It doesn't feel real

In 7 weeks and three days, We're getting on a plane. That plan will leave from Chicago, stop in NYC and leave my mom and me in Milan, Italy.

Really?!

I have the email that says we bought the tickets, and every time we talk on the phone, the trip is part of conversation...but it still doesn't feel real.

For most of my teenage and adult life, I've wanted to go to Italy. It's always been high on the list. When I lived in London junior year in college, Holy Week (too crowded and expensive) and food poisoning that lead to my only night ever spent in a hospital stopped us from making it past Spain. We were OK with that and had a fantastic time in Alicante. But we never did make it to Italy. The wine, cheese, pasta, language, attitude, art...it all fascinates me.

And now I'm actually going. But it doesn't feel real. The tickets were bought without that much thought, and all the logical reasons not to go seem more convincing than those to jump on a plane and eat street pizza in Rome. Nonetheless, in seven weeks and three days, we'll get on that plane, and in seven weeks and four days, we'll wake up in Milan to a rush of the senses in a new place creating new memories, soaking it up, one sip at a time.

...the whole world, in his hands...

Listening to the African Children's Choir singing the words "he's got the whole world, in his hands, in his hands, he's got the whole world, in his hands" brought a surprisingly new take on the simple, children's song. 

It's easy, as a small child in America, to sing about God having the whole world in his hands. Yes, many children do suffer from abuse or hardships and so please don't think I'm being naive or insulting to the harsh realities of some serious issues, but in general, if you're born in the good ol' USofA, adults dote on and protect you. Meals, clothing and shelter appear from no where, and there's generally someone to cuddle when you have a bad dream and check in the closet for monsters. Or for me, the fire place. 

What about when you're told to sing those words and both your parents have died from AIDS? You're not sure where you're going to find food, and when you do, it'll probably be something from the city dump or that you stole. The ripped t-shirt you wear as a dress is one that is so old and grey, you have no idea where it came from or what color it was originally and might just hope holds up a little longer because if not, where else would you get something to wear? Oh, and you're 5-years-old.

I'm not really sure what it's like to grow up in the city dump as an orphan child in an African inner city, but I imagine it's hard to believe that this God of which Christians speak really does have you in His hands? If He really does love and care for me, then why isn't there anyone to take care of me?

Organizations like the children's choir or Compassion International have started to make a believer out of me. I can sometimes get cynical and say that handouts aren't the answer to long-term helping people in poverty. But the innocent children who sing of how before they were born, they were God's choice made me start to tear up: It's not their fault they need help. They never asked to be born. They didn't want to be uneducated or get expensive medical problems because they are so sick from dirty water. They probably don't understand what it would be like to have both parents alive or a place to call home that's not made out of cardboard, dirt or metal scarps. They probably care for their friends better than we care for ours and most certainly understand what it means when they start to pray and ask and see God provide for all of their needs.

So kudos to you, African Children's Choir. Kudos to you for giving these kids a chance. Kudos to you for education and health care and someone who not only tells them that God has the whole world in his hands but also cares for them with actions to back up those words. God really does have the whole world in his hands, and what a joy it must be to watch his children taking care of each other. We should do that more often.

 

 

Josiah

The Old Testament in the Bible is pretty well known for names and places that are hard to pronounce, strange stories of marching around cities, wandering toward the promise land and prophets who talk in words that don't make sense. It sometimes gets a bad rap.

Toward the end of 2 Chronicles and 2 Kings, we meet a kid named Josiah. And yes, a kid. He's 8-years-old when he becomes king. It's then that he decides to follow God. And at the grand old age of 12, he starts to do something about it, using his power to get rid of idol worship in Jerusalem and Judah.

And people think that all teenagers are trouble? (OK, he wasn't quite a teenager, but still...)

Up until this point in the story, there are a lot of kings listed. Many are not such great guys. They go down in history with the tag line, "they did evil in the sight of the Lord" and generally find themselves getting into trouble. But every so often, there's a king who dos "right in the sight of the Lord," like Josiah.

So what does that mean? How do you do "right" in the sight of the Lord? Christians spend all too much time arguing about what's right and what's wrong when it comes to worship styles. Baptism creates much controversy, and the media likes to show all kinds of opinions when it comes to controversial issues on marriage and gender roles, among other things. So what does it mean to be remembered in history as someone who did "right in the sight of the Lord"?

Josiah was a pretty determined adolescent. When he realized that there was this God who was beyond all measure and worth of praise, he started to acknowledge it. He didn't just think it and keep it to himself, he used his position to get rid of the sinful idol worship that had become the accepted norm of his country. He restored the Temple - God's chosen place of worship at the time - and poured resources into worship.

The thing, however, that was interesting to me was his reaction to God's Word. The Bible, as we know it, was not written. Publishing companies didn't exist, and you couldn't order a copy online. Most of God's instructions were passed down word-for-word through the generations of oral tradition or written on scrolls, a tedious and seemingly perfected art. So what Josiah found was a big deal. Well, he didn't find it, but someone else did and brought it to him. It was the book from Moses' time that described how one was to live a life honoring to God. Even though Josiah had taken the steps to restore the Temple at this point, there were obviously things in his life and the lives of those in the nation for which he was responsible that didn't line up.

At this point, one might say that it would be fair for Josiah to remind God that he didn't know that there was a problem because no one had told him. It wasn't his fault. He'd do it from now on. How was someone expected to live up to standards not revealed? The list of excuses is about as long as the 7th grader who gets caught not doing math homework.

But Josiah's reaction is different. Although his own parents and grandparents were the ones who failed to raise him in the ways of the Lord and this book was lost by previous generations, Josiah immediately turns to God and admits his wrong doing. Scripture - even today - is supposed to offend us. It is a long story of God's great love and grace and reveals to us how to honor and love Him back. Sinful nature makes it impossible to do this perfectly, which is why we need to someone to atone for our sin...and that someone was Jesus.

What is our reaction when we find out that we're not honoring God and it's something that we didn't know about? We make excuses. We say it's OK. We blame our parents. We point to the media. We often fail to change because it's "the culture in which we live" and not our fault.

LAME.

Josiah, in all his adolescent glory, has a different take on things. He immediately repents. He humbles himself. He admits that his finite person - mind and heart - may not know everything about honoring and worshipping the Creator and Master of the Universe and that he might...he just might...have something to learn.

The story gets better.

Turning the page, after his humble attitude is honored by God through the words spoken by a prophet, it says talks about his heart. The Bible uses that word quite often when referencing someone's character or faith - the heart. It didn't say that Josiah was perfect, but rather it tells us that his heart was pursuing God, and his actions followed.

I'm reminded that I don't like to be wrong. I don't. I say that I don't mind it, but if I'm really honest, when I discover that I made a mistake and if there's any "reason" it's not entirely my fault, I like to point that out immediately doing nothing less than practically purchasing a billboard to let the world know that there is a "reason" (not an excuse) that I messed up. Is that really what God desires? Does He really want us to tell Him that we just weren't informed and can't be held responsible? Or is this kid from a few thousand years ago on to something? What would happen if instead of being too good to learn something and admit it's important, we humbled ourselves before God and turned to him with a heart of repentance and worship?

Italy...here we come!

No. 1 on The List will be dated in 2009. My mom and I just bought two tickets to Italy for this spring!

Monte & Other Ideas?

Two new Austin experiences last night:

1. The Saxon Pub seems like an Austin classic. David, Damon, Emily, Alyson and I had a good time.
   
2. Monte Montgomery a supposedly big deal in the guitar world and Austin local. Good stuff.

David's here through the weekend, and we're trying to hear live music every night. More fun times to come!

The List

dance as though no one is watching you,
love as though you have never been hurt before,
sing as though no one can hear you,
live as though heaven is on earth."

Several years ago, I started a list. In a journal with that Souza quote on the front, I wrote down things that I want to do in life. It's a growing, never-ending list. There's no rule for how great or small, but they are things that may take some intention or effort. Some are personal, some are not. Many are travel. Several have been accomplished. It's fun to date and check 'em off! If I never get to them, that's OK, it is always fun to be on the lookout for adventure!

What would you add to it?

Jesus says...
"I have come
that you may have life
and have it to the full."
-John 10:10

1. Experience Italy
2. Take gourmet cooking classes - including desserts!
3. Write a book
4. Get married
5. Be a mom
6. Run a marathon or complete a triathlon
   
7. Learn to play guitar
8. NYC!
9. Climb a 14er in Colorado - Gray's 7/4/06 and Quandry 8/06
   
10. Go Sailing
11. New England in the Fall
12. Highway 1 in California
13. Central/South America
14. Africa - Kenya Nov. 20-Dec. 5, 2005, Egypt Nov. 2007
    
15. Another degree?
    
16. Read the Bible continuously from Genesis to Revelation - started in 2005 & completed in 2007
    
17. San Francisco
18. Ireland
19. Greece
20. Extended short-term missions
21. Speak Truth
22. Buy a bike
23. Buy snowshoes
24. Work at a church again - Starting in October 2006 Associate Youth Director in Austin, Texas
    
25. Build the dream business with Amber
26. Give a YS Seminar
27. Ski when I'm 80-years-old
28. Live in Kenya or overseas for a short while
29. Continue friendships from all the places I've lived
30. Sante Fe
31. Publish magazine articles - first one in 2005
    
32. Be a speaker
33. Russia
34. Egypt - Nov. 19-25, 2007 with Michael (brother) on the way to Israel...Cairo, Luxor, Dahab, Sinai, Cairo
    
35. Alaskan Cruise
36. Singapore/Thailand
37. Take dance classes - Swing: Lindy Hop & Charleston 9/6/08
    
38. Swim with dolphins
39. Mountain bike in Moab - June 2005 with Jenny, Anna, Amanda, Emily and Tara
    
40. Boston - visiting Laura Davis August 2005
    
41. U2 concert - Denver 4/20/05
    
42. Israel/Middle East - Israel with Michael and his church, visiting Kelli & Jeremy Brown, November 25-December 8, 2007
    
43. Skydiving - June 3, 2006 with Becky Sears & Julie Arnett at Mile High Skydive in Longmont, Colorado
    
44. Not work at a church again
45. Honduras, while Anna is still living there
46. Caving/Spelunking - October 2007 with Heather, Heather, Alexia, Jeremy, Mark, Jeshua and Peter in Austin
    
47. Play classical violin...again
48. Be spontaneous
49. Work at a coffee shop - Starbucks in Denver August 2002-January 2005
    
50. Live in Colorado - Denver/Boulder 2002-2006
    
51. Feel "home"
52. Cook international foods - I do this sometimes.
    
53. Wine tasting in Sonoma
54. New Zealand (Australia)
55. Love people well
56. Always write letters...hand-written, real letters
    
57. Write freelance full time
    
58. Finish the scrapbooks that have been started
59. Heli-ski
60. Ski Whistler/Blackcomb
61. Learn to golf
62. Go to an NFL Game
63. Go to a NHL Game
64. Mizzou Homecoming, as an alum
65. Visit Las Vegas - August 2008 with Julia Welch
66. Ride a motorcycle
    
67. Never stop asking questions
68. Sing Karaoke...loudly
    
69. Learn to play poker
    
70. Learn Spanish
71. Learn Greek
    
72. Climb Manchu Picchu
73. Visit Cleide in Panama
74. 
    

Taste and see that the Lord is good!
-Psalm 37:7

Running dumped me.

I call myself a runner...but it's a slight insult to the sport. Those people who run several marathons in a year and get up hours before the sun to go miles and miles and miles...and more miles to complete their training programs. I'm so not one of them.

But I do like to run. Actually, I love to run. I did it almost every day, but only a few miles. I don't do training programs. I don't sign up for races. I run because I enjoy it.

Then I hurt my knee. This commercial sums up the feelings that I've had these past six months or so...especially the past few weeks with the weather so perfect for the sport. However, I didn't break up with running. Then I hurt my knee. This sums up the feelings that I've had these past six months or so...especially the past few weeks with the weather so perfect for the sport. However, I didn't break up with running. Running dumped me.

.....snooze.....

"I hit the snooze button for an hour straight, sleeping in five-minute bursts, unable to drag myself out of bed. Thank God it wasn't a powder day," said the review of Clocky the rolling alarm clock in Skiing Magazine. It's a funny little creature. After you hit the snooze button once, it falls off whatever surface on which it was previously resting cooperatively and quietly and, with a mind of its own, makes R2-D2 noises as it rolls around the floor like a 2-year-old having a temper tantrum.

I like mornings more than most people. I'm not talking about 8 or 9 a.m. meetings, when the rest of the world likes their day to start. It's the sick and twisted hours of 4, 5 or 6 a.m. that for which my heart longs. There's no email, no phone calls, nothing to watch on TV, no Facebook messages, to-do lists that aren't able to grow...it's quiet. I wake up, sometimes having pre-set my coffee maker the night before, to a few precious moments that I wish could last forever but wouldn't be as special if they did.

Embracing my hazelnut hug in a mug, coffee topped off with a little bit of tasty creamer, the experience begins. It's a treat, just for me that no one can interrupt and that I don't have to share. Crawling back to my bed, this time propped up by pillows but still huddled under a blanket, I read, journal, write, pray, think, process and dream. I love this time. It's me and Jesus. Sometimes my thoughts are more similar to that of a middle school girl, silly and meaningless to the rest of the world but important to me, but oftentimes, it's where I encounter the Living God and am able to drone out the noises of the rest of my day to hear a whisper of how His love is so incredible, His trust is so unbreakable and His faithfulness is so overwhelmingly consistent.

Nonetheless, it's hard to start. My alarm goes off when it still looks like the middle of the night outside, and I hit snooze. Just once...I want to put on a sweatshirt because it's cold and get warm before I crawl out of bed stumbling, sometimes so tired that my face hurts. Seven minutes pass. Seven long, wonderful, sleepy minutes. And then the music starts again. This time it's a song that annoys me. I don't want to start my day with an annoying song, so I hit the magic button and fall on my face, thankful that I've made it back to bed after the short walk across my room to the alarm clock.

I know what is to come. I know how much I love this time. One might think that I'd burst out of bed as to take advantage of every possible minute before I have to go to work.

It's not that easy.

I know how I'll appreciate being awake. I know that it's good for me. I know that I don't like it to be rushed. I know how I learn and grow and rest in this space like no others. But it's still physically painful to switch on the light and surrender to being awake.

Why is it that there are so many things we want to do, dreams to accomplish and places to be that we just can't begin? The girl who knows that she needs to get over "him" continues to answer phone calls and share her heart. The student who wants to go to school and has the right resume just doesn't fill out the application. The friend who talks of world travels fails to buy a plane ticket in time. We hit the snooze button. We get busy, tired, overwhelmed, confused and frustrated. We make up excuses, knowing that we're miserable, knowing that we're not going to benefit from a few more minutes of sleep. In fact, these little bursts of rest probably make it harder to wake up when we actually do get out of bed.

It's not doing what we need to do that's hard. Sometimes it's stuff that we really want to do. But starting is hard. Once the light is on, I'm awake. My day has begun. It's started. And I love it. I love that time in the morning. So why is turing off my alarm clock such an act of discipline...that I don't like very much?

There are a lot of things like this. We want to do something, go somewhere or be different, but we just can't begin. So we wait until tomorrow.The funny thing is that tomorrow never actually comes today. There's always tomorrow. There'll be more time tomorrow. I'll have more motivation tomorrow. I might have a new perspective...tomorrow. But when I do take that tiny first baby step to start whatever I need or want to do, painful as it may be, I begin to embrace living an the abundant life to the fullest to which God has called me. And you.