The bend in the road.

“What you do in the present—by painting, preaching, singing, sewing, praying, teaching, building hospitals, digging wells, campaigning for justice, writing poems, caring for the needy, loving your neighbor as yourself—will last into God’s future. These activities are not simply ways of making the present life a little less beastly, a little more bearable, until the day when we leave it behind altogether. They are part of what we may call building for God’s kingdom.” 

– N. T. Wright

The things I've learned this year, some are like thunder and others are like tiny white buds. I've experienced the boisterous and vivacious and the gentle and small, small, small, all of which are true and genuine. It's April, and I understand things better. I get it now. 
All this matters. 
There is purpose in this seemingly heart-rending and insufferable existence. There is meaning behind your sorrows. There is redemption after your weeping. There is a plan for your drudgery. There is joy coming in the morning. 
Each day awakens, and each day brings dusk. 
And you? You are alive. Your life means something. You mean something. Do not doubt the necessity of your feet on this spinning planet. Even if it seems unbearable, I promise you, there is a reason for that. We are ecclesiastical in the sense of the third chapter of the book. We are not always fickle, we are simply human. We hurt and we heal. For as Anne says, "There is another bend in the road after this." Or rather, this too shall pass. And friends? It does. You wake one morning and the sun is spilling and you realize that you've moved on. Yes, things ache and throb, but you have stepped past the dark place and you are His still. 
Don't give up. 
Maybe you're tired, or you feel like you have no meaning or impact on those around you, let alone the world. Maybe you think everyone else is making a difference but you. Maybe you can't see a silver lining. Maybe you're just done. Maybe you don't see the point. Maybe you're rejected and you feel alone and abandoned and that no one cherishes you. Maybe it's not fair. Maybe you've failed. Maybe you're at the very bottom of it all and your weakest point. Maybe you've lost everything, or never had anything. Maybe the impossible, the unthinkable happened. Maybe the odds aren't in your favor. Maybe you're lost and have no sense of direction and this is just a void. Maybe you're empty.
Maybe you're in the dark, the dark, the dark.
But there is a bend in the road my friend. 
It's coming. 
Do not yield. Press in, lean in. Shoot straight, and continue on the course. Even still, in the blackest of nights, the North Star is there. Your purpose is a compass, His presence is a reassurance. You are building God's kingdom. And maybe right now you're in a trench, covered in mud and dust and dirt, and you don't understand why this is even happening, but it matters. That trench is for the foundation. You will build on it. There will come a day when you climb out, you reach the top of the pit, and you look back down and He will say, "See? See how I stayed your hand there? See how you trusted Me in that corner? See the sure, straight line which you dug in the deepest, darkest part? That was because you kept on. That was because you had faith." 
You will turn the bend, and all will be well. 

One day, when everything comes to fruition and redemption is finally accomplished, we will look at His work by our hands, and we will see the goodness and the glory and the reasons. We will have crossed our Jordans. We will have lived our Ecclesiastes. We will have fulfilled His grace. 
We will know.

On why I watch Downton Abbey.

Recently I was asked how, as a Christian woman, I could justify watching Downton Abbey when there is a very obvious, very present homosexual theme in the show. I realize that each piece of entertainment or art must needs be weighed for merit and worth on its own, so though these words and statements could be applied to other things, they are almost solely written to be applicable to this British show and perhaps only this show. 

I remember watching the first episode of Downton when it came out in the states. I thought it was boring and the characters were ugly and it was too long and it was nothing interesting. I was also extremely shocked and disgusted by many elements the writers had included. Honestly, I hated it. I hated O'Brien and her sly mouth. I hated Mary and her thin, wispy body. I hated Matthew and his obvious reluctance. I hated Edith and her whining. I hated Bates and his boringness. And I especially hated Thomas and his sin. I hated Thomas the most out of all of them.
But then there was Anna.
Anna, the little blonde housemaid with the lilting accent. Anna, the compassionate one. Anna, the incorruptible one. Anna, the kindest of them all. Anna, from downstairs. Anna, the faithful. Anna, the human.
And I loved her. I blush to admit it now, but the only reason I continued to watch Downton after that first episode was Anna. I felt guilty at first, because of all the sins and ugliness that the show emphasized. There were and have been countless instances of failings.
She slept with him. He was a homosexual. She was a liar. He was a thief. This happened, and no one told anyone. They fought. He was drunk. He should not have pursued her. She doesn't care when she should. She is cold and unfeeling. He is greedy. They were fornicating.
Truthfully, honestly, Downton Abbey is a cesspool for sin and mistakes.
And at first it caused me a lot of grief, and I almost stopped watching.
But for Anna.
But for Anna, who was always there at the right moment. She was always saying the right thing. She was always honest and true. And slowly, very slowly, but with a melody nonetheless, I began to see other glimmers of hope, maybe even the way she did. Other pretty things. Other lovely themes. Until suddenly, three seasons in, I realized that although Downton Abbey was full of the depravity of the human heart and mind, it had bloomed and flourished and blossomed into a gorgeousness that I can't really describe. After watching Anna for so long, I began to see the good things that they all did, not just their flaws. I saw the small, heartfelt moments, and the big, life-changing ones. And it all made sense.
Downton Abbey is beautiful because it is authentic and real.
The characters mess up. They are sinners and hateful and spiteful and mean-spirited. They are fleshly and earthly. But they are also hard-working and good and not easily persuaded. They are simply put, people. Human beings. Like you and me. And that is really what is so attractive about the show. They overcome things or they fail at things, just like we do.
And that is something so very lovely.

I understand that as a lover of the carpenter I have a responsibility to protect my heart and mind from the ways of the world. And it might seem contradictory since I watch and love an English broadcasting that is absolutely full of tragedies and evils, but it's not. It is okay. I won't justify the characters or their sins and mistakes. But I will tell you this, we live in the world. We're not to be of it, but in it. And I respect that we shelter our children from the storm. When I have my own darlings, I plan on doing exactly that for them. But we also need to recognize that we cannot necessitate ignorance and push for perfection. We're still humans. We still mess up. And in no way do I want my future children or other people I know to feel that grace is nonexistent and mistakes should be hidden. I have lived almost my entire life under that impression, with the weight of that on my shoulders. I hate that, that feeling and all its heaviness. I am ashamed that I still feel guilty and condemned at the slightest nod of a head.
Because you guys, you need to know, condemnation is not conviction.
There's one judge. He made you with a conscience. Listen to that.

Downton Abbey is one of the most accurate descriptions of human life out there. Honestly. You may think that statement is a bit dramatic, but I stand by it with a whole heart and utter confidence. Yes, the characters are flawed and they fail time and time again. But yes, there are beautiful moments too. There is marriage and family. There is dedication and loyalty. Relentless pursuit. Joy, there is much joy. There is forgiveness, for things that seem irreconcilable. There are struggles overcome. Passions and dreams fought for. Service to a country. Faith. Growth. There is so much beauty in the themes of Downton as well as the ugly. And I feel it would be hypocritical of me to dismiss it because it portrays content that I know is sinful. I live here, on earth, with a bunch of other sinners. I don't plan on locking myself in my house everyday for fear of seeing something that goes against my beliefs. How can we ever expect to love people, let alone preach the gospel, if we can't even recognize their sin as a real thing? I won't pretend that I am not disturbed by homosexuality. I can't pretend that, because it actually makes me very uncomfortable. But I definitely won't pretend that it doesn't exist and does not play a part in our society on a daily basis. To address a situation, you must first acknowledge it. I'm sorry, but that is the way it is. That is why Jesus sat with publicans and sinners while He was on earth. That is why Downton Abbey is more than okay.
It illustrates everything we could be, everything we are, and everything we should be.

Matthew and Mary got married in season three.
After months and years of quarreling and loving other people and even a war, they finally admitted to each other that they loved one another and wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. After episodes of fans rooting for them and crying over them and wishing them together and possibly sometimes shrieking at them, they finally admitted it and we watched.
And while him proposing in the snow and asking her not to go to America was lovely, and her in the white dress while he stared was breathtaking, it was the one moment when she confessed her greatest fault to him that stood out above all.
When she told him he would despise her, and he didn't.
He forgave her instead.
That was the one most powerful redeeming moment in Downton. The one that I'll always have tucked into the back of my mind. Because it's relevant. It's applicable. It's hard to do. And it's real.
Forgiveness is so real, and it is so powerful.

One of the best things in life is to find someone who will be a Matthew to your Mary.

You can find dark elements in anything. You can also find light elements in anything. It is up to us which we will embrace while we live by grace and climb our mountains. We live in a distressing place, ridden with grief, shame, and sin. I refuse to not be salt or a city on a hill because of this fact.
Being salt and a city on a hill usually means you have to be in a place without salt or a dark, hilly place. And that is quite scary and quite lovely too.
Keep faith.
I promise, sometimes you think you're the only one. But one night while you're shining, you'll see a glimmer, an Anna, and you'll know you're not alone.

So I watch Downton Abbey. I watch Downton Abbey because even in the midst of evil, goodness still shines. I watch Downton because Mary and Matthew did what everyone wanted but no one expected. I watch Downton because I have faith that someone someday will come alongside Thomas and befriend him, truly befriend him, and then he will have hope. I watch Downton because Mr. Bates, who had his face shoved in the dirt so many times, still gets up. I watch Downton because Cora and Robert always, always manage to make up in the end. I watch Downton because Mrs. Hughes is always there. I watch Downton because Sybil was daring and Branson is perfect. I watch Downton because of the white tea cups and Daisy in the kitchen and Edith may never get a happy ending and the relationship between Carson and Lady Mary is all too wonderful.
I watch Downton Abbey because it gives me faith. Faith that even in a terrible mess like this world we live in, we can still make a difference and pursue the lovely for a carpenter.
I watch Downton Abbey because I live by grace and it's unnecessary for me to justify it.
I watch Downton Abbey because I'm a human.
I watch Downton Abbey because of Anna.

This is why I watch Downton Abbey.

Why do you?

Africa is big

Sometimes while I'm in class, I feel like all we are doing is creating a stupid world full of hopelessness and not so passionate people and we only talk about problems not fix things let alone build them and we really waste hours days months years calling it learning but in reality all we're really doing is indulging our minds in circles spun from the silk webs of the people who decided long ago that we need to know everything in order to be someone.
And then I think to myself,

These times are hard, but dreamer hold on.

I had a nightmare the other night. There was a little boy in Africa who was still small but I knew that one day he would know and discover the cure to cancer. I couldn't find him though. I spent my entire life walking around Africa with just my backpack in that dream, and my feet were dusty and my clothes were sweaty and I was dirty, and I couldn't find him. I ended up in some rural village sobbing while the people stared at me.
Then I woke up.
I was clutching my throat and real tears were on my face when I sat up in my bed.

My saving grace these days are my morning time in the Word + the love letter campaign I have taken upon myself. Most of them as of late have small envelopes and tiny paintings that say, You can change things or You are wonderful wonderful wondrous.  I am growing tired of the perpetual + incessant message being preached in the classrooms here of we are not capable and it is already too late. It's showing, in the love letters, it's obvious.
But I like that.
There is something so dissatisfied in me at this point in my life, this part of my mountain, that I really can't ignore it anymore. We are beautiful creatures, fearfully + wonderfully made. And too often we belittle ourselves which in turn belittles the Carpenter and His power. I am fed up with that. I mean, I'm nothing incredibly special, but I am not simply just a human being who exists. I have a purpose. I am almost required to be passionate. In fact, it's possible that I am required to be passionate. Passion is necessary. It is holy + beautiful + desirable.
I don't want to just be here anymore.
I need to be more.

I am not preaching selfishness or a me-centered life. I promise. I only want you to recognize that when you have Christ, you have undeniable storehouses of power. I have that power. And what do we do with it?
What do I do with it?
Nothing.
We just keep breathing.

So, here's for a change.

Build. Anything. Everything. Big + small. Build wooden boxes and friendships and relationships and churches and huts in tiny villages. Build bridges and treehouses and castles. Use your hands.
Change. Change yourself first, then change your neighbor, then your community, then the world. Change a town. Change a person. Make change, find things that need changing, be a change.
Pursue. Hot + fast + with a ferocity unmatched. Be determined. Live brighter and saltier. Run after the things you know you should, and even only those you think you should.
Climb, higher + with more determination.
Love harder.
Do better.
Try more.
Fall often.
Get. Back. Up.
Stand firmer.
Hide in the cleft of the rock.
Sing louder.
Worship real-er.
Live by grace.
Believe always.  
Do justly, love mercy, walk humbly.
Live righteously.
And remember,
these times are hard, but dreamer hold on.

As I sit here at a table on campus with barely anyone around me and I write these small notes and letters that are becoming such a big part of my life I can and will only conclude again again again that this is important this is big this is something good because people need these letters and they need to know the simple truth of the matter.
We are all human beings.
We are all very vulnerable.
And things are hard.
But we will never find the boy who is going to find the cure for cancer unless we are all searching + guiding + looking + discovering, because Africa,
Africa is very big.

Ce n'est pas facile

There's this part in Micah, chapter four + right at the beginning, that honestly struck me so hard this morning I was breathless. It says:

1But in the last days it shall come to pass, that the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be established in the top of the mountains, and it shall be exalted above the hills; and people shall flow unto it.

And maybe it's figurative language, or maybe it's just prophecy, but that picture it puts in my head is something else. A mountain on top of the mountains. There are hills outside my window. They're blue because it's still morning, and they are so tall. So looming. So overshadowing. When I look out at those hills and imagine God's mountain of a house on top of the mountains, I just have to stop. I have a good imagination, but not that good.
Can you see it?
Because after I stopped + my breath caught in my throat and tickled the back of it there, I did. I saw it. In my own way.
And it was like nothing I ever could have come up with.

...

These days God has been so gracious to me. They are full of a new + blossoming friendship, peach colored carnations, plums, and tea every morning. But they are also full of change + decisions.
I am changing. I am realizing that a little more each day. I have always had a very judgmental spirit inside of me; I'm not too big of a person to admit that. In fact, when it comes down to it, I'm quite a little person. And so I have judged, and I judge, and I will judge. Sometimes that is alright, but I think I do it in a harsher manner than most. I have such very high expectations, of myself + everyone else on the planet, that sometimes I forget grace and compassion and mercy and love.

When I left my old church, it took me two years to change who I was. To strip off the old self + die, and to become the new one. The new me. The ever-changing, incessantly growing me. And with her came new ideals and revelations and expectations.
I see now that I've let bitterness take root in my bones and grow as one with the marrow. I've let it bloom in the sinews of my muscles. The worst part is though, I think I planted it there myself.
I have had this never-ending nagging in the back of my head for more than six months over something my Pastor said, and I can't shake it. I really can't brush it off my shoulders. And it is so very heavy. It is one of the heaviest weights I've ever carried.
It was only one sentence, one thing he said.

I promise that I am trying really, very hard to live like I agree with him. Because he was right. What he said was right.

I want to be able to look at people and say, I know this can work. I know you can do it right. I know you can make it happen. But I can't yet. And it's because of that bitterness. It's because I haven't seen it done right. It's because I have battle scars that I still try to hide.
There are so many wrong ways to worship God. 
There are so many right ways too though.
I don't have it all figured out. I don't know everything. I just know what the Bible says and what God has shown me. So I just want you to know, I am trying very hard not to judge you. But I am weighing the consequences of the choices you + I make as well, and if I ever feel that what you do will injure your's or my relationship with the carpenter, with the sweet Savior, then I will tell you so.
I promise you that.

He will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.

That phrase from Deuteronomy is on the palm of my hand this morning. I love it most right now. Because I am so uncompassionate + confused at times, and it is only because He stays with me that I can continue on.

...

No one ever said Christianity was easy.
And if they did, they're lying.

Praying always

This morning I sat on the back porch, wrapped in a blanket and drinking iced coffee, and reading. I was supposed to read the first chapter of Jonah. I actually did read the first chapter of Jonah, but then I really wanted to read first John, so I did.
Chapter two was especially my favorite.
I like the parts about walking like Him and having confidence. There is something exceptionally beautiful + sweet in having a God that reassures you that you can do this and He is coming back.

We have had visitors all weekend and this week now. It is something very special + lovely, to always have people around. We are embarking on an adventure for tea today, and it is quite possible that bicycles will happen as well. In the midst of all this joy though, I am making time to pray for the important things. This morning has been very much about Saeed Abedini and his imprisonment. I'll confess with my brutal honesty that I don't always remember him and other people when I should. It is hard, it is hard to concentrate on the difficulties of people you have never and probably will never meet. See, sometimes I am selfish. Sometimes I find time for painting in the color of plum, but not praying for the people I should.
Sometimes I am a failure of a believer + human.

But it is by the grace of a carpenter that I will overcome my shortcomings and deny my selfish desires and pray.

It's mornings like this that I actually believe that of myself.

Diving.

On Sunday, an elder prayed for me and my family. We stood in the hot grass in front of the lake and wrapped our arms around each other and he prayed. He prayed something about waking up with eternity written on our eyelids, but what struck me the hardest was when he prayed for me.
That I would go deeper.
I stood there for a second when he said it, my breath caught in my throat as I barely mouthed the word after he said it. Deeper, I whispered. And then I said it again, just to reassure me.

Deeper.

There was a time when that word meant nothing to me. I had no experience with it. It was useless. I was as deep as I could go. At least I thought I was. Depth was a foreign concept to me. Little did I know then, I had only scraped the surface of my carpenter + His grace. There would come a time later in my life when I would suddenly pry my fingers from my face and look and see and then actually dive. Because all that time I had been treading water, and I thought I was standing.
Sometimes the earth we feel underneath our feet isn't really there.

On Sunday, I loved hearing someone pray those words over me, but better yet, I loved more that they meant something to me. I got excited, tears creeping out of the corners of my eyes and sweat making my hair stick to the back of my neck and the sun, the ever insistent sun beating down. The beauty in that prayer was not that someone else prayed for me to go deeper. The beauty was that I knew I could, that I wanted to, that I was capable.
I can go deeper, I said to myself as I went back after he had finished and I sat on a hardwood picnic table that poked splinters into my thighs.

I can go deeper, I said it this morning too.
Because I believe it. I know it.

On how I learned God is merciful.

I spent the week away from my family starting on a Sunday and ending on a Saturday. I didn't plan anything really. I only wanted to go and see my best and drink tea and turn twenty-two and make galettes and read Beatrix Potter. Instead I ended up barefoot on a sidewalk, holding hands with a sobbing K as she watched her husband kick doors down to wake people up, and fire ate away at everything they had.
Not but thirty minutes after I arrived, I watched with my best friend as we thought she was losing everything.

Jude

1 Jude, the servant of Jesus Christ, and brother of James, to them that are sanctified by God the Father, and preserved in Jesus Christ, and called:

2 Mercy unto you, and peace, and love, be multiplied.

3 Beloved, when I gave all diligence to write unto you of the common salvation, it was needful for me to write unto you, and exhort you that ye should earnestly contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints.

4 For there are certain men crept in unawares, who were before of old ordained to this condemnation, ungodly men, turning the grace of our God into lasciviousness, and denying the only Lord God, and our Lord Jesus Christ.

5 I will therefore put you in remembrance, though ye once knew this, how that the Lord, having saved the people out of the land of Egypt, afterward destroyed them that believed not.

6 And the angels which kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day.

7 Even as Sodom and Gomorrha, and the cities about them in like manner, giving themselves over to fornication, and going after strange flesh, are set forth for an example, suffering the vengeance of eternal fire.

8 Likewise also these filthy dreamers defile the flesh, despise dominion, and speak evil of dignities.

9 Yet Michael the archangel, when contending with the devil he disputed about the body of Moses, durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said, The Lord rebuke thee.

10 But these speak evil of those things which they know not: but what they know naturally, as brute beasts, in those things they corrupt themselves.

11 Woe unto them! for they have gone in the way of Cain, and ran greedily after the error of Balaam for reward, and perished in the gainsaying of Core.

12 These are spots in your feasts of charity, when they feast with you, feeding themselves without fear: clouds they are without water, carried about of winds; trees whose fruit withereth, without fruit, twice dead, plucked up by the roots;

13 Raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame; wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever.

14 And Enoch also, the seventh from Adam, prophesied of these, saying, Behold, the Lord cometh with ten thousands of his saints,

15 To execute judgment upon all, and to convince all that are ungodly among them of all their ungodly deeds which they have ungodly committed, and of all their hard speeches which ungodly sinners have spoken against him.

16 These are murmurers, complainers, walking after their own lusts; and their mouth speaketh great swelling words, having men's persons in admiration because of advantage.

17 But, beloved, remember ye the words which were spoken before of the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ;

18 How that they told you there should be mockers in the last time, who should walk after their own ungodly lusts.

19 These be they who separate themselves, sensual, having not the Spirit.

20 But ye, beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost,

21 Keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life.

22 And of some have compassion, making a difference:

23 And others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire; hating even the garment spotted by the flesh.

24 Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy,

25 To the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen.