surrender to Christ. We learned to lean on him and find in him a strength that was solid as a rock, just because of this settled purpose and consecration." An entry in Borden's journal explained what the other students were seeing in his life. It simply said:

"Say 'no' to self and 'yes' to Jesus every time."

During his first year at Yale, Borden started something that impacted the entire campus for Christ. He challenged a friend to pray with him before breakfast each day, and soon a second joined them, and a third, and a fourth, and others. One of the participants explained, "William would read to us from the Bible, show us something that God had promised, and then proceed to claim the promise with assurance." By the end of his first year, 150 freshmen were meeting for prayer and Bible study each week in small groups. By the time Borden was a senior, 1000 of Yale's 1,300 students were gathering every week for this purpose. He had divided the classes up into smaller groups and assigned key student leaders to reach out and witness to a certain number, with a goal of extending salvation to every student. Borden and his leaders would go over every name and ask, "Who will take this student?" When the name of a hardened or "incorrigible" student came up and no one wanted to take them on, Borden would chime in by saying, "Put him down to me." Young Borden's ministry extended beyond Yale, as he sought to help widows, orphans, cripples, and drunks in the area, forming the Yale Hope Mission.

Borden felt the missionary call to reach out to one of the hardest to reach people groups of all, the Muslim Kansu in China. Once that goal was in sight, Borden never questioned his destiny and consistently challenged his classmates to consider missionary service, even hosting a huge student missionary conference at Yale. Even thought Borden was very involved on campus and served as President of Phi Beta Kappa there at Yale, he chose not to join a fraternity. One student said, "Although he was a millionaire, William seemed to realize always that he must be about his Father's business, and not wasting time in the pursuit of amusement." He never even owned an automobile, and when others asked why, he would casually respond, "Because I can't afford one." But during his undergraduate years at Yale he gave away hundreds of thousands of dollars to Christian ministries. Once he graduated, Borden turned down several lucrative career opportunities. After one especially tempting job offer, he went home and wrote two more words in his Bible:

"No retreats."

Borden instead went on to complete a masters degree at Princeton Seminary, and then newspapers across the nation published articles about this young millionaire who raised his own support to go to China as a missionary. It was 1913 and the entire country was fascinated by this wealthy and gifted young man who turned his back on affluence and comfort in America to risk everything and go to China. On his way there, he stopped first in Cairo, Egypt to study Arabic because he was going to be reaching out to Muslims in China. While there, he contracted spinal meningitis and died a few weeks later in a hospital room--all alone.

When news was cabled back to America that 25-year-old William Whiting Borden was dead, "a wave of sorrow went round the world." His biographer later wrote, "Borden not only gave away his wealth, but himself, in a way so joyous and natural that is seemed a privilege rather than a sacrifice." Many people, though, thought that Borden had thrown his life away. He could have had everything, but instead met an untimely death, they thought, of his own doing. As his associates were packing up his belongings to ship them back to the states for his burial, they found his Bible next to his hospital bed. In the front cover, underneath the words "No reserves" and "No retreats," they were astonished to see the dying Borden has also scrawled two final words: "No regrets."

No reserves
No retreats
No regrets

Although William Borden's life appeared to end prematurely, he had accomplished everything God had planned for him. In his heart of hearts the young 25-year-old millionaire missionary must have reconciled his destiny there on his death bed, making peace with God--and himself. How about you and me? There are a hundred things we could do with our lives, a hundred pursuits for which we could exchange it. But how many of them will enable you to say at the end of your life, "No reserves, no retreats, no regrets?"

Epilogue: The story of his life and early death became a rallying cry for hundreds of college students who ended up spending their lives on the mission field because of Borden of Yale.

Amazing story right? Makes me definitely think twice about how I choose to live today, and what I choose to live for.

Beautiful.

If you had the ability to pray one prayer with 100% certainty that you knew God would answer "Yes" to, what would it be? For Jacob it was to be blessed, for Solomon it was to have wisdom, for the thief on the cross it was for Jesus to remember him. Often our prayers are focused on the maintenance of our comfort, convenience and well-being.

David's answer to this question is found in Psalm 27:4, "One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple." I confess this is probably not what I would have said in response to this question. My request would have most likely been a selfish one. David's one request is to dwell in the presence of God and gaze upon His beauty!

This was the kick-off question in a sermon podcast I listened to the other day driving home. This sermon is entitled "Beauty." It is one part in a series about the characteristics of God. Beauty isn't one of the obvious things we think about God. We think of God's love, mercy, wrath, faithfulness, and sovereignty, but how often do we marvel at God's beauty? Not just the beauty of His creation and the beauty reflected in His other characteristics, but His pure, absolute beauty.

Beauty can be deceptive. Just think of Eve and the apple. Beauty is subjective. The speaker of this sermon talked about how she believes in absolute truth, so is there absolute beauty? If beauty can be deceptive, subjective, and sometimes meaningless, how can we approach it when it comes to God? God is absolute beauty. God's beauty is meant to be enjoyed and delighted in. God is innately generous; we see this in Creation. God's beauty is not subject to our filters. Like his wrath, his jealousy, we can't put Him on trial and decide. His beauty stands on its own regardless of our perceptions of it.

God makes beautiful things. But it's more than just the aesthetics. Here is a piece of contemporary modern art. Modern art is more than what you see. We have to fill in the spaces.

First looking at this piece of art I think that anyone could make that, but there is a story behind it that gives it beauty and meaning. This piece of art is called "Synecdoche" which means things fitting together. It doesn't seem that interesting, but when you find out that each one of those tiles represents the skin tones of people the artist has encountered, it takes on a whole new meaning. It causes us to marvel at the beauty of diversity and our individual uniqueness. It's 422 portraits of people and says far more about each individual than an ordinary portrait ever could. In order to see the beauty of God we have to see beyond the surface. When you see a piece of art like this you have to go beyond the surface.

God takes the mess and works it into something beautiful. That's the Bible's story. That's our story. God writes a story of hope and redemption in the midst of the mess. Hope is beautiful. Redemption is beautiful. God is faithful to his story and to His people. Goodness emerges from the mess we make only because God is beauty.

It's important to recognize we do not own God's beauty. We cannot draw boundaries on what is beauty for everyone else. We don't define God's beauty, we are simply called to reflect it. Because we were created in God's image, we were created to create! Now sadly I'm no artist, but I have come to recognize there are many ways for the unartistic people like me to still reflect God's beauty, and The Word tells us how. Love, compassion, gentleness, humility, selflessness, joy, patience, etc. When we allow the character of Christ to be formed in us we reflect God's beauty.

When did we twist beauty? And more importantly, why? Beauty was created to glorify God, but like almost everything else I think that at some point we got it wrong. What does God find beautiful? Feet that bring the Good News. Breaking our alabaster box with reckless abandon like the woman who did this for Jesus.

Seek and find God's beauty in the mess. Trust that God makes all things new and beautiful. My favorite verse is Ecclesiastes 3:11, "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end." You are beautiful, and the plan God has for you is a beautiful one, even if zoomed in it appears a mess. Look around you...pure splendor from a generous, beautiful God. God's beauty isn't from what He has done or what He has made, but it is who He is.

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