SproutedWheatPBJ's Xanga

Give Me Jesus

Sun, 29 Jun 2008 03:43:16 GMT

I have not written an entry in about a year... busy with many other things, my xanga basically expired, no faithful readers....

But as I was practicing for worship team tomorrow, I listened and practiced a song so beautiful and simple that it was worthy of a xanga post. :)

My heart has been lonely of late... with few friends, and with family fairly far away--a family I love, but a family that still aches with its own problems at home. My heart can become uneasy with uncertainties about the future--with plans, with hopes, and yet without a clear path as to how the Lord will fulfill such plans and His faithfulness in my life. I have no idea where I will eventually end up living, where I eventually will be teaching, if and when I will find that "perfect mate" and be able to marry as I desire and as my friends are--the Lord knows I have some time. And I go to bed with a sigh awaiting a new day which often seems tedious but is still part of the Lord's perfect and blessed plan for my life.

The simple and well-familiar song "Give Me Jesus" helped put things in perspective and once again remind me of the richness of simply knowing Christ--truly, truly our all, our treasure. The lyrics fit perfectly, the violin/ piano rendition by Fernando Ortega soothed my heart with its soft harmonies, and as I toyed with melodies and harmonies on my flute, I spoke forth my own heart. The words say best what bleeds in my inner heart:

In the morning when I rise
In the morning when I rise
In the morning when I rise
Give me Jesus.

Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world,
But give me Jesus.

And when I am alone,
And when I am alone,
And when I am alone,
Give me Jesus.

Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world,
But give me Jesus.

And when I come to die,
And when I come to die,
And when I come to die,
Give me Jesus.

Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world,
But give me Jesus.

My Testimony

Sun, 01 Jul 2007 13:39:36 GMT

I was preparing this morning to share my testimony with an elder at church for consideration for membership. The time of sharing will not be elaborate, but it helps me to write things out before I go and relate them verbally. In so doing, I thought I would paste what I had written of my testimony on this entry, for anyone interested in reading. Enjoy.

Often times I think that I have a so-called “boring” testimony of many church-goers. I grew up in a Christian home. I have always gone to church. I was saved at a young age. Since then I have learned to read my Bible more and pray more and grow closer to the Lord and further in righteousness. It almost seems like a formula, and for some time now I have believed that such a testimony could have little impact upon outsiders whose lives are so much different than mine. I reserved the “sharing-of-testimony” time for the converted drug addicts and prostitutes and formerly legalistic Roman Catholics. However, I read a portion of a book recently in which the author recounted an incident in which an outsider actually did relate more to the typical “formulated” testimony than to one that was radical. Thus, it encouraged me to know that the Lord’s working in my own life is unique and purposeful and can be a tool used to further share the gospel with others as well as I relate my own story. Granted, I have not discovered anyone radically inclined by my own story yet, but it does not mean that no one ever will be.

I did grow up in a Christian home. Both of my parents were Christians, and for as long as I can remember I attended church, throughout the various towns that I have lived in during my life. I attended Loyalton Baptist Church in Loyalton, Glenburn Community Church in Fall River and since moving to Woodland, Woodland Bible Church and now First Baptist Church. My youngest memories, though, do not include having a personal relationship with Christ. Rather, they include learning how to meticulously color in the lines during Sunday School, how to manipulate circumstances selfishly to get my own way, and how to whine profusely and pout when things did not. It was not until moving to Fall River that I came to see that there was more to this Christian life than I was experiencing.

To be honest, there is not a lot that I can recall from my actual conversion experience. I could make up and fill in the details, but then this would not be complete honesty. I think I remember my older brother, Josh, coming to know the Lord just shortly after our family’s move to Fall River Mills, right before I entered the 2nd grade. I vaguely recall noticing the change in my brother and being excited for the difference and wanting that myself. What I do remember though is the day in which I received Christ as Lord myself. The summer before 3rd grade I attended two different Vacation Bible Schools put on by local churches in the area—the town was extremely small, so it was no uncommon to be in closer fellowship with other believers from other churches in the town. In both, a gospel message was clearly presented. I remember some friends accepting Christ during the first, but I was not yet ready to make that decision. During the second, I listened intently as the gospel was presented again. I was scared. I did not want to face eternal condemnation for all my sins, and I wanted to go to heaven, to walk the golden roads and to have a mansion prepared for me. And I wanted to be with my Father in heaven for eternity. Again, I don’t remember with whom or at what point, but I talked with someone afterward, probably a teen leader, who once again explained the gospel message to me and led me through a “sinner’s prayer.” I felt forgiven, my wrongdoings covered by Christ, new life within me because of His death and resurrection, and I knew that I was assured of heaven.

Shortly after my conversion, I was baptized in my church, Glenburn Community Church, along with my twin brother, who had also become a believer, and my dad, who had never been baptized before. That was a special and joyful day. Then I remember buying a Precious Moments Bible, one that now is long tattered and falling apart in many sections (I kept it until I was in 5th grade, I think), listening to the Christian music my brother listened to, and trying to obey the Lord. I even tried, some days, to go without sinning once all day, or to obey my conscience, the Holy Spirit, all day, but found that in my own humanness, this was impossible, and that, even when I failed, or still do, Christ’s grace covers me.

Since then, much has happened in my life. A few years after moving to Fall River, our family moved again, to Woodland, CA. I did not want to move there, not by a long shot, but I can see now how the Lord had his faithful hand in the move. Even in just small things, like being able to be involved in WBC and FBC, like meeting my friends and having the experiences and challenges I did in high school, and in hearing about the Master’s College through a Woodland friend and then deciding to go there, the Lord has had his hand in my life and impacted me in a way I probably would never would have been impacted if I we had moved elsewhere. At a young age, I made some Christian friends, and continued to find them along the way. In junior high and into high school I became much involved with the youth group and looked forward each week to the spiritual refreshment in the middle of the week, even if I was busy with homework.

Certainly, my life has not been without its challenges, and it would take far too much time to elaborate on each and every trial the Lord has brought into my life since then, but I can attest to the Lord’s faithfulness to grow us and mold us more into His image, especially as we are refined by such trials. It has been neat to see the Lords faithfulness through and through despite every single bit of my sinfulness and selfishness, how his grace persists, and how when he should have given up on me long ago. He has not turned away, but on the contrary, drawn me closer to him, and grown me. I have experienced a number of trials, and realize I will likely face many more as they are a means to refinement. I have always trusted the Lord for strength and joy during more difficult times, but even more recently, I have really come to appreciate, actually appreciate trials for their refinement, and sometimes even actually desire them for growth. The Lord has been faithful to strip away idols from me, pride, things I feel my identity rested upon, to show me that HE alone is sufficient, and that I am to serve no other idols besides the Lord. And each day I discover more and more what a wretched sinner I am, but how much his grace covers it all. His mercies show bright each day and allow me to get up each morning and begin each day afresh. They allow me to be a little more like Christ each and every day. And they allow me, when I fall (and I do so often!) to get back up on my feet, and as Micah says, return to the light, my sins having been cast into the depths of the sea. I have absolutely no idea how I would live life today without Christ, and I cannot fathom those who have such empty lives themselves. Even on my most selfish of days, Christ still remains my one wonderful source of strength and joy and peace and confidence, the one whom I lean on and rest. The bliss of heaven once meant for me golden roads and a big mansion and assurance that I would not go to hell. It now means to me a wondrous and eternal relationship with my father in which I will ever grow in understand of and in love with Him, one in which I will finally, FINALLY, be sin-free, one in which I will realize that what I experience tangibly of Him now on earth is only a mere glimmer and taste of the splendor I am to experience of Him for eternity. He is worthy of all glory and worship, and I will worship Him forever.

I Thank the Lord for Sin

Thu, 07 Jun 2007 02:29:15 GMT

I know.... that sounds strange. But I do thank the Lord for sin! I often find myself entangled with sin, frustrated, downtrodden, and accepting the lie that as hard as I try, I will just fall again into patterns of undiscipline and complacency with certain sins. Tonight, I found myself repeating a sin I have been convicted over and found myself discouraged after my commitment to repentance. But then, the Holy Spirit was so faithful to guide me, remind me of the truth of his word, and encourage me! I remembered a verse I had read this morning: "For a righteous man falls seven times, and rises again, but the wicked stumble in time of calamity" (Proverbs 16:24). Seven times seems a lot to fall, but he rises again! He does not give up despite falling! Jonathon Edwards once made a resolution that, despite his own failings time and time again, to never give up but keep fighting his own sin. And that's what we do as righteous people, God's chosen people! It's so easy for me, and perhaps many others, to see sin, feel sorrow for it for a time, but then not follow completely through with patterns of obedience, but rather, to be more discouraged than anything by the sin. Yet what encouragement--what grace!--there is to even have the opportunity to continue to rise again!

Sometimes it takes an act of sin itself to bring us back to our knees crying out in humility and shame to God in order that we may be jolted from our complaceny and reminded of the truthfulness of God's word and His promises and provision in our lives and spirits. It's amazing how God uses even our shortcomings for good--indeed, God works all things for good (Romans 8:28)!!!

I do love the Holy Spirit, how He prompts us, and reminds us at just the best moments of scripture we have studied or thought about. I do love the Lord's faithfulness to never let go of us despite how complacent we can be or how much we have been running (whether we realize it at the time or not) in the opposite direction in patterns of undiscipline and complacency. I do love the Lord's goodness, the Lord's lovingkindness, the Lord's compassion, His gentle prodding that is not harsh and critical and absolutely defeating, but loving and prodding, and painful in a way that absolutely pains us to change so that we may honor our Abba. I love that His direction from the Holy Spirit is clear, not watered or foggy, as so much direction from others can be. I do love the Lord. And I do, oh I do, hate my sin, that sin which clings so closely...

But here I rise again! Praise be to God!

Silver Lake!

Sat, 26 May 2007 05:35:37 GMT

Ah, today was amaaazing! My twin brother made the suggestion last night that we all (minus my older brother in Modesto) go up to Silver Lake for the day--fishing seemed prospectable according to the Sacramento news, and it's simply one of our family's favorite places to go, and a wonderful place to be.

Last night (or this morning?) I stayed up until 4:30 cleaning my room. It has been long overdue, and postponed for a variety of things--applications, buying a car, spending time with friends, day trips (Lake Tahoe).... and now with one day less to work on it, since we were gone today, I wanted to get the biggest chunk of it done last night. Jolt gum (caffeinated gum) kept me going, as well as some encouragement from reading through signatures from old high school year books. And, of course, the Lord's strength... and the motivation to get my room clean because it pleases Him when I am a good steward of all that He gives me.

Anyway... because I was fairly tired come 7:30 am, I drove to Starbucks and bought my family drinks--a sugar free, non-fat vanilla latte for me, an iced decaf for my mom, a light orange mocha frap for my brother, and a coffee of the day for my padre. I bought it mainly for him and the long road ahead of it, even half thinking I woudn't buy anything for myself, but then decided that since I do have extra money right now, and I had the car to transport me there, I would buy for all. And what a blessing to see a smile on all their faces.

Right...... at about 11 am, we headed off on our day's journey, stopping by Wal-Mart to buy some fortifications and other necessities (fishing liscences, etc.), and a yogurt place in Florin (I had a few small bites, but am on a sugar fast with Heather Zorichak and refrained, although that's got to be one of the most amazing textures of yogurt I have ever had!!). Instead of driving the same ol', same ol' freeways, we drove the backway up to Silver Lake through Ione. Ah, it was lovely! Shortly after leaving the general Sacramento area country immediately hit, with a much slower-paced feeling, and down-to-earth people. It was a bit dry for this time of the year, but cows were still grazing and fields were wide open to gaze upon in splendor. The little old towns that we drove too were also wonderful and quaint as well--I get a thrill driving through them each time we do. If I could relocate now, perhaps I'd move to one of this little quaint towns... quite simply lovely, quite simply peaceful, room to think and bask.... room to reflect upon all the Lord has been and is teaching me (now, of course, perhaps I verge on idolizing comfort--I'm not saying I'd actually move here--I'm just saying it would be pretty amazing!).

On the way there I listened to some of the soundtrack from Braveheart (amazing music, and fitting for a whimsical country drive), read some from Piper's Book "When I Don't Desire God: How to Fight for Joy" and some from Francine River's book, "A Voice in the Wind" (part of the Mark of the Lion Series--good reads, and so hard to put down!!). It got to be windy, and books, cars and windy roads do not suit my equilibrium well, so I promptly snatched my twin brother's sidekick, a stuffed camel, and used him for a pillow to take a nap. Of course, he didn't mind--he's very good about serving others (especially me) in this manner, even if his backside is pressed up against the car window and his plastic eye smooshed and scratched. No, he suits me just fine.

I noticed it get breezier and cooler and realized that we were heading into the Silver Lake area--wohoo! The elevation here is between 7000-7500 feet, and there was still some snow on the ground, more so in some places than others. We saw the lake ("I saw the lake!" "I saw the lake!", or so the family tradition goes), and then stopped at Kay's for fishing. I actually didn't fish. I didn't want to buy a $17+ provisional liscence for one day, and though it would be great fun, I'm not sure if I'll be out much more on lakes and rivers to fish again. Instead, I brought everything I needed to go on some good runs. My parents and brother scrambled down on the rocks, and I wiggled in the car's tight corners, changing my clothes and lacing up my running shoes.

The run was wonderful. Since the elevation is so high, it was actually quite difficult to run (in comparison to say, yesterday's run), but it still felt great, and running around Silver Lake was just sooo beautiful and refreshing. I smelled the pine trees, felt the snow, gazed at the silver-sparkling lake, watched an aluminum boat from afar, and let myself free to run, at least up to the end of the 1.5 mile road or so to the Boy Scout cabins (which were all vacant). I then got onto a nearby trail after crossing a bridge with a bubbling snow brook beneath, found a great patch of granite rocks, and sat down and prayed.

There has been so much on my mind, too much or too specific or too personal to elaborate completely in detail here, but I loved spending some solitary time in the mountains and in such beauty alone with the Lord. It was as if the run was a metaphor for my racing, often confused mind, and finally at rest, talking sweetly with my Lord. Unfortunately, the prayer time ( at least in the sitting position on the rock) was cut short because swarms of mosquitos were attacking me. (I woudln't be surprised if I wake up with mosquito "chicken pox" tomorrow!). I did, however, continue it for the remainder of my run, somewhat sporadically, but also spending time to reflect and think. I did the first trek there and back listening to Braveheart on my ipod, and then I ran it all over again, this time "naked" (that is, without an ipod), which allowed so much more freedom, freedom in thought, freedom in movement, etc. I ran with my digital camera with me this time and took a handful of beautiful shots--my camera's not the greatest of quality, but I was at least able to capture some good shots. I even found a sign in front of the house that read "The Parker's"--I had to take that picture for my roommate, Kim Parker.

We left the lake, and my bro and I did a mini hike up Tragedy Springs to get some really good spring water. (Ah, sure beats Woodland water any day!). We then drove back home, this time via the Immigrant Trail backroads--again, some beautiful, beautiful stuff as the sun was beginning to set.

We arrived in Placerville and had Pizza Factory--this has been tradition to eat here ever since we have been going to Apple Hill in the fall (for as long as I remember), and the pizza was, as always, great! My mom liked the cheese, I liked the sweet crust, and so we were all happy. It just brought back some good, nostalgic memories, since I have not been able to go to Apple Hill since I've been away at college. I kept reading Francine Rivers until we arrived in Woodland....

On a deeper level, there are some great things I appreciated about the day. For one, the entire family was in amazingly good spirits, and I just grew in my appreciation for my beloved family. It sure was great for my dad especially to just visit some of HIS favorite places, bringing back a flood of memories, letting his own mind free to be cleared and think again after a very busy week. Praise God for that. Secondly, it spurred my thinking about the purpose of enjoyment, which was very fitting to Piper's first chapter in "When I Don't Desire God: How to Fight for Joy." I often feel like I should not be enjoying anything--I realize this is skewed, but partly this stems from the often very serious minded TMC students with some convictions that I don't always agree with (and don't get me wrong there! I do love the truth and teaching at Master's, as well as the people). I just feel tugged with the lie that if I am enjoying something, then I am probably doing something wrong. I enjoyed this day so much, the amazing beauty of God's creation throughout Northern CA, the peace it brought to my mind, the time I had to pray and reflect, the run, and how much I love running, etc. And I do believer, with the proper mindset, we can enjoy these things, and ultimately MUST have joy, joy in the Lord, as it is commanded!! There are certain things that are unique to me, things I am passionate about. And perhaps TMC puts too much emphasis on placing head knowledge above all else, or fitting a cookie cutter mold, but God has created each of us so uniquely, with different gifts, with different passions, with different things that make our hearts leap with excitement. We have but a short time on this earth, and I believe it IS wasted if we do not respond to the individual ways God has created us and enjoy these things for His praise and glory. So I ran a lot, and maybe others woudln't do this--so what? I loved it!! So I was in bliss for the beauty of God's creation, and maybe others would find their time better spent studying books in a library--oh, I loved the Creation!! And praise God for who He's made ME to be, praise Him that is is HIM on who we fix our hope, the one who "richly supplies us with all things to enjoy" (1 timothy 6:17).

How Great Thou Art... praise Him!!

Friday, May 25, 2007

Fri, 25 May 2007 04:43:58 GMT

Well.... I had my first truly "aaammmmmaaaaazing" run of the summer. It's been a struggle, as I've been out of shape, not having run as much as I am used to last semester, but here I am home, able to eat better and healthier food, able to increase my health and fitness and run for the joy God provides for me so richly. I do believe that He is most glorified when we are good stewards of the gifts He has given us and when we work diligently so that we may be able to perform out best and them AND enjoy them as best as we can. I struggled with this thought this semester, after having chosen to not run cross country for my senior year. Should I be running? Maybe I should neglect running, since I have no reason to run, and simply place my focus on my studies and people. Is running wrong? Why do people look at me as if I am doing something wrong going out for a 9 mile run if I am not running cross country? I shouldn't be allowed to have such joy--perhaps it's selfish. Ah, my thinking, at times, was skewed, skewed because of some convictions at TMC that people set as black and white, when they are actually gray. Yes, some very well might say that I was being selfish going on so many runs, but here at home, when I find the wind in my back, when I have that time of escape and rest away from everything, when I have my ipod on such encouraging music, or even nonsense, or no ipod at all, when I have such great time to think and pray, or even just time to not think at all... when my legs start moving and my heart starts beating, when I increase my speed and just go for it, when my legs feel like elastic and I can't help but smiling, at myself, at the Lord for the gift He's given for my blessed enjoyment, at the others that I pass.... I definitely believe the Lord is glorified!!!

Today's run felt good. I went out for my "Woodland favorite 9," and 8.5 mile loop that I love around Woodland. I had swam this morning and worked out with weights, so I was expecting to be somewhat heavy, but I actually felt springy and quick, for the first time this summer, after taking two weeks off the week before and the week of finals. At one point, some muscular man was running, but no no, no one would beat me.... (okay, okay... I suppose that's a bit prideful. ), so I ran ahead of him and kept a good pace. It was so fun--it felt like a race and reminded me of my racing days, then got me thinking about the marathon I have my eyes sat on in November. I certainly will miss cross country (the reasons for not running will have to wait for another entry), but there is no reason I cannot enter road races or a marathon or two... my competition does not have to end. And my hot pink Nike racing flats do not have to merely hang on a nail on my running wall--they can, no, they will be once again on my feet, little bobbles of some sort sticking out from my pom-pom socks.

I ran into my dad on my run! He was out on his 1.5 hour walk, finally done with school and meetings for the day, so that was an added blessing. Haha! We chatted for a bit, I offered him my ipod for music, but he let me keep it. I came in and finished my run about 8:50, just as it was starting to get dark.

Ah, praise God for the millions of blessings that He gives us daily, so many things that He gives us to enjoy that we don't deserve. Praise Him for gifts we can exercise to bring back glory to Him. And praise Him.. as we seek Him, He blesses us all the more. Praise, praise Him!

A Few Mistakes, and Still, the Lord's Grace and Blessings Remain

Mon, 14 May 2007 05:14:20 GMT

I am not perfect. Oh, how sometimes I wish sanctification were an immediate microwave version, and all my sinfulness would be done away with, but sanctification is a process, often one that finds itself falling and then rising back up again by the Lord's strength.

Last night was such an instance of my own shortcomings. It was such a long day, and full of blessings, but also humbling as I found myself weak and not making the best of choices.

My parents came Thursday night to help move me out. We went to Stonefire for dinner (ah, amazing!), and then finished up the rest of our packing the next morning. I got to spend some good time with my dad on Friday morning, out to Vons to get Goo-gone and cleaning supplies, and a bagel to split, then to Coffee Kiosk to pick up our drinks, a large coffee of the day for him and a small non-fat sugar free carmallato for me. We came back and I scrub, scrub, scrubbed to try to get that permanent mounting tape off, but it certainly did take a while! I should have planned ahead--I was five minutes late for my checkout time, and still had not vaccuumed (with a shopvac) the insides of my drawers (something I wasn't used to, as Hotchkiss, and then IBEX never required this). I was charged $10 for being 4 minutes late for my checkout (after being charged $11 to stay an extra night, although others staying for other reasons did not have to pay). I suppose I did not have the greatest attitude about having to pay, when my other RD would have given me grace, and other girls were given grace because they were checked out by RAs and not the RD, but then I realized over the course of the day that I received just what I had deserved--to be fined. I had not followed the rules, and I was not out on time. I could have chosen to be deceitful (since I did not attend the dorm meeting and was not aware of the specific Dixon rules, except through a friend who kindly printed out a great checklist for me), and maybe could have received grace this way, but I in now way wanted to be deceitful as such, so I simply asked, "I'm really sorry... How much do I owe for being late?" My dad, who's a teacher, explained to me better the importance of the $10 rule--with so many people checking out, if there was not such a rule, then many others would be late (probably much more than my 4 minutes) and things would not be done efficiently, and respect would not be shown. Certainly, I did get what I deserved (even if I would have received grace by other people....), and anything more would have been underserved mercy. It reminded me of how incredibly grateful I am to NOT have received the justice due me from the Lord, at least on my own accord. Justice has been payed for all of my wrongdoings, but not through my own eternal pain and condemnation and seperation from the Lord, but because of Christ, who bore all of that horrendous wrath for me. Thus, I didnt like paying the fine, but it allowed me to go away grateful, to realize that I should have been responsible to be ready on time, to make sure I am responsible in all areas in the future, and ultimately, it allowed me to once again be grateful for the merciful cross.

After this I got to see a good ol' friend who graduated last year, my running buddy from IBEX, Josh Zeichek. We talked for a bit and caught up, and then Heather Z (my IBEX roommate) also came to say hello. I then went to Golden Spoon, then back to my room to get ready for a wedding that night.

The wedding was amazing--nicely decorated, great music, fun people to hang out with. The message (biblically centered, as an exhortation to the married couple) was encouraging. The good was tasty. The dancing so wonderful, to let go and be free (off contract, so perfectly legally!!). My weaknesses, then, were shown I suppose during, but brought out AFTER the wedding.

As I was walking with Kyle, my ride, to get my cell phone, I looked at the time on the phone and realized how late it was. It was 9:30.... and I still had to get back to Santa Clarita from Riverside, and THEN catch up with my parents and drive all the way to Fresno. I looked at my phone--about 17 missed calls from my mom, and then got a sinking feeling in my heart. My parents will be so upset. Oh, I feel absolutely awful. Why did I forget my phone in the car? Why couldn't I have kept track of the time? Could I have even found a ride home earlier? Oh, maybe with Dan and Cindy.. oh, my parents... I said I'd be home about 8! I had no idea how late it is! I quickly called my mom, and, not ot my surprise was received with not-so-pleasant of a greeting, just what I deserved for such irresponsibility and selfishness and lack of respect. It was difficult for me to deal with my parents becoming upset, since generally, such things do not happen that often, and I burst out in tears--in front of all my friends. Grace came and comforted me and gave me a good backrub and just listened to all that was on my mind--more than simply heavy guilt for my immediate wrong-doings. I then recalled my parents (in the midst of it, I had hung up.... not being able to talk to well), and since it was my own fault for being so late, we agreed that I would find a place to stay that night and find a way home the next day--my parents needed to get to a motel in Fresno that night, and NOT in the morning (even so, they ended up there at 12:45, I think). It was hard to have to swallow (humbly) that I had made a mistake, that I had upset my parents a day before Mother's day when things were going so well, and we hadn't argued at all. It was hard to swallow that I'd have to pay $120 for a plane ticket home the next day..... but despite it all, it was a blessing.......

First, it was a blessing, because it reminded me of the fact that I am weak. I think that day I had started it off on good terms with my family (and generally, they are, but I can still find myself sinful and selfish and disrespectful at times, as I think we all might), more so on my own strength. Even though I could have done a lot of blame-shifting or justification of the situation that night, the clear thing that it was my fault, and I had been inconsiderate and dishonoring to people I love dearly, my parents. Thus, I realized ever more how much I need the Lord's strength in every situation to be able to walk rightly in a manner that is constantly honoring to Him.

Secondly, I had friends there who were willing to listen and lightly uplift my downtrodden spirit. Grace was there, despite my sobbing, to just listen and comfort me and calm me down and pray for me. Kyle was there to give me a ride (since most others had left) even though it was 2 hours out of his way and already quite late in the night to embark on such a drive. We got to listen to Disney music on the way home, and, although I felt bad for my disrespect, he encouraged me not to be anxious about the situation. My parents too, were forgiving and understanding (and have since had a blessed day today, all through Mother's Day, my dad, when I apologized for about the 30th time, saying that "that bridge was already under the water," and my mom, as sweet as she always is, forgiving me relatively quickly, and truly caring that I found a place to stay for the night and a way to get home.

Thirdly, I DID find a place to stay. I called my old Hotchkiss RD to see if i could stay on campus another night, and that might have worked, but I was not sure I wanted to pay another $11. I then remembered that I could call Dr. Halstead. I did. He didn't answer either his cell or his home phone, and I couldn't get ahold of him. Then I remembered the Carpenters.

The Carpenters are some of my favorite people--two amazing, godly, genuine, witty, fun people whose romance is still so alive after all these years. They are the grandparents of one of my dearest friends, Lauren Thompson, originally from my home town, and I have spent other nights at their house and have been able to get rides to and from the aiport from Mr. Carpenter on several occassions. I called Dr. Carpenter (Shirley) up and told her of my situation, and she was more than happy to house me, despite it being a bit late. I got to her house about 12:15, and she was still up waiting for me, in her night gown, of course, but still up and relatively warm and energetic. She gave me a warm hug, brought me in, asked me if I was hungry (I said I was, having only eaten a 1/2 a bagel, coffee, a mini frozen yogurt and a healthy sized dinner that day), and so she fed me ice cream--light vanilla and rocky road. Then she said she just wanted to chat a bit, which we did, about Lauren (my dear friend, her grandaughter), about my family at home, about my summer plans, etc. And it was 12:15 at night, and she is in her 70's, and church was the next morning!!! She then showed me where the towels were (I remembered, from the last time I stayed there) and then showed me my room, whose bed already had the sheets folded down, inviting me in. I then got ready for bed and shut out the light, grateful for such a wonderful, wonderful, gracious, hospitable woman to take me in on such short notice, and grateful, although I was not with my family that night (my mom would have been snoring anyway, haha) to have some time with the Carpenter's who I really respect, admire and look up to.

The next morning (this morning) I got ready for church at Placerita Baptist, and had breakfast with Dick Carpenter, who brought out a zillion cereals for me to choose from. (He also took the phone from me when I was talking to my mom with mother's day greetings and told her that I owed a $708 bill.... haha). It was nice to chat with him.... also went with him later after church to go buy some pies from Coco's... that was fun too. I went to PBC, which was a blessing as well, a message on being obedient to and honoring our parents (should have been fresh in my mind the night before... but still, it was a good reminder!). I went back to the house, now with the McKinney's (Mr. and Mrs. had also stayed the night, and Bethany and Allison joined them for lunch). Mr. McKinney and Mr. Carpenter prepared a BBQ mothers day lunch, and I was able to get a good nap in, very much tired from everything. The lunch was great--a little awkward I must say, since it wasn't my family-- but still quite tasty. And in the middle of it, James Parker called and said that he could give me a ride to the airport, which was a great blessing, since I did not want to interrupt the family affairs of the Carpenter's and McKinney's.

Oh, the Lord graciously provided for my needs in so many ways. It's amazing how wonderful the Lord's mercy and grace are! After showing disrepect to my parents, why should I think that I should receive blessings from the Lord? Yet the Lord, by His grace, still continues to bless us, doesn't reward us as our iniquity deserves, and is ever faithful t provide for all of our needs--even petty ones! I had make-up because I had brought it along with me yesterday afternoon to fix myself up before I left for the wedding. I had my straightener for the same purpose. I had an extra shirt to sleep in, because I had left my change of clothes on my bed in my dorm room when my parents came and picked me up for Golden Spoon before I met Kyle at Master's to head to the wedding. I was able to use shower stuff in the Carpenter's shower. I was able to use an alarm clock in the room, since my phone (my usual source for alarm) had died. I had dress clothes for a church, because I had attended the wedding. I had my credit card to buy a plane ticket and my liscence to get through security at the aiport--and those originally wouldn't have been on me--for some reason, my liscense was out of my wallet when I was packing up my dorm stuff (it, i think, was just loose in my "important things" drawer), and my dad ran across it and asked me if I wanted to keep it on me. I also noted the location of my credit card (which I don't like to use, but will in emergencies, as yesterday was) and had that on me as well, instead of packed in the van with most of my other important things (passport, other forms of payment, student ID, etc.). I had much needed encouragement. I had money in my student account (extra money--$1100, sent as a check to my home) to pay for the ticket.... and I think the list could go on and on. It was just a striking reminder of how great the Lord's faithfulness, love, provision, kindness, was to me.

And now I am home. On my REAL double bed in my room full of silver packing bins and frumpled sheets and comforters stripped from my dorm bed. Its quite messy and will have to wait for the morning to be tackled. But I am home. My parents have forgiven me. The Lord has continued to teach and chisel me and remind me of His good love and providence. And the praise, all the praise, belongs to Him.

Friday, March 30, 2007

Fri, 30 Mar 2007 14:37:18 GMT

Just attended a memorial service of a dear family member, my cousin... the time was rich, and there is much to write, so Lord willing, I will write soon.

Friday, March 23, 2007

Fri, 23 Mar 2007 00:26:12 GMT

I often pray for the growth of my friends, but more recently, I've really been praying for the growth of my family members who I love so dearly. I should pray more consistently for such dear ones! The Lord is faithful to answer prayer, but sometimes not in the ways in which we would imagine or even like. James 1:2-4 exhorts us to, "consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." I have found that in my life, the times of greatest growth are those in which I am pressed and tried, brought to tears or agony or frustration or seeming despair, and yet how rich it is to be chiseled and brought nearer to the Lord. Even so, some trials have been painful--my grandfather, who was sooo incredibly dear to me, passed away this last semester, an unbeliever. My coach's daughter Logan passed away just recently. And now my dad's cousin, the closest relative and friend we have on my dad's side, since his mom passed away when I was eight, is lying in a hospital bed, her kidneys shut down, and perhaps she will not even make it through the night. This was all sudden and unexpected. She has been weak, certainly, having had MS since she was in her 20s, and having been confined to a wheelchair several years ago, but even just at Christmas, she was so bright and spunky, as we sat around our family, and her and her husband, enjoying a Christmas Eve meal purchased specially at Bel Air. And, in being in such pain, it would be nice for her to have a new body with no pain, but she has only recently, within the last couple years or so, been exposed to the gospel--my dad said that Colleen and Marguarite (relatives who live in her area--my aunt and her daughter in law, I think, is the relation) had talked to her--these women are strong believers, and I don't know what conversations were passed, but they seemed to have some assurance that she would be going to heaven. I don't know. I can only pray, as I have been all day. And, then, pray for the growth of my family, which I have been so diligent to do--this is NOT what I would have wanted, and yet the Lord uses all circumstances for good, ultimately for His glory and our continued sanctification. I pray especially for my dad, who was so very close to Holly, that he will seek the Lord's comfort during this time and come to trust the Lord more. May the Lord be glorified and praised in everything... even in moments like these.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Mon, 12 Mar 2007 22:16:46 GMT

I attended the memorial service for my cross country coach's 6 year old daughter this past Saturday. It was a rather emotional time for many of us, but I found it to be an incredible encouragement to be in attendance.

I have attended a handful of funeral and memorial services within my life, but most have been (tragically) of passing unbelievers, relatives who died without never knowing the Lord (to the best of my knowledge), making such passings so incredibly difficult and without hope, except in the fact that the Lord is sovereign over all and willed this to be such. Such times make me that much more grateful for my very own undeserved salvation.

This service was different, and with the passing of the young Logan, who WAS a believer, such hope filled the atmosphere. Several songs were sung, centering on the theme of hope, and the gospel was presented by different people (a young friend, the father, the pastor, etc.) at least three times in a clear manner. There were definitely elements of nostalgic sadness, as Logan's artwork was framed and placed throughout the building, as a slideshow of her young life ran up on the main screen, and as her father shared some happy memories of her. Even so, joy in the midst of pain filled the room, and it compelled me, and certainly many others, to bow my heart before the Lord in worship, and long for heaven that much more myself, to be "homesick" for the home to which I ultimately belong, free from this tainted body and this sinful world. Thus, I was grateful for the time of worship that we had, lead by Aaron Johnson and Kim Parker (my roommate), and such an event made the worship that much sweeter.

It was convicting to hear of Logan's faith and also to see the faith of her little 12 year old babysitter/ friend, who despite it all, was able to proclaim about what hope their was in this passing, that Logan was in heaven, as the Lord ordained, and that this was her time of homecoming. As a 12 year old her faith was continually chiseled. I dont know if I could say the same for myself if I were merely 12 years old--perhaps, as I was a believer when I was 12--but I'm not sure. Moreover, seeing the incredible faith of Dan (my coach) and Cindy ( his wife) was an incredible encouragement to me. I cannot imagine the devastating pain they might be experiening, and yet they were able to proclaim with full confidence and joy the hope we have in Jesus Christ. Such a service reminded me to strive to live in light of eternity, where we are bound to be headed, and to glorify the Lord in all areas of my life, something in which I can find myself falling short of. What a tragedy, but what a sweet encouragement from the Lord for me and for others, in that through this, our own faith is being refined. In this sense, and likely countless others, Logan's passing is a gift.

Monday, March 05, 2007

Mon, 05 Mar 2007 05:38:05 GMT

Praying for the death of my former cross country coach's daughter, the little blonde who might have someday grown up to be so beautiful, praying for the many, many sins that have left me on my knees, or rather, my back, outside, on the astroturf staring up at the cloud splattered sky, the clouds gently sweeping by the moon in a melodic rythm, praying for the wisdom of friends who need it badly, praying for the growth and sustanance of others, praying for the relationship I have with my best friend, which has been sharpened, though through pain in the process.... praying with tears outside on the astroturf alone. Alone. Where I can talk to God alone, as the only one who truly understands all the expressions of my heart--the only one whom I am not tempted to please by shallow words, but can express my heart openly and freely. It's been quite the weekend.