the bathroom window

it was musty—

mold grew in the basement—

the walls needed ventilation—

closed doors seemed too invasive—

but he knew she had ulterior motives—

it was an old apartment—

he gave her that—

but it was only their first—

not their last—

and he didn’t like being cold at breakfast—

why did she take the latch—

after he was fast asleep—

and slide open the hatch in the bathroom—

she let the moonshine bathe her—

as she stood in the tub—

until her feet grew weary and the snow

melted upon her tongue—

why did she leave it open—

was the eggs on toast question—

she never told him—

she liked to hear the train pass—

as she lay awake thinking.

RL

Stations of the Cross

Following Jesus is supposed to look like freedom. It often does not. We are bound by religious strictures, ordinances, laws, the expected judgement from our backup clique of like-minded thinkers who applaud when we do something their Jesus would do, but throw us into the dirt when we do something Jesus would actually do.

            Over time, we have become mirror images to the Pharisees—the very people Jesus called out and yelled at. We laugh and make jokes about being a Pharisee without recognizing the depth of who we ourselves have become—Pharisees.

Come Soon, Lord

Come rescue our weary souls

From the pits of despair and distress

Come soon, Lord Jesus, Come soon

We wait for you

Come triumph over the wickedness

So prevalent in our worlds

We grow restless with each day that passes

Come soon, Lord Jesus, Come soon

We wait for you to come back to us

Come soon, Lord Jesus, Come soon, O God

We wait for you to bring us back home

There is pain and there is toil

Injustice strikes into the soil

We feel helpless to be a voice

For those in dark chains

Come soon, Lord Jesus, Come soon, Lord

We wait for you to redeem this world

Come soon, Lord Jesus, Come soon, O God

We wait in expectation for you

Come soon, Lord

Come soon, Lord

This ground cries out in desperation

Come soon, Lord

Come Soon, Lord

Our body and hearts lie broken

Thoughts on Church Membership

A few weeks ago I sat down with a friend and we discussed the idea of church membership. I, being a military brat who has never stayed in one church for more than two years, previously has no understanding of why church membership was a valuable component of the Christian life. I thought: why can’t I be a member of the church by merely getting involved in serving and partaking in the community? Isn’t this essentially the same? I’ll probably just be leaving within six months to a year anyway. I won’t be here long enough to become a “member”. My friend, however, strongly believes becoming an official member of the local church you attend is not only biblical but often necessary, and, the next step in the individual-church relationship (hence the DTR metaphor). I peppered my friend with question after question, he pondered, he searched Scripture, and he answered with wisdom and honesty. There are still things I am unsure about, but I did come away with a much better understanding of Why Church Membership?

Wonder

I have a friend. She has embraced the embodiment of wonder as an attribute. She has retained her ability to cry over pain and enter into empathy. She has her cares but she is careless. She knows the world, but she maintains bliss.

I live in a world where wonder is rare and is considered ignorant, naïve, and unrealistic. I live in a world where wonder is frowned upon, looked down upon, and thrown out to the corner to shiver through the night. I live in a world where wonder is so long forgotten, when we encounter wonder once again, we shrivel back in disgust, misunderstanding, and judgment.

I live in a world that tells me and my friend we are too sensitive. I live in a world that mocks us when we break into tears over something that seems frivolous or mundane. I live in a world that has hardened me but seems to have untouched my growing-ever-softer sister.

I used to cry over heartbreak not my own. I used to find delight in the little things. I used to express my emotions externally better than I do now.

My friend has somehow kept delicacy and gentleness and softness about her—this is what I long for. She sees the world through a grown-up child’s eyes. She is not blind to reality or hardship, but she holds an enduring hope for better things ahead and isn’t afraid to seek possibility and opportunity.

When we, the hardened members of this green and blue community, come across something so blissfully sweet, we often respond with hate. We respond to undying love and grace with hate and I don’t understand.

The Path of Peace

           In life, we walk paths. We often think we choose our paths—sometimes we do—but we often have no say in the path our feet tread. There are side paths along the way that lead us this way and that, but there is an overarching path our life is taking. Recently I have been wrestling with God over this idea of the “Path of Peace” my life seems to be on. The life I have led has always been overshadowed by doubt, fear, anxiety, worry, and a thought process that goes a million miles per second and never shuts up—much like the popular device used by Virginia Woolf in her writing: stream of consciousness. I am constantly taking in every detail and thinking ahead and back and in one moment I’m fearful, the next I am questioning, the next I am laughing with my friends. I’m not sure if there’s ever been a waking moment in which I’ve had true rest from this barrage. This is not peace.

            Perhaps you experience this as well. It is exhausting. More often than not, I yearn for a break from everything—the noise, the distractions, the disasters, the crises, the people, myself, but these are still things constantly surrounding my daily basis. The ins and outs of my life are ensconced between constant noise. I also have tinnitus. In my case, this means my ears are ringing and buzzing (sometimes at different frequencies) 24/7. So, even when everything else is silent, I’ve got a constant companion of noise. This is not peace.

            With these distractions, with this noise, it often seems difficult to hear God, or even find Him. However, as a Christian, we are called into peace. The peace that surpasses isn’t a one time offer, or only for special occasions. The peace of God, through Christ Jesus, is a gift we have been given.

            I am learning, through trial and error and a distracted, noise-filled world, to be with Jesus in the moment—in the present. I am learning what it means to be still although chaos ensues, although stress tempts, although anxiety tries to peel my peace away. There is a point in which we, as followers of Jesus Christ, must understand that His peace covers all trial and trouble and heartache and pain. His peace is constant and remains. We can still our souls in His presence at any moment of the day—as we should throughout the day. Because even in the noisy and the busy, when we come before Him, surrounded by happenings on all sides, and step into the peace He has given us, this is where we can hear Him speak ever more clearly than before.

            When I imagine just being still with the Lord, I think of the times Jesus sat around a bonfire with His disciples—with the community—with the little children—and just sitting and soaking in the silence of the moment. There is a beautiful, overwhelming feeling of togetherness that comes from this picture, and, further, seeing Jesus sitting next to me, or walking with me. Sometimes He gets up to play with the children, or He laughs with His friends, or He merely smiles and we cannot help but smile back, because this is what peace looks like. Being. Just being with Christ.

            This is not to say we cannot have peace while we go throughout our day, or while we converse, or while we're in meetings, or during emergencies. I believe we are called to "just be" with Christ in all moments of our life. Meaning, we lay down our defenses and our anxieties, and we are in tune with His love for us and His guidance and will throughout our every day and night. In conversations, in classes, in any situation, we can be present with others and be active in the world, while simultaneously just being with Christ. In Him, we find our peace.

            Will you join me on this path of peace, hand in hand with our Savior and Friend? 

Abba, We Belong To You (a response to Charlottesville)

“Abba, I belong to you.” This lyric, this truth, this proclamation, has been echoing in my mind and heart all day. What a beautiful thing it is to be so wholly loved by God that He came down and died because we cannot save ourselves.

While I resonate with these words, there’s this part of me that wants to sing it with multitudes of voices joining the chorus: “Abba, we belong to you.”

With what has taken place today in Charlottesville Virginia, my heart has been grieved, my mind questions, and I am yearning still to sing this over my brothers and sisters.

Obedience

As the oldest child in my family, it should’ve been my joy and honor to obey everything my parents told me to do and steer miles clear from everything they told me to stay away from.

However, I the only girl of the family (besides my mom); I the only one with a name that doesn’t begin with J; I had to prove myself a force to be reckoned with.

I enjoyed arguing--having the last word was essential because I was obviously right. I had to finish whatever I was doing (probably playing another video game) before completing the task my hardworking parents graciously asked me again and again and again to do. And if I knew there was something I could do to get my brothers in trouble, you can bet I was doing everything in my power to ensure they got what I thought they deserved (sometimes I liken my younger self to Candace Flynn).

Rachel means ewe, or female sheep. Sheep are supposed to follow and obey their shepherd. But disobedience was etched somewhere between the letters of my middle name. A N disobedient N.

Residing in the Faithfulness of God

I liken myself to Gomer, the prostitute wife of Hosea. I relate to Jonah, the prophet called by God who ran away from God. I understand Elijah's depression and desire to die.

So often I cry out to God in silence, wondering where He is, asking Him why I struggle so much with anxiety and fears and unwanted thoughts. What more can I do for you to make me whole again, God? How do I get out of this place of brokenness? I...can't do it--I'm not strong enough.

"I can do all things through Christ, who gives me strength." (Philippians 4:13)

Okay, maybe I'm looking at things wrong. I can't save myself. I can't control my thoughts. I can't just decide to release my anxiety by my own willpower and strength. Only JESUS can. I keep trying to take control, take hold, of my life, expecting everything to be just fine, but I need to submit to the One who has cradled my soul before I ever took a breath.

Why am I so fearful when time and time again God has proved He is Faithful?

It comes down to letting go and trusting God. And my oh my even though our Abba is a GOOD Father and He is LOVE, that is still so hard for us control-freak self-absorbed humans.

We are not faithful beings, but the One Who called us into being, is the epitome of FAITHFULNESS.

"Come to me all you who are weary and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28)

Oh, Lord Jesus, I am so weary of taking my life into my hands, thinking I can control my thinking, and keep everything going smoothly. Help my unbelief, and tear down the walls I have put up so I may surrender to You. I give you my heart, my mind, my soul, and my life--you've had it in the beginning. Please take me and do what you will. Spirit speak to me again, draw me close into a garden of intimacy once more and let your Love and Light and Life overflow. I trust you, Jesus. Thank you for your faithfulness and that You are God and You are GOOD. Amen.

Looking For Beta Readers (for a novella)

I'm an INFJ. This means I'm a perfectionist and hold myself to high standards nobody should have to reach. This is why when I don't reach those standards I feel like a failure. More often than not I don't reach these standards.

I'm also in college. Lately I haven't written much of anything and, as a result, end up feeling not only empty and unfulfilled but like a failure. I know I'm supposed to be writing but it's so difficult to actually do in college. I've started and stopped story after story and felt very much like I've failed when I can't commit to finishing one work in progress but keep hopping from idea to idea, never making it out of the world building or plotting stage, and give up the idea and characters altogether.

It seems I have a bad case of the 'flitters' (stay tuned to future blog posts to learn what this means ;) and I can't stick with just one thing. This is frustrating not only to myself but to others as well.