And so, the summer has ended just as I prayed it would not. My friends have left for college. Our lives are beginning. We have these empty slates to fill, whole chapters to write, revision isn't an option. Although it felt like I shut the cover of a book, saying goodbye to my best friends, I know I'm merely turning a page and God has so much more planned.
I'd like to tell you a little about the next adventure I'm about to embark on. In a few short weeks I will be leaving for a program called Youth With a Mission (YWAM). The first 3 months of my school (Discipleship Training School) will be a lecture phase in Louisville, Kentucky, of delving into the word of God and strengthening my relationship with Christ. During this time I will also be doing local outreaches, such as afterschool tutoring, helping in homeless shelters, etc. The second phase of the program is Outreach. I will be traveling to another country on a 6 weeks mission trip. The place is currently unknown, but I know God has it planned out just perfectly.
During this time you can support me in two ways. The first is Prayer. Prayer will be a huge support, I ask that you will pray for my focus and growing relationship with Christ. I ask that you pray that God will direct and guide me to the next steps in my life. I will keep you updated along the way of more specific prayer requests.
A second way you can help me is financially. The first half is a pay your way type of thing. But during my outreach phase I will be sending out letters for prayer and financial support. If you would like to receive an update letter, send me your address to my email/facebook.
During the next six months I will keep this blog updated of my travels and adventures, letting you know what God is doing in my life and in the ministries I will be involved in. If you have any questions, send me an email! Thank you in advance for all the love and support I know you do/will give!
Monday, August 26, 2013
Friday, August 2, 2013
Grace
She's standing there, lost and helpless. Like the last leaf that floats off the tree the moment before the icy winter. Yet she scampers off, even though help has arrived, even though her rescue is finally here. Oh how many times I've done this.
Today I rescued a kitten. It's funny how God uses the strangest of circumstances to remind us of such precious truths, to again paint a picture on my hearts of His never ending love for me.
As I was walking through the painful brush, pushing aside limbs that intended to attack me at all costs and ankle deep mud which smelled of oil, I didn't have a clue of what hopeless animal I was about to discover. (I was hoping a cat, because if it had been anything else..) Her cry was so pitiful, so loud, and relentless. And when I finally arrived, she was standing there, lost and helpless. Like the last leaf that floats off the tree the moment before an icy winter hits the hearts of those waiting with such dread. Yet she scampers off, even though help has arrived, even though her rescue is finally here. But with patient love, we allured her back to us and she walked to my outstretched hands. As I was carrying her back home, covered in dirt, I realized this is exactly what Christ has done for us.
He came into the world, walked the dusty roads and felt the painful brush.
Firsthand, he felt the grief of death and the desolate emptiness it brings, he tasted the saltiness of tears and how much they hurt our hearts yet cleanse our souls. He was attacked by the limbs of men who intended to hurt Him, break Him, and murder Him, without guiltily looking back. He trudged through the mud of this dirty world, and He did it without disgust, or ever turning His face aside.
He hears our pitiful and weak cries. We don't even know who we are calling for, but our hearts are broken and empty, so we cry, hoping someone will look past our smiles and save us. And when He finally arrives, in all that holy splendor, in all that love, so gentle, we turn and we run, because so long have we cried, yet so long have we hid our tears. So long have we called for help, but so long have we turned down offer after offer. But Jesus doesn't stop pursuing us, we still cry and we see His outstretched arms. Something inside us tells us to give in, because never before has anyone stooped so low, and so far we were into the mess we have made. So lost, we had given up hope. But there are forces on the outside luring us with temporary fixes. Little do we know how much these damages our fragile hearts.
When she was finally in my arms, the walk home was long, and she was anxious. Occasionally she would cry out. This is also like us. We are finally in Christ's arms, and he says "In this world you will have trouble but take heart I have over come the world." He tells us to wait because He is "Going to prepare a place for us." And we cry out because the wait is long and we just want to be free. We just want this tear-stricken world to end. We long for Home. Yet Christ promises us, "soon, my child, soon."
It's funny the tiny lessons God gives that we can miss if we rush through life.
Grace is a tiny ember,
that floats away from a burning.
This tiny ember floats away from the fire,
landing on unsuspecting kindling.
A heart caught in the unaware.
A heart so dark.
But this ember is Light.
And Light is not bound by darkness,
The ember touches,
makes contact
with the unsuspecting,
and a wildfire is set ablaze.
A wildfire is not contained,
it is not safe,
it is reckless.
Grace is a wildfire.
When caught we're all consumed.
Consumed by Love,
for grace is a whirlwind of love and forgiveness.
for grace is birthed from a mercy,
a mercy that would sacrifice,
a mercy that loves.
Grace returns
when the wildfire grows dim,
when the world tries to dowse our sparks.
Grace lingers
when the darkness attempts to drown us,
but even the smallest flame lights up a room.
Grace is here,
when my heart believes it is me who saves,
it is me who is strong.
Grace is sufficient,
when carrying on feels a mountainous,
impossible task.
Grace is sufficient,
to light up the darkness,
to be merciful,
and to love.
Grace is a wildfire,
and I have been consumed.
Today I rescued a kitten. It's funny how God uses the strangest of circumstances to remind us of such precious truths, to again paint a picture on my hearts of His never ending love for me.
As I was walking through the painful brush, pushing aside limbs that intended to attack me at all costs and ankle deep mud which smelled of oil, I didn't have a clue of what hopeless animal I was about to discover. (I was hoping a cat, because if it had been anything else..) Her cry was so pitiful, so loud, and relentless. And when I finally arrived, she was standing there, lost and helpless. Like the last leaf that floats off the tree the moment before an icy winter hits the hearts of those waiting with such dread. Yet she scampers off, even though help has arrived, even though her rescue is finally here. But with patient love, we allured her back to us and she walked to my outstretched hands. As I was carrying her back home, covered in dirt, I realized this is exactly what Christ has done for us.
He came into the world, walked the dusty roads and felt the painful brush.
Firsthand, he felt the grief of death and the desolate emptiness it brings, he tasted the saltiness of tears and how much they hurt our hearts yet cleanse our souls. He was attacked by the limbs of men who intended to hurt Him, break Him, and murder Him, without guiltily looking back. He trudged through the mud of this dirty world, and He did it without disgust, or ever turning His face aside.
He hears our pitiful and weak cries. We don't even know who we are calling for, but our hearts are broken and empty, so we cry, hoping someone will look past our smiles and save us. And when He finally arrives, in all that holy splendor, in all that love, so gentle, we turn and we run, because so long have we cried, yet so long have we hid our tears. So long have we called for help, but so long have we turned down offer after offer. But Jesus doesn't stop pursuing us, we still cry and we see His outstretched arms. Something inside us tells us to give in, because never before has anyone stooped so low, and so far we were into the mess we have made. So lost, we had given up hope. But there are forces on the outside luring us with temporary fixes. Little do we know how much these damages our fragile hearts.
When she was finally in my arms, the walk home was long, and she was anxious. Occasionally she would cry out. This is also like us. We are finally in Christ's arms, and he says "In this world you will have trouble but take heart I have over come the world." He tells us to wait because He is "Going to prepare a place for us." And we cry out because the wait is long and we just want to be free. We just want this tear-stricken world to end. We long for Home. Yet Christ promises us, "soon, my child, soon."
It's funny the tiny lessons God gives that we can miss if we rush through life.
Grace is a tiny ember,
that floats away from a burning.
This tiny ember floats away from the fire,
landing on unsuspecting kindling.
A heart caught in the unaware.
A heart so dark.
But this ember is Light.
And Light is not bound by darkness,
The ember touches,
makes contact
with the unsuspecting,
and a wildfire is set ablaze.
A wildfire is not contained,
it is not safe,
it is reckless.
Grace is a wildfire.
When caught we're all consumed.
Consumed by Love,
for grace is a whirlwind of love and forgiveness.
for grace is birthed from a mercy,
a mercy that would sacrifice,
a mercy that loves.
Grace returns
when the wildfire grows dim,
when the world tries to dowse our sparks.
Grace lingers
when the darkness attempts to drown us,
but even the smallest flame lights up a room.
Grace is here,
when my heart believes it is me who saves,
it is me who is strong.
Grace is sufficient,
when carrying on feels a mountainous,
impossible task.
Grace is sufficient,
to light up the darkness,
to be merciful,
and to love.
Grace is a wildfire,
and I have been consumed.
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