Thursday, September 29, 2011

Sometimes lost, always found.

Stood up for Alyosha's honor and humanity today but it sucked all of mine right away. I deflated, felt extirpated, like I was just a guilty stain, that he just needed to vomit and flush me out.

Really if he even indicated he misses me or that I was ever worth anything--you know, like a woman preoccupying her mind in search of a lost coin, the shepherd's mindful numbering of that lost sheep, the child retracing her steps to find that lost sticker whose gummy reverse was no longer sticky from her moving it between her hand and her shirt... or a friend lamenting a lost friend... then it wouldn't do such violence to my lost heart.

Instead, he builds so much happiness on my heartbreak. Tosses me aside like litter, drops me carelessly. As it goes with any trash, whether it's just a little wrapper to get at the thing you actually want, in which case you'll hardly even notice it's missing. Or whether it's a big mess and heavy burden, in which case you are relieved and rejoicing to be rid of it. Why am I so easy to part with? Why was I forgotten and overlooked? My evaluation of myself and his of me... So condemning. So suffocating. And I got so lost in those tears and fears.

In the shadows of that steep valley the LORD came after me, He found me. He wrapped His words around me and absorbed my tears with His rod and staff in ways 2-ply tissues couldn't.
I see you, girl, I see you,
and I've got you like none other.
I noticed you'd turned your gaze from Me...
so I came looking for you.
I'll always find you.
I'll always reach you.
I cast away sins, not sinners.
You have Me, you'll always have Me.
Maybe someday, Alexeichik will not cast me out with my sin.
Maybe someday, but not today.

So I will wait and watch, pray and plead.
So I will wait and hope, not for the maybes and somedays, not for him.
But I will wait for the LORD alone,
Who always comes through.
Who sees AND finds me.
Who knows AND loves me.
Who forgives AND heals me.
He is the Lifter of my head.
He is the Fixer of my gaze.
I will wait and take heart, be hidden in Him, be found through faith--because the lost her is not the true me. Though I lose myself, I am not lost if He makes me, He is no loser; He's a Seeker & Chooser, a Finder & Keeper.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

I feel stuck

And all I see
It could never make me happy
And all my sand castles
Spend their time collapsing

Let me know that You hear me
Let me know Your touch
Let me know that You love me
And let that be enough

It's my birthday tomorrow
No one here could know
I was born this Thursday
22 years ago

And I feel stuck
Watching history repeating
Yeah, who am I?
Just a kid who knows he's needy

Let me know that You hear me
Let me know Your touch
Let me know that You love me
And let that be enough

Monday, September 26, 2011

so we are always of good courage.

We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil.

so we do not lose heart.

Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen.


Bike rack friends like Rachel, Rafa, and Jay are such a special breed. You get acquainted checking out each others' rides, show you care and remember by noticing each other's new bar tape and pedals, bond over cocondemning that douchebag's inconsiderate lock job and scheming to protect the world from his ways by applying spermicide to his seat. Dwight worthy.

So Jay you wear a helmet now finally?
Yeah close call this summer almost got doored. And you? You're cycling more, I see your bike out here every day...
Cycling?! No cycling is for people who wear spandex. I am biking more though it's my primary mode of transportation...

But actually I have been wearing more spandex than ever in my life. We laugh about D III athletics and mascots... Beavers, really? And how quadraplegics would cover more ground, get it? Am grateful to be back on my pony with the hurts-so-good daily burn of micro-tears, and a good exhaustion at every night, remembering that not so long ago, a fat suit and ugly clothes felt like armor. Learning the discipline of sleep because tomorrow begins tonight, there was evening, and there were new mercies, a new day. Blessed are You o Lord Who daily renews....

Day at a time, lezzgoooo.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Tears in Heaven

Weep, but not as those who have no hope.
He'll let your tears into heaven, you know--
They're not just gonna disappear like they never mattered.
He'll let them in, so that He can wipe every one of them away.
And you'll see him clearly, with eyes unmarred by tears,
You'll sorrow no more.
Someday, someday soon.
Someday in a short while, He will.
Lord, come dab just a few today.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

In these days, we return not only to our hurt but also to Your help.

President Obama reads Psalm 46 at Ground Zero.

God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear...

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God...
God will help her when morning dawns.

Come behold the works of the LORD...
"Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!"
The LORD of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Friday, September 9, 2011

To RBC, a free bird.

Before the abolition, there was once a northerner who went to a slave auction and purchased a young slave girl. As they walked away from the auction, the man turned to the girl and told her, "You're free." 
With amazement she responded, "You mean, I'm free to do whatever I want?" 
"Yes," he said. 
"And to say whatever I want to say?" 
"Yes, anything." 
"And to be whatever I want to be?" 
"And even go wherever I want to go?" 
"Yes," he answered with a smile. "You're free to go wherever you'd like." 
She looked at him intently and replied, "Then I will go with you."

Adapted from Surprised by Grace, by Tullian Tchividjian.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Notes along a mournful mountain climb, 2.

A week into NYC, I was off and up set with the cold dawning that the climb that I had thought and hoped would end at Easter was not over. It had just begun. Until we see Him face to face, it will always just be beginning.

I have not died enough. I was crippled in the shadow of how staggeringly high the hills were yet. How fortified were my high places. How deeply rooted were my idols and fears. How those unsummoned memories were prisons still.

But He is for my joy. More joy, more freedom, more wholeness than I wanted for myself. More than all that was secured by Lyoshenka. More rest and safety, then, than he could shatter. More love, not less.

Along the way, I've wondered if I hadn't lost my way.
Why does it feel like death, if this be the path of life?
If my climb was the worthy one. How do I know?
Repentance is much more than a U-turn. Repentance is a climb. A long and arduous climb where we fight against the gravity of our sin, the weight of our flesh, and the weakness of our will. To repent is to press on, to take another step closer to the summit yet unseen. 
He leads me in Right paths. 
The Shepherd found me in the deep ravines, broken and lost. He rescued me, and restored me. He is teaching me to climb these high hills in search of the rising sun. 
Here we go, back to the mournful--but joyful!--mountain road.
Simply amazed, I am not abandoned.
You can never lose me.

You give me a cloud of martyrs--those who've died well.
SO GRATEFUL today for Jerry/RBC/Jon/Irene/Mox/M/George/Nikelle/Kev/Kash.
You give me Yourself. You died well.
You make my steps sure.
You say, die well, and so live.
you'll get there, you know.
to eternity's shore.
day at a time.
sunrise to sunrise.
I'll see to it.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Shepherd my anger.

I feel angry… not angry at someone in particular, but about many things in general. I don’t do anger well, Jesus, so really shepherd my anger. I usually stuff it deep—into a dark cellar where it grows like mold. I don’t want old hurts to barrel into the present situation, making it hard to stay engaged, gentle and kind. I’m certain I want to honor you more than I want to feel vindicated. // Scotty Smith

When the unsummoned, unwelcome past invades the day, Lord act. Heal. Love.

When I'm not certain of your love, I resort to unhealthy, destructive choices.

"Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs” (Jonah 2:8). I don’t want to be swallowed by something big just to be brought back to gospel sanity, yet again. So shepherd me now, Jesus, to your glory and my growth.

Monday, September 5, 2011

You are autumn.

still I notice You when change begins
and I am braced for colder winds
i will offer thanks for what has been and whats to come

// nichole nordeman