From October 17th 2011

Of Wanderers and Oil Paints

“Are you going home for Fall Break?”

“No I’m going to Kentucky to visit my parents.”

Blank confused stares, criss-crossed categories…but there’s no use taking the statement back. I could embark on an epic tale detailing my life of nomadery and the recent transitions my family has gone through. But I won’t. Because they don’t care that much. So I just smile and leave them to their confusion.

A five hour drive through rolling hills and trees displaying varying degrees of beauty and deadness. Sporadic conversation: the Gospel…the beauty of being a child of God…Islam and the people who live under it…ministry…church…classes. A little Josh Garrels thrown in. Some long silences, and perhaps a short nap on the part of the passenger.

Tumbling out of the car into the arms of my parents who shoo me into the world of Baptist Academia. Where the men wear starched suits and the women wear too much lipstick. I tug on my dress, smiling through my travel-weariness. Senior citizens shake my hand, my father’s colleagues reveal a disturbing amount of knowledge about me. Note to self: interrogate father later about what vicious rumors he has been spreading. Descend into the library, where a catacomb of literary paradise goes on seemingly forever. Book upon book upon book. Deep leather furniture, random paintings and displays, a sword upon the wall, a medieval manuscript laying out…I feel like a child whose fingers are coated in dirt and strawberry jam, but who wants to touch all of the pretty things.

The short days go by quickly. Running errands with Mom, going to pick up the gentlemen from their respective schools, coffee dates with Dad. Setting the table, coming across books I haven’t read in years that mysteriously appear out of white cardboard boxes. Oh the beautiful chaos of trans-Atlantic moves. I open up my box of paints like Howard Carter opened the tomb of Tutankhamun, I unfold my easel lovingly. Three beautiful days spent up to my ears in bright hues, linseed oil, and paint thinner. I emerge from my room be-speckled and smelling like chemicals, but my eyes are bright and my heart is satisfied.

But all the while, in the back of my mind, I think “I can’t wait to go home.” And then I laugh, because I am an MK and I don’t really have one of those. It’s the cost of living a life of nomadery and always sounds awfully melodramatic. Those who wander have always been made out to be romantic figures. But frankly, I miss Jackson, Tennessee. I miss my uncomfortable bed in Rogers 76, and Ruth’s couch in Pascall 61. I miss eating with friends in Cobo and sitting under my tree near the clock tower. I miss taking evening walks and talking about my Lord, who I am falling in love with in a whole new way. I miss my church, oh so much. 

And then I have the pleasant realization that maybe—just maybe, mind you—when I drive into Union University tomorrow at noon, I might be coming back to the place where I belong.

From September 17th 2011

Winnowing

Winnow (win-oh)

verb (used with object)

1. to free (grain) from the lighter particles of chaff, dirt, etc., especially by throwing into the air and allowing the wind to blow away impurities.
2. to subject to some process of separating or distinguishing; analyze critically; sift.
3. to separate or distinguish valuable from worthless parts.

(via Dictionary.com)

When I was little my parents were very intentional about making me memorize scripture. John 3:16, Romans 3:23, Psalm 100….we would play games during the day to help us remember them and we would recite them as a family before bed. I didn’t realize how valuable this was at the time, but now I am so thankful that my parents discipled me to put away God’s Word.

One of the first passages I remember memorizing was Psalm 100, which goes something like this [warning: Charlotte paraphrase]—The man who stays away from sinful men and their ways and instead goes deep into the word of God and finds his delight there, he will be blessed greatly! But the wicked man will never last: he will perish.

In those days when the men of Israel harvested their grain, they would take the whole pile and throw it up in the air. The grain would fall to the ground, while the lighter (worthless) chaff would blow away. This process is called winnowing. In the Psalm, David uses this idea to compare the two kinds of men: just as the chaff is blown away, leaving the good grain, the wicked will vanish leaving those grounded in the truth of God. 

As I thought about this concept, I realized that it can’t just be given a courteous nod and left inside the Scriptures when we close our Bibles. Followers of Christ must be intentional winnowers in all aspects of our lives. My friend Ruth and I have been discussing wisdom a lot: where to get it, how to get it, how to apply it to our lives. We were sitting on her floor eating granola trying to sift through an issue and figure out what principles we should embrace and how we should live. And I realized that we cannot seek wisdom passively, taking to heart anything that vaguely applies to our situations in life. We must crusade for wisdom. We must fight to find it, poke holes in it, ask for it from those ahead of us, winnow and winnow and winnow until we find what is really true.

And what Ruth and I found as we were winnowing, was that the truth was really uncomfortable. It left us with knots in our stomachs and actions we had to take that made eating glass look preferable. It didn’t make us feel better: it showed us that we were wretches with diseased hearts. It showed us that in order to kill that disease we had to take medicine that would make us feel worse before we could feel better and we had to surgically remove things that we cling tightly to.We had to die. But as that truth fell to the floor and the empty phrases blew away in the wind, there was a comfort in knowing that no matter how scary and painful it is, we have a God who clings tightly to us. We have a God who loved us before we were lovable, who constantly pursues us and knows how to woo our hearts. We have a God who redeems us from the pit, forgives our sins, heals our diseases.

So let me challenge you: inspirational quotes, life-mottos from famous people, lines from popular songs—they blow away in the wind. They have no weight to them, they have no value. When you need something to sustain you, you will find that they have no substance. Winnow them out. Look for the grain that will satisfy your hunger and give you strength for this life. Actively fight for it: it is the only thing that will keep you alive.

From September 5th 2011

Adding up

Going to a church and feeling like you have come home…being challenged by the message…feeling Christ tug on your heart once more…realizing in a fresh way how astounding the cross is.

Spending two hours on the phone with your mother…finding that you have reached a point where you can relate as friends…sharing little details of your life and laughing together, seeing how great this relationship can be.

Spontaneously walking over to a friend’s room and eating her food…talking about God, boys, God, and then God again…pouring out our hearts over chicken and salsa and feeling renewed as the rain patters down outside.

Taking a walk through campus and feeling chilly for the first time…skipping and laughing at little things…singing silly songs and just enjoying each other’s friendship…hopping into a friend’s car and being goofy at the Wendy’s drive-through.

Sleeping late on a Monday and enjoying a long shower…walking over to join friends and eat homemade chili…letting our insides warm up as we think about the cold, blustery wind outside…curling up on an unmade bed piled with blankets, cozy in a hoodie and fuzzy socks…watching the trees sway outside the window.

All of these things add up….

“And my soul wells up with Hallelujahs.”

From August 28th 2011

Insufficient

Lord, the more I live and learn and grow, the less I become. More like, I realize more fully how I am nothing. The closer I get to you, the more I see how stupid my pride is. The more I understand who you are, the more I realize how disgusting my sin is, and then I am utterly overwhelmed by the magnitude of your grace.

Lord, I am finally beginning to see how insufficient my efforts are. I’m finally beginning to get that I can bring nothing about through my own planning, strength, best efforts. The picture of who I really am is starting to have a little more clarity: that of a broken, limp sinner who has been forgiven, healed, and cleansed entirely through the power and mercy of my God, and who breaths and walks and speaks only because you ordain it. And I am beginning to see that life makes more sense when I surrender and just praise you, rather than fight you.

Lord, I don’t want to be the woman in Ezekiel 16, but I know I am. So this is me, coming before you again, trying to thank you with the nothingness that I am. I am nothing. I have nothing. But I know that you can pull somethings out of me if you so desire. So take my sinful nothingness and breath pure somethingness into it. I am insufficient, but you are extravagantly more than sufficient. You are beauty and purity and wisdom and passionate love. All I’m asking is to have a taste of that which I know is so far above my comprehension.

Put words in my mouth, strength in my limbs, direct my steps and fill me with songs of glory to you. Give me an unending thirst for your presence and a passionate love for your church. 

Lord, I’m finished with faking somethingness. Take my insufficiency and work your thrilling, glorious will.

A Transfer

I am one of THOSE people.

The kind that is blown about by every whim and fancy of the blogging world, bright eyed and idealistic at the beginning, and unforgivably lazy at the end. I've blogged in all sorts of formats and never quite found one that I stuck with. Then I discovered Tumblr and thought that my search was at an end and I had found the one format that would work for me. And in some ways I had, because I have no intention of giving that account up. But Tumblr was not meant for long posts: it was meant for pictures or bite size thoughts. It is tailored for those who are inclined to be pithy and post a lot of pictures. I found that I tended to be a better consumer than contributor to that format.

So while I will continue to browse Tumblr and occasionally post a picture or quote, all of the longer writings will be transferred hither. I will bring over the longer Tumblr posts that I want to preserve and then add to them.

So for those who like to read my writings (hi Mom) here is the place to go. I might even publish my creative writings on here, once I am done revising them.

So here we go again. I hope--somehow--something useful will be contributed to society.