Streams in a Wasteland

Look at me, I'm 23!

I hope the title of this post doesn't sound conceited. Honestly, I don't like when people are looking at me, I just needed something to rhyme haha. Cookie for the person who can come up with something clever that goes with '23'.

As per my usual tradition, a blog post about the adventures of turning a new number will ensue. I feel that the last several of my posts have been about remembrance and I'm about to post another one. Maybe remembrance is the theme the Lord is instilling in me for this season of my life. I guess we'll find out...

Anyways, I'm 23 now which is incredibly weird and even weirder to type. 23. If you had asked me when I was 11 what I wanted to be when I was 23, I would have told you that I would be a famous singer. I would travel the world, live in a penthouse in a bustling city, have lots of classy, sophisticated friends, go to schools in Europe and NYC, become an accomplished musician, wear beautiful, expensive clothing on my (imaginary) slender figure, not the least of which would have been evening gowns for all the cool parties and events I would attend. Somebody tall, dark, and handsome would have probably been a part of the image as well. What can I say? I was a hopeless romantic when I was younger. Don't tell anyone, but I kind of still am.

But here's the reality. I'm 23. I'm not famous, not even a little bit. I didn't even finish real college, much less attend a prestigious university in Europe or New York. The only places I've travelled worth mentioning are Israel and New York. Far from a penthouse, I live in a 4 bedroom home with 3 kids and  5 adults. Most of my friends, myself included, are or were, misfits. I can't afford to buy expensive clothing and I have no where to wear an evening gown. My figure could never be classified as slender and there's no one present in my life who remotely resembles the man of my dreams. Far from an accomplished musician, my skills are slightly more than mediocre.

I think if I had pondered all of this a year or two ago, I would have sent myself into a pit of depression lol. And looking back over what I just typed, there are a few things I read that send little pangs of longing shooting through my heart... But it's not devastating. I'm not heartbroken. I don't constantly pine for all these dreams that I had when I was younger. Sure, getting paid lots of money to do music would be awesome. But at least I have the opportunity to do music at all. God has put me in a place to use what little gifting I have, even if it's just a small part. Heck, I even have several awesome friends who I get to jam with, and I love doing that.

While I didn't go to Harvard, or Carnegie, or wherever else is cool,  I completed the Cosmetology program at MGTC. I know that's not something that a person looking on the outside would consider much, but it took a lot of determination and perseverance to finish that program. Every day was a struggle to make myself go. For 18 months. But I did it. And I'm glad. I also switched my major like a jillion times before deciding to do hair, which was totally humiliating. But you know the thing about being humiliated? It teaches you humility ;)

I've never been to Europe. I do still hope to go one day. But after going to Israel, I don't think that anything else could quite compare. Israel was the most enriching, amazing, fun, wonderful trips I've ever experienced. I loved every second of it. I can't wait to go back. I can't put into words the level of awesome that Israel is. Just go if you ever get the chance.

New York City was a great experience. While I was there I wasn't sure that I would want to go back, but now I know I would love to. The energy is amazing there and so are all the options of stuff to do and the variety of people. But you know what really impressed me? Church. I went to Hillsong Church NYC with my sister and it was one of the most powerful things I've ever experienced. No, there wasn't a rushing wind that swept the congregation. Fire didn't come down from heaven. The lead singers from Hillsong United weren't even there lol. What was incredible was the Spirit. It was so strong in that place. And I'm not talking about a feeling. I'm talking about a presence. When people will stand for an hour outside while it's cold and raining to get to church, when people are willing to stand in a packed, dark room for over 2 hours just to hear somebody bring the Word, you know there's something more going on than meets the eye. When people are less concerned with having a comfy chair, being able to see the pastor and musicians perfectly, and are more concerned with making sure they can hear what is being said, even if they can't even catch a glimpse of what's going on up front, you know the Spirit is there. When people raise almost $1 million for a new building and decide to donate it instead to families who lost homes in a flood, you know something is different. I'll never forget it as long as I live. I remember that the pastor preached on Jesus meeting people through people. To always be ready and alert for what He is going to do because He will use you to reach others. The fact that I can remember what he spoke about a year later says a lot, I think. Incredible, incredible morning. I'll never forget.

I don't live in a penthouse where I can gaze at the lights from on top of a city, but I'm surrounded with the warmth and glow of a family that loves and cares about each other.

My friends aren't famous musicians and actors and models. But they are some of the funniest, talented, and most caring people you will ever meet. Hang out with us for a couple of days and you will get a complete ab workout from laughing so hard. You'll also have a much lighter heart.

I don't have money to buy expensive clothing and even if I did, my hips weren't made for most of the cute outfits that retailers sell :(  But I have more than 90% of the world. And that should be enough to make anyone grateful.

I don't have a soul mate in my life as dashing as Richard Armitage or as funny as Andy Samberg. But I have my best friend, Katie Jackson, and that's kinda the same thing. :P

So, I guess what this all comes down to is perspective.

I could be wrong on this, but I think God likes when we dream and when we share those dreams with Him. Dreams are intimate things. And God is an intimate god, concerned with the intricacies of our hearts. But He's also completely good. Which means He cannot do things that won't ultimately lead to our good. Our calling is to look to Him. See our world and circumstances through heavenly lenses. Though our heart may not change immediately, in time "we will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living."

My goal for this year is simple: to take delight in the Lord. To love Him more today than I did yesterday.

Peace out, 22.

What up, 23.

Sometimes it's difficult to be thankful. Especially as we get older.

We become jaded.

People disappoint.

Life doesn't happen the way we think it should.

We realize just how out of control of our life we really are.

We disappoint ourselves.

We long for more.

It's easy to allow our hearts to grow as cold as the late November wind.

When I allow myself to focus on things that haven't gone my way, instead of acknowledging God's hand on my life, my heart grows hard and cold.

But in light of of the season of thankfulness, in light of the past post on remembrance, I think it's a good idea to place my heart on the hearth of unfailing love, to allow it to thaw out in the glow of all God has done for me.

I truly am thankful for so many things He's done, even in the last few months. Life is not perfect. But it's so blessed. More than I comprehend.

I've found a church home.

I've gotten not 1, not 2, not 3, but 4 jobs which at times seems like more than I can handle, but I'm grateful that God provides.

I've lost privacy, peace, and quiet, which makes for a sometimes chaotic and frazzled existence, but I've gained living with 3 precious nieces and nephews who make life fun and remind me what really matters-relationships. People. Family. And I'm so thankful for my family.

Incidentally, through all this, I'm thankful for a sister and brother-in-law who are selfless enough to take in their family members at their time of need. This is what love in action looks like.

I'm thankful for awesome co-workers, and amazing friends who always know how to make me smile and laugh. I used to look on friendships and relationships and see all the things that I wish were different. I'm realizing more and more that love is less of wanting others to change and more of just loving them the way they are. It's more rewarding that way.

I'm thankful that I get to do things I love every day. No, I'm not exactly where I want to be in life. There's a lot more I want to accomplish and some days I feel like a complete and utter failure. But in all of my jobs I get to help people, I get to make people feel beautiful, I get to teach people, I get to love people. Some days are harder than others. Mostly I feel unworthy and clueless as to how to love. But the older I get, the more I realize that love is more of a journey, less of a destination. You learn as you go and as you grow.

Mostly, I'm thankful that even when I can't see God's hand, even when my heart doesn't believe that God is sovereign or good, even when I can't see the big picture, truth endures. God endures. Love endures.

I'm thankful that Love doesn't give up on us, even when we give up on Him. I'm thankful that when we remain faithless, He remains faithful, because He cannot deny who He is. 

It's an astounding, scandalous truth, one that at present I'm having trouble understanding. And yet it still remains true.

One Decade

I remember when I was younger thinking that a decade seemed like an eternity. And from 12 to 22, it has felt like an eternity.

Today marks 10 years that my Dad went to be with the Lord. My original intent was to spend today by myself all day, reflecting. Alas, it was not meant to be, and I had one of the busiest days I've had in a while.

Reflecting for me more recently has become an act of the will. I've found myself just wanting to go to the next thing and not wanting to pause and think. But one of the things that I see over and over in Scripture, especially in the Old Testament, is a theme of remembrance.

God commanded Israel to remember what He had done. This remembrance was so important that one of the things He assigned were holidays in which they were to remember specific things that the Lord had done for them and they were to celebrate these events every year. Some were holidays of joy and some were holidays of sorrowful memories. But over and over the theme repeats itself: Remember. Remember.

So, I'm choosing to remember and reflect. I'm choosing to remember that in the 10 eons that have passed since my dad's death, God has been so faithful and good. In the short span of 10 years in which so much has happened, He has never left. There have been times when I've seen a tremendous amount of good come from Dad's passing, such as salvation of a loved one, or strengthening of my faith, instead of leaning on him. I've also seen a tremendous amount of sorrow as a result of the loss. Growing up as an adolescent girl without a father is difficult, whether we realize it or not. Watching a mother and siblings deal with the loss in their own way has at times seemed more than I could bear. And not having a physical and spiritual leader to guide our family has been overwhelming at times.

I don't remember much of my Dad. But I know enough about him to know that we would have been very close. My mom tells me all the time that I'm just like him. Then again, she says that about most of my siblings. ;) Sometimes the only thing I've wanted was to have him here so that I could ask him the billions of questions I've struggled with. If there's one thing I do remember, it's that he always seemed to have an answer. People always came to him if they had tough questions.

The interesting thing about this is even though I remember little about my Dad, the more I grow in God's word, the more I understand him. And I think that's a gift from God. To be blessed with a father who surpassed most men in his zeal for Christ, to know that he was such a man of character and integrity that even in his death his life is mirrored in the pages of scripture, is pretty incredible. And I thank God that even though he's not here, he left a legacy such that I could find Jesus through him. It reminds me of when Paul the Apostle told the Corinthians to follow him as he followed Christ. Not many people could say that. My dad could say that. And I'm just so grateful. 

I'm not sure how to end this post, so I will just end it how I usually do when I can't find the words: with a song.

And if not...He is still good.

Daniel 3:18 - "But even if He doesn't, we want to make it clear to you, your Majesty, that we will never serve your gods or worship the gold statue you have set up."

I don't ever want to be the person who tries to shame another because they didn't take action the way I thought they should. I've been that person, and it's not cool. I hate to see it. Let's be uplifting and exhortative, not condescending and prideful.

Oh, the Places You'll Go

About 2 years ago I decided to go to school to do hair. Everyone close to me had been telling me for a few years that I should do it, but I felt that if I didn't get a degree, people wouldn't view me as successful or smart or important, etc. I decided though, that I didn't care anymore what other people thought. I was miserable at college and couldn't seem to fit in anywhere. So, I quit university and signed up at my local tech school. During the 18 months that I was in tech school, life was sooo hard. Not the material or the classes, those were a joke (which made it even more difficult because mostly I felt that I was wasting time), but just having to get up early every day, sit in one small room for 8 hours for the first half and then 6 hours every day in a different room for the second part, during which time at one point I was additionally attending class from 5:30-10 pm and working between the breaks (from 3-5).
During the whole process, and even for a couple of months after it was over, I would get really depressed, because I thought I would never find anything that really made me happy. Everyone said hair would do it, yet I didn't feel happy. Mostly I felt frustrated, especially after I graduated, because I felt like nothing I did measured up to what I wanted it to be.

Now, I'm not about to say that now I'm totally happy with everything I do when someone sits in my chair. That would be a lie. I'm always learning and I never want to be totally satisfied with what I do, because that would mean I had reached a point where I thought I didn't need to learn anymore, which in this industry, or any industry for that matter, is basically career suicide. Or creativity suicide. Whatevs.

Anyway, I know this is a lot of words but basically what I want to say to whoever is reading this is don't give up. Keep trying to become better at whatever it is you've chosen to do. Just because you're not happy right now doesn't mean you never will be. Granted, if you absolutely hate your job and daydream about doing something else, something very specific, you're probably not in the right place career wise. But if the reason for your frustration is because you really want to be better and you have dreams of doing more and becoming more in your particular field, keep at it! Let that fear that you will never measure up to your own standards become the driving force behind why you work so hard to get better! And I can promise you, you will come to love what you do. And in loving what you do, you get happy! I can finally say, after searching for a career that would fulfill me and make me happy, I think I've found it. It took almost 4 years, but it's worth it.

You may be like I was, picking something to study and then when it didn't immediately fulfill you, you moved on to something else, and it became a pattern. I can't tell you how many days and moments that I was in Cosmetology school that I just wanted to quit, because I felt the same discouragement and frustration that I had with every other field of study I had chosen previously. But I had people encouraging me every day, people who had already been through what I had and who had come out on the other side, who could tell me that it was worth it and if I could just make it through this, it would all be worth it. And it is.

I love what I do. I never thought I would be able to say that, but here I am, saying it. Well, typing it. Again, I'm nowhere near what I want to be. I dream and aspire to be the absolute best hairdresser and makeup artist I can be. And I'm going to work hard to get there. And do you know what else? I have other dreams too. Dreams that have nothing to do with hair. And I really believe that when the time is right, those dreams will come to pass too. With a lot of hard work and planning ;)

So, the moral of the story is: Don't give up. Keep working hard. If something in you likes what you're doing now, keep doing it. Get better. In the words of Jon Acuff, "Hustle!" (Another thing you should do is get his Start book haha.) I promise that in the end, it'll be worth it.

You know what's great about music? It makes communication easier. I can be so tongue tied when I want to speak to God, but then I'll remember a song and suddenly it's a little easier to tell Him what I'm trying to say. Most of the poetry I've written that's waiting to be put to a melody are just prayers. That's it. And I'm so thankful that so many other people have been able to put their prayers to music. So that when I go through times like these, where the words to express the jumbled, foggy, incoherent thoughts sloshing around in my brain just won't form, I can join in a musical prayer that someone else has brought as an offering to God, and He in turn brought the increase-a heart wanting to be pruned and purified and brought to deeper intimacy with Him.

 

Imitation

You know how they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery? I don't support that. You know what some of the synonyms for imitation are?

Forgery.

Rip off.

Counterfeit.

Artificial.

Phony.

You know what some of the antonyms are?

Real.

Genuine.

Authentic.

Original.

I want to be the antonym of imitation.

Israel

Hmm why is it that when there's a lot going on in my life there seems to be a greater loss for words? Let's have a recap of what's happened in the last few weeks.

• We sold our house and my mom, sister, and myself have moved (almost everything) into my sisters house.
• I took the last part of my state board test and applied for my Master Cosmetologist license.
• I started to write my first song ever.
• I found out I have LPR (Laryngopharyngeal Reflux Disease).

Goal for the next 24 days: Be Awesome. Not just write about it. If I feel like throwing out a little update, I will :) Wish me luck. But prayers would be more appreciated haha.

START

Well, it hasn't exactly been a few months, but I have something important to document so I am breaking my rule. 

I don't really know how to start this post except to say that I think I'm going to abstain from blogging for a while. I just feel like...sometimes we put all of ourselves on display for everyone to see (not that everyone sees this blog. In fact, most people don't. The point is, I'm putting it out into cyberspace where literally anyone could see it and draw an opinion about me.) and we forget about who we really are. I know I haven't been blogging a lot lately, but I'm not only referring to blogging. I'm referring to Social Media in general.

I noticed something disturbing about myself just a few moments ago. I had a word from Scripture pop into my head about something relevant to what I was doing. And do you know what my immediate thought was? It wasn't, "Oh, I should do that. I should put that into practice. I should do what God's Word says." My immediate thought was, "That would make a good blog post." I know at first glance that doesn't seem like a problem. But it is. I was going to write a post about that particular idea, instead of putting it into practice right away. And I've found myself doing that more and more lately. And as a result, put a wall between my heart and God's. Because, unlike ourselves and unlike the people around us, we can't fool God. He knows when things aren't quite right, more so than we ourselves know.

So I've decided that for a while, I'm going to abstain from writing anything I'm learning on this blog or on any social media. It's going to stay between me and God for a while. He has some refining to do in my heart. I'll be back in a few months.

Stronghold

Stronghold - A place that has been fortified so as to protect it against attack

The Lord is my light and my salvation-whom shall I fear?The Lord is the stronghold of my life-of whom shall I be afraid?Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear;Though war break out against me, even then I will be confident. Psalm 27:1,3

Fortify means to protect against, and also to defend. God is not only a Shelter, but He is a Defender. Two things going on simultaneously. So while He is sheltering me, He is also fighting for me. Comforting truth in the midst of uncertainty.  

Something really cool about God is that He can make anyone an artist. The things He personally shares with us are, themselves, works of art. I really like that.

Reject

There are few things that hurt worse, or leave a longer lasting impression on one's heart, than rejection, no matter what its form.

Though at the present time there is not much I can muster within myself to rejoice, in these 2 things I can exult:

That God is God.

And He is not done yet.

"When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then You knew my path." Psalm 142:3

Sometimes it's good to retract from everything. We are so conditioned to think we have to be a part of everything and we'll miss out on something if we sacrifice anything. But the truth is, sometimes we just need to stop. We need to be alone. We need to be very alone. Just for a season.

Abide with Me

I've loved this song for a while, but, until Sunday, had never read all of the lyrics. Every version I've heard has only included at most, 4 verses. When I read the background of the hymn and author, as well as each stanza, I really was floored. I love when you find songs that eloquently put exactly what you're feeling into coherent thoughts and words. To abide means to continue without fading or being lost. I love the stanza that says "Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word...come not to sojourn, but abide with me." A plea for Jesus to abide. To live. Not to visit. To stay. Here are the background and lyrics.

Abide with Me is a hymn written by Scottish Anglican Henry Francis Lyte. He wrote the poem in 1847 and set it to music while he lay dying from tuberculosis; he survived only a further three weeks after its completion.

I had an Apostrophe

Today my post will be short. I have a lot that I'm thinking on but all of those thoughts are ones that haven't fully developed. God is still molding them.

A Sacrifice of Praise

"But You are holy, enthroned in the praises of Israel." Ps. 22:3

 This is a fairly fresh concept to me. My eyes were first opened to the idea of God being enthroned on our praise around Thanksgiving 2012, but it's something that I haven't really grasped until last week.

Praise is a fascinating concept to me because it is an action that we must engage in. What's even more fascinating to me is what happens to us when we do place God on a throne of praise. I'm going to try very carefully to convey this thought because it could be easily misconstrued.

We are commanded throughout God's word, and especially in the Psalms, to praise God. I had always thought that we do this out of duty or obligation or... Honestly I didn't even know why we did it. Isn't it sad that for 21 years I lived within this frame of reference, not truly understanding why we lift our voices and songs to God? Why we direct our musical abilities to Him? I was always bad at training my mind to focus on God during any type of musical endeavor because I just couldn't see the point. At the root of the problem was my belief system. I didn't believe God could possibly be pleased with any musical offering I brought, because of how imperfect a person I am. And I thought this about everyone, not just myself. So many times, after being in a time of corporate worship I would think, "Why do we even do this? I mean, I know in the Bible it says we're supposed to sing to God, but I don't get why. Why would a holy, perfect God want me or any of us to sing to Him? He's got the whole world at His fingertips yet somehow I'm supposed to believe He enjoys hearing us sing?"

Thanksgiving 2012 is where I can pinpoint God beginning to change my view of worship through music. I had been listening to a podcast of a sermon series by Louie Giglio that was about anxiety. There are 3 sermons in the series and they are fantastic. The last one though, is my favorite. Louie shared a story from 2 Chronicles 20. Read the whole story here. Seriously, read it. The Israelites are facing destruction and God tells them they will not need to fight. They need only position themselves properly and watch the salvation of the Lord. So, in order to position themselves properly, they had a choir go before their army, singing praises to God. Spoiler alert, God did fight for them, they didn't have to lift a finger, and they were delivered. What is so interesting though, is that they had a choir go before them. They were reminding themselves of who God is, what He had done, praising and thanking Him for all He did and would do. And because of it, they were delivered.

The most interesting concept to me in this story is that if they just believed God, and in believing, do what He told them to do, He would fight for them. What I've been learning about praising God is that when we do, we are reminded of who He is. We're reminded of His promises. We are ingraining them into our minds when we sing them. What you tell yourself over and over again, you start to believe. So, if we are singing the praises of God over and over again, we're actually going to start believing that He is who He says He is and that He can do what He says He can do. When we believe, we do. When we don't, we won't. It's as simple as that.

So, when the Psalmist writes that God is seated on a throne of praise, he doesn't mean that if we praise God, He will be enthroned. God is already enthroned. He doesn't need our praise to put Himself there. No, when we praise God, we put Him and ourselves into the right position. Him onto the throne of our lives, and ourselves at His feet in humble adoration and surrender. When we acknowledge God as being on the throne of our lives, we have no other response but to love.

2 weeks ago I experienced the Holy Spirit moving something inside of me. Freeing me to praise God. Praising God has become something fresh and beautiful for me. I'm not living any longer in the shame of believing that He couldn't possibly be pleased with the sacrifice of praise that I bring to Him. Yes, I will still have tendencies to fall into that thought pattern. But now I know. I know that God wants to hear me praise Him because He knows that when I do, I will be humbled into the correct posture, opening up my heart to the work of His hands that He wants to perform in my life.

Jesus is just IT. He's so good. His love. It's just incomprehensible. And why do we sometimes think that's a bad thing? It's a wonderfully good thing to be at a loss because of Him. May we never be ashamed to make a big deal out of Him and His great love.

Disturb us Lord

I'm torn between the desire to write and the unlucky coincidence that my brain is seemingly void of insightful thoughts. That seems to be the great paradox of my life. Wanting to do something, yet not having focus enough to do it. Sometimes I think I have something akin to ADD because I'll get so excited about something or want to do something but I can't make myself sit still long enough to focus on the task needing to be done. 

Written about 2 weeks ago...

I dusted off some of my old piano books this week. It's amazing what you forget when you don't practice anymore.
It brought back so many memories... You know when you find something you love and you invest a lot of time in it, and then, for whatever reason, you stop doing those things, you forget about them, and then several years later you remember that you forgot them? So you become reacquainted.  There's such a comfort in that familiar reverie. I'm not sure how it is for other people, but it makes me wonder why I ever stopped. I guess time creeps by, you become busy, too busy for the things you really love, and then you forget that you loved them, forget how much you loved them. Forget that, in some odd and mystical way, that thing seems to have the ability to love you too. Something that used to define such a huge part of you becomes lost. And as a result, a large part of you gets lost. I realize I was lost. I still am a little. I always will be. I think my life will always be a series of discovering again where I've unintentionally made my way to a place I never meant to go and then finding my way back to the right path. I want to make my way back to the love of playing. Music, and the love of it, is really quite a unique and esoteric thing. It's deep, almost as if it's encrypted into your genetic code. The English language doesn't have a satisfactory word for the following thought, but when you let yourself bask in this passion, it doesn't matter how challenging it is, because the result is worth it. I'm not fond of cliches -it seems lately I've been using a lot of them- but music is so much like love. You shouldn't forget to practice it. You shouldn't forget to live it. You shouldn't forget to be inspired by it. You shouldn't forget to revel in it. You shouldn't forget that to separate yourself from it means to put to death a large part of your heart. Such a large part of who I am has metaphorically been in a coma, for lack of a better description, for 6 years. But, I smile as I type this, I'm starting to stir. I'm a bit weak, nowhere near as strong as I used to be, but I'm animately existent. And the world, though at times daunting, seems like a much better place...

How He Loves

I'm sitting here at my dining room table, my favorite tea cup and saucer next to me {filled with Calm Tazo Tea, my favorite, and apple cider vinegar, not my favorite, but such is the life of an allergic convalescent like myself}, and with not much direction in regards to this post. I also have a nagging thought that I should be going to bed instead of writing, but I guess I'll sleep when I die. Or not, because I'll be in Heaven, and I don't think I'll want to sleep there.