beautiful distraction.

A couple weeks ago was the TSC retreat, and I attended as always. I've been battling a barrier between me and my King, and He chose this weekend to reveal this analogy to help me understand how to choose Him (whew, that was a mouthful!).

This barrier is a chasm. Me on one side and Christ on the the other, beckoning me to be with Him. But a many chasms are, it a beautiful distraction, and Christ looks small and feels distant. The rushing river below is deafeningly loud, stealing my attention. I can see that it is deep and dark and to fall would be certain death;the darkness consuming, the swift tide sweeping, or the collision shattering.

I call out to Him and I can see that He is calling for me too, but the roar of the river is too loud. Yet I know, He hears me. I yell for help-- for a way to reach Him--and like His refining character, He provides a bridge for me to labor over towards Him. He does not simply close the chasm as His power might suggest, but in His sovereignty chose to give me a way to choose Him.

I step onto the small but firm limb and with each step realize what He is allowing me to overcome. The gorge still plunges, reaching for my heart, claiming fear in the darkness of the unknown. But as I change my view from void to His face, my step becomes light and my foothold sure. I begin to race to the other side, confident of the promise He has made to be all that I need and want. But yet I run to the end of the limb and find that it does not reach the other side. I am confused, but I know that I must cross to conquer for once this gaping chasm. And then clarity comes as I see that this is not an end but an opportunity for faith. I fix my eyes on Him and slowly step where I know there is no support. I do not fall. I blink in astonishment and He is there beside me. He picks me up and carries me across, lifting my fears and expectations from my shoulders to His.

He speaks only these words, "My child, I am so glad you have come."

We walk together and time escapes as He shares Himself and His love for me. The chasm I once knew so vividly still rages behind, but as I walk with Him the roar becomes a mumble and then a whisper until I can hear it no more. Still I never forget what lies behind us because I know that if I were to part with Him, I would find myself back at the gorge or one of many others like it. To cross back over the the other side, I know, would lead only to death.

I remain content, and even filled with joy to walk with Him as he leads me ever into the thickening forest, along the path which He has promised to lead to His home. My home.

Epiphany

I had one today.

Let me clarify: Jesus gave me an epiphany today.

I often mull over how much I love being a goer, how I love being used by the Lord to share the Good News with those who haven't heard. I get to hear about it from the Bible and people with crazy awesome experience at Perspectives, and also from a lot of my close friends. I have also been blessed to be a goer myself at times, most impactfully (?) to South Asia.

Here is my faulty thinking. I often say I'd love to return to South Asia as a goer and reference my love for the people there, the culture, etc., and that I want to share the gift that is Jesus with them. But I've got it all backwards. I need to love Jesus first and more. Why should I be a goer? Because Jesus is my Saviour, my treasure, and my pleasure to share and I want bring Him glory.

Seems so simple, and my head has known this for a long time. But in the action of loving internationals here as I would those nationals overseas, my heart lost track of the ultimate treasure. I began to love internationals from my own limited supply of human love, instead of being filled with His love through meeting with Him. I shared him as a gift, not a treasure.

Now, the adventure begins again. I get to re-discover my King as the indescribable beauty He is.

I just did alot of things this year.

So blogspot, old friend, I'm going to dare to declare once again that "I'm back." But as its been so long since I have been consistent, I'm going to try to appease the bitterness of our separation by updating you on what I've been doing.

I know you're really only interested in the good stuff, so heres a compilation of my last year in a nutshell:

I lived at home this summer. One day I wore my shirt backwards all day long. I had a sweet internship with Every Ethne (everyethne.org) in Iowa City and did graphic design work. I left my power cord home once and drove an hour each way to do two hours of work. I was blessed to teach an amazing Sudanese woman to drive. One day we had a shopping lesson instead. I was able to go to Cornerstone Festival and blow my ears out listening to music for a week. I fried in the sun.

I had the coolest opportunity to study in Ireland this fall. I didn't compensate correctly for my connecting flights and missed my London-Cork flight...by a day. The first four weeks I took an intensive culture class, met amazing friends, and traveled a bunch around Ireland. I left my memory card at home the day I kissed the Blarney Stone. I was able to go to Paris last minute, see a friend, and stay with some awesome Irish students (and of course see the city). I left all my purchases at a restaurant one night. My roommates and I got to spend a couple days in Tenerife, Spain (one of the Canary Islands) off the coast of Morocco. We waited for two hours to get into our 'condo'....that we booked the night before.

My parents got to come visit me and see the beautiful Emerald Isle. I took them to see Harry Potter 7 on Thanksgiving. We were able to go to China to see Gabe and some friends. I left my passport in my apartment 4 hours away in the middle of a snow storm...and realized it at 11 p.m. the night before our flight. I got to see the Great Wall of China! I puked for over 48 hours, got dehydrated and ketonic, and came off the airplane on a wheelchair. I spent my first night in China in the hospital.

Ireland eventually sent me back home. It took a train, bus, 4 flights, and a taxi to get me home 2 days late due to closed airports all across Europe. I'm now enjoying life back in wintry Ames. I slipped on the same piece of ice twice in one day. Family Group with internationals and Salt Company with 800 students has blessed my life so much in the last month. I hit Collin with my car today.

But if you didn't want to read that huge post, what you really need to know about my life is none of that. In a sentence, the last year has been God stretching me, pushing me, and loving me so that my life would be more about His glory.

I do that. ALL the time.

I always thought twitching was a normal part of life. Sometimes you get a slight cold chill up your spine and do a little shiver. Sometimes your eye muscles begin to spasm slightly. You win some, you lose some. Nay, my friend, not so with I. I have begun to realize that my twitches are increasingly intense, frequent, and perhaps...dangerous?

You know how when you drive by a bunch of trees that the sun is shining through, the light flickers really quickly through them? Couple that with my incompetent muscle functionality, and the killer combination provides not one, but multiple twitches/spasms/convulsions in succession. Yeah, you got it. I look like a seizure victim. Could this potentialy be dangerous? Yes, for two reasons: One-driving is a hard thing to do when you can't fully control your faculties. Two- looking attractive is a hard thing to do when you can't fully control your faculties. Two cons for my single lady's marriage resumé, which I will be posting on my blog soon--keep an eye out, and let all your single brothers and friends and friends' brothers know too.

However, one of the more descriptive memories of my twitch encounters happened earlier this fall as I walked through the halls of Cornerstone Church, carrying some Anthem CDs down to the gym for the Salt Company. Swiftly the twitch overcame my muscles, and without a chance for my mind to object, I soon found my arms thrown to one side, and the precious cds strewn all about the floor. Self-control clearly isn't one of my strong points--so much for the Fruit of the Spirit.

And a health note from your self-designated advisor--
This, my friends, is the devastating affect that poor muscle control can have on one's physical self (and personal self (is that redundant?), as I delegate the responsibility of my singlenesss to this very problem). Don't let those soft and squishy guns fool you--they'll get you back for all the times you've foolishly embarrassed them in attempts to bring friends to the "gun show." The lesson in this? Be wise, my friends. Muscles are people, too.