but i'm all by myself

I'm sure we've all experienced it at one time or another. I know I have--many times. All at once, for no apparent reason, it feels like this huge ocean has opened up around me and I'm all by myself. No matter how trivial the happening that prompted the feeling--it could be something as simple as a word misplaced, or a sudden reminder of the fact that I don't know what it's like to be in a classroom...and just that quick, I feel so horribly, desperately alone.

It might not even arise from the fact that I'm homeschooled or that I have a big family. It could just be that I'm a Christian and, just once, one of the people I know makes a comment that I know is wrong, or that is disparaging towards my faith...and boom, I'm outside the "circle" again. Feeling lonely is never quite comfortable. No matter who it's around, or if feeling left out isn't particularly a bad thing, it's not a nice feeling. It's a human thing, I suppose: we want to belong somewhere, to know that people like us. And when we feel as if they don't, as if we have no place in the world around us, it gets quite uncomfortable very quick.

There's a verse I teach to kids in the after-school programs I teach. Hebrews 13:5 is a promise from God to those who have believed in Him. "He has said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." Though the world is crazy, though the people around us may not be welcoming, though we may feel lonely, we have a friend who is greater than any of them, who sticks closer than a family member, who will never leave us, whose arms are always open to receive us. You are never alone, you are never forgotten. He is always with you.

daughter

to a family whom He blessed

one young daughter

heaven-kissed

so they mold her

teach her true

she will be a one for You

her life is challenging

'tis true

but she loves and that love is true, too

without complaint

without regret

she serves with no thought for what she might get

holding up

not tearing down

ever guiding others to the Throne

a friendly greeting

a quiet prayer

helping hands joined together

a home she loves

a family dear

a God whose love is never 'mere'

God is her one

her only true friend

He is her king

through Him

she can be.

i have a dream

When I visited China in June of 2011, the summer camps I attended had a procession of guest speakers, most of them drawn from the camp leadership. They talked to us about various values--integrity, honesty, virtue. We had talks on being the leaders the twenty-first century needs, on working our hardest today so we could reap benefits tomorrow. Pretty standard stuff, most of it, or at least as much as I could understand (at the first camp we were at, most lecture sessions were in Chinese. You can imagine how much I took away from those sessions. The second camp was far more enjoyable, since most of the camp was done in English, so as to help the students practice their language skills).

Most of those lectures have been lost in the tide of memory, overwhelmed by the faces of the friends I made and the few words of Chinese I managed to pick up and retain. But one of the sessions has stuck with me, and it's something that I've returned to often over the past year and a half, because it is so wonderful to think about.

The subject was about our dreams. Not the stirrings of our subconscious that come in sleep, of course--no, the daydreams, the things we fill ourselves with in our idle moments. The dearest wishes of our hearts.

The speaker talked about the essence of a dream. And it was then that he said the one thing that has most stuck with me. There is a difference between goals and dreams, he said. Goals are the things that are achievable. My goal is to go to the Children's Ministry Institute. It is something tangible, something I can actually accomplish. Your goal might be to be a doctor; it is attainable. Someone else's dream might be to become a lawyer; it, too, is attainable.

These things are not dreams, not really. They are goals, benchmarks we have set for ourselves. But they are not dreams, not really, because we can get them. A dream is something beyond that. A dream is something so crazy, so remote, so seemingly impossible in the eyes of men that it becomes almost laughable when seen for what it really is. These dreams surpass everything we can dare to hope. But that's what makes them beautiful.

Because there is a God in heaven. And this God delights in taking what seems impossible and turning it into possibility--and fact. He turns the sun backwards to give his children victory. He parts seas. He makes a hundred-year-old woman have a baby. He sends his son to earth to become a savior. He seems to revel in the impossibilities he makes fact, waiting to blow our minds time and time again, if not with what he's done directly for us, then with the sheer magnificence of the world and the universe he has created around us.

This God knows the deepest desires of your heart. He knows your Dream, no matter how crazy. And I do believe that he will fulfill them, if you believe. Perhaps not completely, perhaps not entirely in the way we'd expected. But hey, I have full confidence that he's going to give every child a home and heal every parent's heart and ensure that every part of the world is at peace and prosperous, with enough to get by on.

Hey, this is God we're talking about. He takes murderers and turns them into preachers. He's got this.

the feel of a season

I've never quite liked Christmas as a holiday. It always seemed such a bother: people never seem to have time to spend simply sitting and enjoying it. They're always consumed with other things, like buying presents and navigating tricky supermarket interchanges, and making sure that everything for Christmas dinner is just right because if it isn't Aunt Millicent will be dreadfully upset, and above all, never ever letting on that there is anything odd about the materialism that somehow seems to have sprung up around a celebration that has been about Jesus' birth ever since Christendom got a hold of it.

So perhaps to say that I don't like Christmas is an overstatement. I quite like Christmas as an idea, and as a season. Perhaps it's simply that society has ruined it for me.

You see, I love decorating for Christmas. I love nativity scenes; if they could stay whole in my house, I'd have dozens of them, all perfectly arranged (there is only one right way to arrange each individual nativity set, and once you find it, never move the figures, or else you'll ruin it forever). I love Christmas lights, especially driving down silent streets looking out at them, glittering in the darkness. I love sitting by firelight and candlelight, and reading some homey epic that makes you feel simultaneously quite daring and quite comfortably at home wherever you happen to be (I've only done this once or twice, but my future house will have a fireplace so I can do it lots). I adore curling up next to a window in a hoodie and thick socks, a cup of cocoa in hand, to read almost as much--and it has the added bonus of being quite splendid for acting out whatever I'm reading with my quite-slippery socks across hardwood floors...because who doesn't want to be a slippy-slidey version of Legolas defeating the Mumak?

I love dancing around to Christmas carols, or standing in an echoing chapel and singing a quiet version of Silent Night--I especially love dancing in the snow and belting out "Jingle Bells" or "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" at the top of my lungs. I love hearing about Mary, the simple Jewish girl who was chosen to give birth to the Messiah. I love learning new things about the beginning of Christ's earthly journey. I love thinking forward through that journey, seeing what this beginning would eventually achieve, how it would change the world.

Most especially, I love simply sitting, and thinking about this miracle.

Jesus, son of the Almighty God, become Emmanuel. 

The Highest, Jehovah, Lord of Glory, I Am, the upholder of all things, the Alpha and Omega, ending and beginning. 

The Wisdom, the Power, the Might, the Messenger, the Word, the Flesh, the Image.

Son of Man, Son of God, Prophet, Servant, Son.

Savior, the Same, the Lamb, the Shepherd, the Sacrifice.

The Bread, the Tree, the Living Water, the Rose, the Lily, the Branch.

The Light, Strength, Hope, a Refuge, Horn of Salvation.

The Rock, the Redeemer, the Foundation, the Cornerstone, the Temple, the Offerer, the Offering.

The Gift of God, God's Beloved.

The Way, the Truth, the Life, the Covenanter, the Witness.

The Head, the Ensign, the Captain, the Shield, the King, the Lord, the Crowned one.

All of that. All that he was. All that he will be forevermore. And he became a man. And not all at once, oh no. First he became a baby. A tiny, helpless, crying thing that can't even move on its own. That was what the Lord of the universe, a being beyond all human conception, became.

All for us.

And that, to me, is why I love the Christmas season most of all. Yes, it's not technically the time that Jesus was born. He wasn't born anywhere near what we call Christmas. And yes, "Christmas" is technically derived from some pagan festival until it was roughly made "acceptable" by the Catholic Church...but you know what? I don't really care. Because it is yet another chance to simply sit and marvel at how great my God is. And I'm not going to pass up a single reminder to do that.

My Peace, my Righteousness, my Lord, my Master, was made a helpless baby so that he might go to the cross.

Hark the herald angels sing

Glory to the newborn King

a biblical lady

lady - (n)

1. A well-mannered and considerate woman with high standards of proper behavior.

2. A woman regarded as proper and virtuous

There are all sorts of people in the world. There are loud people and quiet people, outgoing people and shy people, crafty people and wordy people, hands-on people and theoretical people. There are just as many divisions within the different genders as there are in the collective group. And that's where it gets a little hazy. The Bible is pretty clear on this point, in some cases--it's very plain that the "loose" woman and the "contentious, brawling" woman of Proverbs aren't women to be emulated. It's equally clear that women like Mary, the mother of Jesus, or Mary Magdalene, or Rachel, are most definitely pretty good role-models.

But what form does this take now, in the twenty-first century? After all, life is so much different now...right? 

Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.

It is very true that modern young women are in lack of a good assortment of role-models in the here and now. We can read about past women who reached the goal of being a 'virtuous woman'--what I think is probably the best Biblical term for the modern conception of 'lady'--but it's more difficult to find women that live up to that in the here and now. Yet they do exist. You can find them in the kind words they give, in the gentle spirit they possess, in the fact that they're the sort of people who you would give up, whose worth in wisdom and love and pure beauty of the soul is far above rubies.

She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms. 

These virtuous women--these ladies--are strong. Not just in the physical sense (because some of them aren't at all; one of the most beautiful ladies I ever met was old and frail), but in the sense that they have a strength that manifests itself as an ability to listen and never get tired, to be the gentle corrector, to offer advice when it seems something is hopeless, to be the one people go to when they don't know where to turn. That sort of strength, it seems to me, is so much more important than being physically strong, or even mentally strong. To be strong in the heart is a great talent indeed.

She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. 

These ladies are generous. They are generous with their strength--with the time they spend listening and helping and crying with and praying for--they are generous with their resources and their hearts and their homes and their minds. Not only that, but they are selfless. They think of others before themselves, of what they can do to help another. This part of being a virtuous woman is, to me, more about the spiritual than the physical. It definitely has a physical side--for instance, very often spiritual ministering includes physical ministering. But there is a need in the spirit, a poorness about some people's hearts that must be tended. A true virtuous woman, one of God's 'ladies', can sense that, and tries her hardest to do something about it.

She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. 

She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant.

A lady is industrious. None of the modern-day virtuous women I've met are idle. They have their moments, of course (I mean, how many of us honestly have not had those days where we just want to curl up with a good book and spend hours immersed in a fantastical world, a very safe cup of hot chocolate nestled against one hand to keep it warm?), but they have a plan, a set idea of what they want and how to get there, and what to do while they're getting there. They work for their families, with their families, for other people, with other people. And that's kind of an amazing thing, when you think about it. Other people are one of the wonders of the world, and this lady is able to not only be with them, but do things for and with them, to create and sell and earn and buy.

 Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. 

A lady is courageous, and respected because of it--mostly because she respects others. This will lead to great rejoicing, for she who lives in peace with all will be loved by all. Something like that. (Try to figure that out if you can; I'm not quite sure what part of my brain produced that, but it sounds cool.)

 She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.

A lady is wise, and kind, and kind in her wisdom. Someone once told me that the most important thing to think about when interacting with other people is "will this help me love this person more?" That is both part of wisdom, and much of kindness. The wisdom to know what to say (and, more importantly, when to say it), and the kindness to temper those words born of wisdom when needed.

Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.

As always, in everything we do, there must be God in it. Every Godly lady I have ever met did not get there by her own effort. She is strong, but not without the Christ, which strengthens us. She is industrious, but not without the creativity given her by the One who created her hands. She is courageous, and gives respect to all, but not without the Holy Spirit to whisper to her words of truth about the people she meets. She is wise, and kind in her wisdom, but the beginning of all wisdom is God, and His word, and she would not know kindness but for the God who gave His all.

She fears the Lord, not in the sense that she trembles because of the punishment he could send, but that she adores and worships and is amazed by the awesome power that is His. She revels in the love and the beauty that is her God, she delights to learn more of him, to hear His words and see His work in her life. Everything she does is an outpouring, not of herself, but of the reflected light of Christ. She is a woman, not because of herself, but because of the One who holds her up with His mighty hand.

thirty reasons for me to be thankful

a God who is way more awesome than I fully realize

a family that loves me far more than I deserve

a warm home

good food

beautiful friends

wonderful talent—or, at least, talent that occasionally errs on the side of beauty

Pringles (no, seriously, they’re epic)

good music that makes me want to dance and cry and laugh and love

beautiful books

being able to get my favorite movie trilogy for forty dollars when it’s supposed to be one hundred (Lord of the Rings, if you’re interested)

good people who are willing to put up with me even when I annoy them

a love beyond all measure and reckoning, that sent the God of the universe to a cross for me

a country where I don’t have to worry about being thrown into jail—at least, not for what my religious beliefs are

pens that fit perfectly into my hand, because they’re hard to find

inspiration

a workplace that doesn’t mind me taking off for months at a time to travel

the ability to learn

baby giggles

stories from old people

beautiful landscapes

motivation

the twenty-first century

being able to climb out of my bed in the morning

occasionally being able to stay in my bed in the morning

generous people

other fans of things I love, that make me feel just a bit more sane than I am

hope

the blood that covers it all

friends on the other side of the world 

all the little things

O give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good: for his mercy endures forever.

- Psalm 107:1

an anthem of difference

What, exactly, is it that happens when one gets saved? Oh yes, we're saved from all sins past, present, and future, Christ becomes the propitiation for us, and through his resurrection we gain new, beautiful, radical life in Him. But more than that...what happens? In that moment, we become different. All at once, old things are passed away, behold, all things are become new.

And shouldn't our lives reflect this difference? This difference, in fact, should be (in my opinion, at least), defined by its most simple root form: holiness. (As Devin pointed out, the Greek word this word derives from is most accurately defined as 'different' or 'separate'.) We most often see this word, of course, applied toward God, someone so beyond our conception of banal existence that we can't even fathom it.

But through Christ, we have become saints, and have become credited with all the righteousness of Christ. In God's eyes, if you are redeemed, there is no difference between you and Christ. You have, to all intents and purposes, been credited with the holiness of Christ.

So how are we supposed to respond to this? How is this supposed to manifest itself?

Well.

I don't really know. But I do know that Peter talked about it quite a bit, in both of his epistles.

But as he which hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation...

what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness...?

Biblically, our 'conversation' is, very simply, our testimony. It is the way other people see us. For we, as Christians, this is vitally important. 2 Corinthians 5:20 tells us we are ambassadors, and 6:3 states that we must give no offence, "that the ministry be not blamed". God may look at the heart, but people most definitely look at the outside, and what they see and hear is integral to how they perceive not just us, but our God.

Take care that your words are gentle, peaceable, kind. I know this can be the hardest thing to master, as we talked about some time ago. More than that, be sure that your actions will give no cause for question fall upon God. All manner of conversation, after all.

Wherefore gird up the loins of your mind, be sober

Be ready. Be serious when it is time to be serious. Conduct yourself as a person of God.

Looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of God

hope to the end for the grace that is to be brought unto you at the revelation of Jesus Christ

And at the end of it, what is it that we're looking forward to? What is it that will help us achieve this holiness? Christ's coming, and Christ, quite simply. Jesus has promised to return for us, his bride. And that gives me quite a bit of hope. How can I help serving him while I am here, and singing to him an anthem of difference with my life?

*references in italics taken from 1 Peter 1:13-16 and 2 Peter 3:11-12

i do this thing

Since I was old enough to learn how words fit together, I have been a writer. My first foray was a rather dour children's book called "Dogs Don't Look Both Ways", which featured a rebellious puppy who runs away because his mother won't let him play outside. He ends up getting run over.

By a cat.

In a truck.

I was a rather disturbing child.

I've written novels, short stories, novellas, even taken a shot at a few nonfiction pieces (and failed utterly, but that's a whole 'nother can of worms). And I love it.

I love making a world, a set of people, come alive. There is something indescribably amazing about being able to turn an empty page into something that lives and breathes through the people it talks about--and while those people aren't real, they're able to navigate life with just as much chaos and uncertainty as I am, while managing to make me believe that it will all come right in the end.

It's a great power, being able to wordcraft. Think about the great books that still survive today. There's a reason some books are revered, because they make us feel things, and give us characters we can all love and look up to and, occasionally, detest a little bit, too. They teach us about the nature of life, of what it means to be human, of what it is to never give up hope, to persevere in the face of tragedy. Sometimes, they show us the opposite; what happens when we give up, when we find it impossible to keep going, when the chaos that threatens really does end up overwhelming us.

But either way, the written word teaches us things. It helps us to understand life in a thing outside of what is properly "real life". And I think that that gift, the power that goes with it, is given by God. And (at the risk of sounding really, really egotistical for a moment), it's a gift I believe I have, and that I think I have a responsibility to use it for good.

But I love it. And that's what makes it worth it, I suppose. Because if you can't love what you do in your down-time, what's the point of down-time?

This is the point where I'd love to hear from all of you. What are some of the things you enjoy doing in your down-time? Do you write? And if so, what? (Tell me, I won't steal your ideas. Maybe. No promises.)

the unintentional consequences of a word harshly spoken

I'm sure we've all experienced it. Someone says something, some little tiny thing. By itself, it's not anything big. In fact, it's hardly a thing at all. They don't think so, anyway. It was a flippant comment, one of those things that probably, in the long run, prove that they think of you as a real friend--not the sort of friend to cry on, of course, but the sort of friend that will understand a sarcastic remark about some aspect of your person. And though they didn't mean it that way, though any anger that might have been present in the comment is quickly gone, it festers.

Not with them, of course. But with you. You rehash that moment over and over in your mind, replaying the comment, remembering how foolish it made you feel, how inadequate, how ridiculous. That tiny comment, so insignificant, becomes the only thing we can think about. It comes to define how we see ourselves, and more than that, the way we think other people see us--even, sometimes, how we think God sees us. Because, after all, if I am such-and-such to so-and-so, how can I not be such-and-such to everyone else?

And, very often without realizing it, we are sometimes on the giving end of this scenario. A single flippant comment, said in jest. A sarcastic comeback. A word spoken amiss. A word spoken in anger. A rant given to a friend that is carried to another friend. And so it is that it is not for nothing that the tongue is called the most dangerous instrument known to men. It can ruin a life with a single word.

Granted, it's not often that a make-or-break comment is made. Sometimes, things are easily brushed off. Sometimes they're not. Nevertheless, given that the words that come out of our mouth can be so destructive, it's very important to watch over them.

The Bible is very clear on this matter. Psalm exhorts us to ask God to ensure that the "words of [our] mouth, and the meditations of [our] heart" be pleasing in God's sight. It later talks about God's praise being "continually" in our mouths. Obviously, our mouth--just like every other bit of us--was designed for the purpose of glorifying the One who made us. But how is that supposed to rule our interactions with our fellow creations?

Ephesians 2:9 warns us to "let no corrupt word proceed" out of our mouths, but instead that which is good for edification--a big Bible word that basically means the learning of other believers. But those little words, those things said in anger...can those things be edifying? I would say not.

Now, I will admit (and freely) that I am as guilty of this as anybody else. I have a temper. A big one. And I'm not always (okay, very often not) successful at keeping it in check. Add to that the fact that I've a way with words, at least sometimes. Sometimes it turns into a less-than-exemplary bit of word-craft, and I end up sitting there afterwards, wondering just why I said that, and why it is that I'm so horrid. So in the end, I suppose it all just comes down to the same basic thing that everything else in life does.

I can't do this without God's help. I can't avoid saying those things. I can't avoid being awful. Not without Him. But the awesome thing is that he does want to help. That he's ready to help. And isn't that amazing?

 Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; Keep watch over the door of my lips. - Psalm 141:3

those people that share our houses

Emma and Sara, 15 and 3

It is, unfortunately, apparently a fact of life that familiarity breeds something very close to contempt. This is true even for those of our blood, it seems; sometimes, when we've all been cooped up together for awhile, my siblings and I begin to jump at each other's throats for what, on a normal day, might seem something completely ridiculous. It seems that as soon as one person goes off, it simply becomes worse, spiraling downwards into a cycle of shouting matches, lost toys, and increasingly bad attitudes.

So what can we, as older and younger sisters, do to stop this cycle?

be kind to one another

I've noticed that in the times that my siblings and I are really at odds, and are reaching the screaming-and-yelling portion of our relationship, it's usually because somebody, somewhere along the way, wasn't kind. It can be something simply thoughtless, like a word spoken in jest, or the accidental locking of a door, or the thoughtless filching of someone's clothing or plaything. But inevitably, one unkind action leads to another, and before long, it seems everything's fallen apart.

Make an effort to be kind over the next few weeks. Think about what you say before you say it. Go out of your way to do something for a sibling. Sometimes, a simple smile or an offered hand to help is all it takes to bring a smile to somebody's face.

Emma, Cora, and Edward--at the time, 14, 12, and 1

tenderhearted

in other words, be compassionate. I'm an older sister to seven little ones, ranging in age from fifteen (okay, maybe not quite that little), to barely two. We've got one more on the way too, and we all live in a very small house. It can be hard sometimes, for me especially, to take the concerns and needs of my siblings seriously. "I don't need that," I think, "why do they?" "I never had that, why should they?" It's a bad habit, but trust me...I know. And I'm working on it.

Be compassionate to the needs and requests of your siblings. Sometimes, we can forget that the younger ones especially need a lot more than we do. Our tendency can be to ignore that in search of our own good. Don't. Be tenderhearted. Think of your words, of how they might be seen on the other end, and take compassion upon your siblings by sometimes simply swallowing those words.

Sara and Edward, 4 and 2

forgiving one another

it can be easy to hold a grudge. It can be easy to go through life, not quite forgiving some past slight--maybe we say we've forgiven it, but we haven't. If unchecked, a lack of forgiveness will hurt relationships beyond repair. We can no longer look at a person without seeing all the little things that we've not quite let go of. Understandably, if you're living in a house with someone, rubbing elbows with them every day, all day, this can get to the point where life becomes a never-ending source of annoyance and anger.

So don't let it get that way. Forgive and forget, as the saying goes--and mean it. Let those things go. If it helps, write them down on slips of paper and throw them away, preferably somewhere where you can't just go get them out. If it helps, drive all the way across town to toss your grievances into a dumpster that will be emptied within five minutes to be taken to a landfill fifty miles away. Because in your house, under your nose day after day, it won't help you and your siblings.

myself (Kyla) and Emma, at ages 4 and 2, or thereabouts

even as God in Christ forgave you.

amidst all of this, let's not forget the most important element in any relationship, the one thing that will decide whether we fail or succeed. Without Christ, nothing can be accomplished. So remember Him. When it feels as if anger will overwhelm you, when you find yourself failing to be compassionate and tenderhearted, when it seems that you just can't let go of something, no matter how hard you try--pray to Him. Seek His face. Persistently run after Him and His will, putting behind you the things that you know to be wrong. And with His help, we will become more than conquerors.

-Ephesians 4:32

everyday adventures

A pebble, tumbling across a concrete path, goes before them, like a tapping herald. But the ones it foretells don't keep to the path for long; the wide field that stretches on either side is far more interesting. And so they go to explore it instead, spreading across in twos or threes.

Some make for the playground that juts from the ground not too far ahead, colored red, white, and blue as if Captain America's outfit had been stretched across it. One or two head for a few trees that cling to life in the rocky soil of the Texas plains. A few more simply find a place of almost-shade and sit down, studying the ants that clamber through the dirt, or trying to scrabble together enough sticks, bits of bark, and plastic detitrus to cobble together a rough hut that, in an imaginary world, is a home to tiny beings that look quite a lot like humans.

In the midst of this rifling through the close mysteries of creation, one discovers a big blue beetle, all shiny shell and knobby legs, queerly crooked and gangly, a glimpse at an alien world in the midst of a human one. There is a momentary shock at the sight of it, as instinct takes over until the one considers for a moment and scoots back a bit, watching as the alien shuffles into its new home. It shuffles right back out again, working its way up the trunk of the tree that the house rests against, but the alien is a good addition to the pretend world built up around the house, and so he becomes the tenant.

Another, one of those who found their way to the playground, has discovered a friend. Together, the two are chasing one another across a metal bridge become a castle's drawbridge, waving sticks that are transformed into swords possessed of magical abilities. But in the next breath, they are hunters in a jungle, chasing after a dread creature that casts terror into every villager within a hundred miles. Another blink, and they are aliens, swaying their way across earth to tear apart a city hastily constructed with a few scuffs of a sneaker in the gravel on the ground.

And in their imagination, all of them are great adventurers.

You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream. - C. S. Lewis

mr. right

I'm pretty sure that, at some point, all little girls dream about something very similar. We all want a perfect wedding, with a special someone waiting at the end of the aisle for us. Many girls (/coughtotallynotmehonestcough) have had their entire wedding, from dress options to reception goodies, planned out since they were old enough to realize mommy and daddy had had a wedding, that this whole wedding thing was desirable, and that boys weren't all that bad. Some girls actually go so far as to cut out the man entirely, and plan a huge bash solely for their own benefit, in the naive hope that they can have a wedding without actually, you know, getting married. Thankfully, that stage ends right about at ten, and never really comes back.

It goes without saying that the future is a question with a lot riding on it. Even more than that is the question of who we're going to spend half of our lives with, and sometimes longer. So, to my mind at least, it's very important that we get this right. There are various ideas as to how exactly we can get it right.

Some girls choose the path of experimentation. They go through a variety of boyfriends, never quite settling down with any one, excusing it with the idea that they're saving up a list of characteristics they want, or just testing to see what they like, or just goofing off while they're young because YOLO, right? More than just spending time with guys and "dating", though, many girls also end up giving themselves in some form to one or more of the guys they date. Be it a few kisses, a few emotional concessions, or a night spent together in secret, they often go farther than they should, and realize too late that it's a mistake, that they shouldn't have ever gotten involved. Some of these girls have had "lines" that they weren't willing to cross.

I've seen so many girls give themselves away to someone who wasn't willing to be there for the rest of his life. He wasn't willing to embark upon a life spent together. Yet time and again, girls continue trusting, giving everything to someone who is undeserving. Is this what God intended for us, his daughters?

I would give an emphatic no in answer. I believe that God said:

...I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. (Jeremiah 29:11, NJKV)

He knows your future, every little side-plot and roadblock, every plot twist and turn, everything that has ever happened or ever will. He knows what you will name your children and, in their turn, he knows everything that will happen to them. He's got it covered, down to every single last, seemingly insignificant detail. He knows who you're going to marry, who will be the perfect fit to round out your service, to perfectly complement your personality and skills and make your future life the best it can be.

So trust him. Don't think you have to "shop around" to find that one perfect guy who will complete you. Don't think you have to do something to find God's best for you. He'll bring it. Wait for your Mr. Right, because I know God's got it covered.

still the same

Well, the past several months have been absolutely amazing for me. There's just something about summer that gets me excited sometimes--and it has nothing to do with the heat or the sudden ability to get soaking wet outside without freezing or enjoying cookouts. It does have a lot to do with the bevy of summer activities I sign myself up for, though. This summer, I've attended Christian Youth In Action (a nine-day training program put on by the Child Evangelism Fellowship), gone to Romania, and then gone on to summer camp with my youth group in Ringold, LA.

CYIA was epic, as always--most of my best friends attend, mostly because that's where I met them--and I learned a lot. They basically teach us how to run a five day club, which is a VBS-type program where we take kids and teach them about Christ and missions and the Bible and the Gospel over the course of a week that is usually pretty crazy. I'm doing another five day club right now and, let me tell you, it's nothing short of an adventure.

Romania was even more of an adventure. As some of you may know, I've taken two other overseas trips, to Zambia and China. Flying all the way across the Atlantic Ocean is, while not yet a commonplace happening, isn't quite so much of a novelty anymore. In other words, it's pretty boring. But then we got to Romania. We helped run a VBS for our missions, Tim and Debra Tyler, in Timisoara. On our peak night, Wednesday, we had over 70 kids. It was a huge blessing.

There's something amazing about going overseas and seeing how similar things are. Yes, we have different languages and different styles of living, sometimes even different cultural values and ways of looking at the world. Yet at a fundamental level, all people are the same. They live, laugh, love, die the same everywhere. Not only that, they pretty much worship God the same way. Oh yes, there are different styles of music, and some cultures (Africa comes to mind) get into it a whole lot more than Westerners usually do, but that doesn't change the simple fact that people are people, that when they really love God, they do it with all their hearts, and one of the purest expressions of that love is lifting praises to the Lord of the universe.

Romania didn't "change my life" per se, but it did refresh some things in my mind and show me a few things I need to change in my own life. So, I suppose it was a success. Pache (peace).

what is my life?

There is a perennial question that circulates on some social media platforms (most notably, in my experience, Tumblr). It usually comes up when someone realizes how utterly mundane their existence is, or starts to think about the fact that it mostly centers around a small metal device that is magically linked to the rest of the world via an unknowable force that most of us don't even want to understand because that would take all the fun out of it.

What is my life?

What am I doing?

What I don't even i can't why what is this asdfjkl;

I'm quite sure that, many years from now, anthropologists will be studying the ancient data records that are left from that archaic, oh-so-quaint institution called the internet, they will discover this trove of introspective questioning and they will come to the conclusion that precisely 90% of the human population during the early 21rst century were not at all sure what their lives were actually about. (The other 10%, of course, are convinced that the answer to this question somehow, inexplicably, lies embedded in the number '42'.)

I think all of us do this at some time or another. We have to ask, maybe with our faces tipped toward heaven, what exactly our lives are for. Why am I here, God? Why am I here, in America, and not somewhere else? Why am I this and not that? Why was I lucky enough to be born into this family? Why was I unlucky enough to be born into this train wreck that outsiders call a family? What is my life about? What is my purpose? What am I supposed to do with this time? What, why, who, when, how?

This is a human trait. The future is one of those nebulous, annoying concepts that we can't ever quite wrap our heads around, kind of like the vastness of the world or the fact that the universe has no edge or that just the idea of God is too big for us to express in proper, easy human words. So we ask questions to compensate for the fact that we don't have any answers, and those questions can easily consume us.

I'm a senior this year. I've officially graduated from high school. My life as a child is, for all intents and purposes, over. In the eyes of the world, I am now an adult, or close enough to it that I've got to act like I am. And I'm surrounded by a world that, let's face it, doesn't make a whit of sense. So faced with all this, these decisions that are being thrown at me, the ideas and concepts I've got to grapple with, the question of my future and what I want to do with my life, I find myself asking, 'what is my life?'

God, what is my purpose?

What am I supposed to do?

Where am I supposed to go?

What

why

who

when

Perhaps, as I said, this is natural. I've never been good with the future, with deciding what I'm supposed to do. I worry too much for it to be easy. What if I don't get funds for this? What if this doesn't happen? What if I don't get to do this? What if, what if.

But the great thing about God is that he's not a what-if God. There are no 'ifs' with him. I highly doubt that he's ever looked down at one of us, his precious creations, and said, "well, I don't know what you're going to do. You're on your own. We'll see how this works. What if you fail? Oh well, stinks for you."

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and go and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart. - Jeremiah 29:11-13 

He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee shall not slumber. - Psalm 121:3 

A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. - Proverbs 16:9 

Thus sayeth the Lord, thy Reedeemer... I am the Lord thy God... which leadeth thee by the way that thou shouldest go. - Isaiah 48:19 

The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and he delights in his way. - Psalm 37:23

Our lives may not make sense to us. In fact, looking ahead, it can be downright frightening. But we've got a God who's bigger than anything else, even than our future. We are the apple of his eye, the beautiful creatures he designed to complement and live within his wonderful creation. He has a plan, and he sits on the throne.

So to answer our original question: what is my life? What am I doing? What am I supposed to do?

I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. - Romans 12:1

Simply put, God is the one who holds power. As his daughters, saved by his grace, we should present our lives to him. After all, he died for us. What a small thing, in comparison.

What is my life?

It his His.

the most important meal of the day

I've always loved breakfast. Since it is the most important meal of the day (per the old-fashioned idiom, but also in scientific fact), I've always considered it as a teensy bit more deserving of my whole-hearted attention than the rest of the meals. That, and I just like sweet food that is still considered good for me by dint of being part of a proper meal. One dish that I especially love, and make at least once a week, are cinnamon rolls. I absolutely adore cinnamon rolls, whether from a tube or from another person's kitchen, or from my own. When I discovered this recipe, I found that it was absolutely wonderful, and I couldn't help but share.

I'd hoped to get some pictures of the steps, but I've been crazy busy and had no time to pull them together so, alas, step-by-step pictures shall have to wait until the next time we post about our favorite recipes. So, without further ado: Sweet cinnamon biscuits.

2 cups sifted flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 tsp salt

1/4 tsp baking soda

1/4 cup vegetable oil

3/4 cup buttermilk

8 tablespoons butter, softened

3/4 cup white sugar

1 tablespoon cinnamon

1 cup milk, optional

I usually eliminate the salt as a matter of course; it can give them a rather sour taste. Also, if you've not got buttermilk in the house, you can add a tablespoon of white vinegar to the cup of regular milk, and let it sit for about ten minutes. It serves the same purpose, and gets the right taste into it.

Also feel free to play with the cinnamon/sugar ratio; it took me quite awhile to get it how I like it.

1. Preheat the oven to 400F and grease a baking sheet or round tin lightly. Combine flour, baking powder, salt, and soda in a medium bowl and mix well. Stir in vegetable oil; use a whisk to make sure most of the lumps are out. It will clump a little, but should crumble easily. Add buttermilk and stir just until blended
2. Knead the dough on a lightly floured surface until smooth--if you knead it a bit longer than strictly necessary, it will make the rolls soft and moist.. Roll dough into a rough rectangle.
3. Spread softened butter over the dough. Combine white sugar and cinnamon in a small bowl and mix well. Sprinkle over butter. Roll up the rectangle, jelly roll fashion, starting from one long side. Pinch seam to seal.
4. Cut the roll in 1-1/2 inch slices. Arrange the slices, cut side up, in prepared baking pan. Bake until lightly browned, about 15 to 20 minutes. Removed from oven. You can pour milk over the top if desired. Serve hot.

Enjoy!

looking at that mountain

I can do all things...

There are some things in life that are, quite simply, just hard. Staring up at them, I think, "God, what is this, and why is it mine to take care of?" And all at once, I start to realize that yeah, it is really huge, and there's no way I can move it, and I get stressed and worried and it's this endless cycle that just keeps getting worse and worse the longer it goes on. This is something I've struggled with a lot in the past, ever falling and trying to get back up again--and failing more often than not.

...through Christ...

But there's something we have to realize. And that's that the huge mountain we're facing can't be budged by us. It's too huge. That feeling of being swamped, of insufficient strength, is very accurate. We, by ourselves, can't do a thing to help ourselves. Yes, Jesus said "faith as a mustard seed" will remove a mountain...but he wasn't saying that we would do it if we just believed in ourselves. He was saying "believe in me; I'll do it. Just believe; I'll take care of the rest."

...which strengthens me.

friends through joys and troubles

What is a true friend? 

This is a question that has often come up in my life. I've seen many friendships, both between me and others and amongst the people around me. It's an interesting flow to watch--the constant shift of personalities and motivations, the way people work with others and sometimes love and leave them. Then there are the few gems of the bunch, the shining exception to the rule of shallow, transitory acquaintanceships. These friendships are more akin to sisterhood than the friends-by-convenience liaisons of others. They are deep. They go beyond what is on the surface. These two people are so like one another that, sometimes, their names become inseparable (Diana and Ann, Huck and Tom, Robin and Little John, Sherlock and Watson), and they're forever seen trailing after one another. Even long after they've grown and moved who-knows-where, these two are still known as The Pair, the two who can never be parted.

So what is a true friend? What comes closer to Christ? There are many verses in the Bible that deal with the issue of friends by naming them. Here are just a few:

 My friends scorn me: but mine eye poureth out tears unto God. - Job 16:20  

 Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. - John 15:13  

...all her friends have dealt treacherously with her, they are become her enemies. - Lamentations 1:2 

A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. - Proverbs 17:17 

In these verses, two ideals are severely contrasted. One, the friend that deals treacherously, that scorns those who are in the midst of hardship. This is the friend that is only in the relationship for his own gain. Sadly, most people approach friendship from that stance. What can I get from this? What will this benefit me? Can I get something good out of this?

Someone once told me that marriage isn't a 50/50 deal. It's a 100/0 deal--on both sides. This same principle can be applied to true friendships. Friends are supposed to be supporters. It's supposed to be the purest form of support. A person laying down her life for her friends, loving no matter the circumstances, sticking through thick and thin just because that person is her friend. We, regardless of what other people are doing, are supposed to give 100% to a relationship. It can be difficult, of course.

But I believe that that is what a true friend is: someone who is willing to give everything to a friendship, regardless of what troubles, roadblocks, or drama may come.

but god, i can't wait

We live in a culture of instant gratification. From 24-hour supermarkets to fast food restaurants to credit cards, our culture knows what it wants, and it wants it now. We get frustrated when we walk into a Walmart and they don't have butter, and if our order tarries longer than five minutes, we get mad and probably launch a few choice insults toward the management and staff of the McDonalds. Wherever we are, whatever we're doing, we don't want to wait.

But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not be faint. - Isaiah 40:31

For thus saith the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel; In returning and rest shall ye be saved; in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength... - Isaiah 30:15

I chose to focus on two verses this week, mostly because I can't ever pick one favorite. But the former has been on my heart a lot lately, and in my quest for something to explain exactly what 'wait' means, I came upon the latter. I think it's a pretty good definition.

I have trouble waiting, with being patient, with sitting back and watching God work. There are times where I'm pretty good at it (and I've gotten better over the years): where I can sit by and let God take the wheel. But then, inevitably, I remember that my deadline is coming up, or I'm going to miss something important. And, like always, I try to wrest control away from God. I try to tell him that I can totally handle it way better than he can and, anyway, I know all the circumstances better than he does, so he should really just step aside before he gets hurt.

Of course, I don't phrase it that way in my head. But that's pretty much what I say.

I'm sure we all have times like that--when it seems our entire world is falling apart around our ears, and the temptation to reach out and take back our lives from God is overwhelming. I can do it, we think, and God'll still be helping me. Yeah, he won't really be driving, but...

God wants us to wait on him. When we're trying to take control from him, when we're stressing about all the little minutiae of our lives, we run out of strength. We get stretched past the point of endurance, until we're suddenly standing in the middle of a wrecked life and think, wait, how'd that happen? When things are at their worst, he wants us to turn and run back to him. He wants us to rest in him, to throw ourselves into his exorbitant, absolutely mad love and just stay. Be quiet. Have confidence.

His strength is enough for both of us.

whatever are you going to do with your life?

I'm a senior in highschool. This brings up a lot of questions about the future, mostly from other people directed to me (not that I don't have questions myself, but I tend to not give them as much thought as other people do to the ones they give me). Top of the list are "So when are you gonna find a guy? *wink*" and "Where are you going to go to college?"

To the first, I usually just laugh and mumble something about waiting on God's timing (actually, I just can't find an old enough guy who'll have me, but I digress). To the second, I usually shock people. My answer isn't exactly the standard one, mostly because I don't jot out a name or even act properly conflicted about my future choices. In fact, by the standards of most people, I'm pretty sure about the whole thing. Except, still, they don't really like my answer.

My answer usually goes along the lines of, "I'm not going to college right off the bat, we'll see what God does, kthxbai." This, naturally, can worry some people, especially those who find it their duty to worry about other people's lives way more than said people do. Invariably, the person I'm talking acts as if I've committed some grievous error and goes out of their way to convince me that I do, in fact, need a college education.

I'm hoping there are some of you out there who can identify with this plight. We get questions, answer them honestly, and then are told (usually with a pat on the back and a little smile) that we're young and so very smart and we should totally go to college so we can get a good job. Even after one gives the most convincing arguments for why college really isn't necessary--the cost, the high unemployment rate among college graduates, the depravity that usually goes on, and the Mrs-degree-oriented Bible school atmosphere--people still carry on, usually by asking "Well then, what are you going to do with your life?"

My answer usually is, "I'm going to be a missionary with a side of political action and a healthy dose of motherhood." And here is where the real kicker comes in. With a look of confusion and an expression of pure woe, they ask, "So you're going to Bible college?"

Nope.

I'm not.

So stop asking.

Okay, so I don't actually say that. But I think it. A lot. So let me just dispel one myth before I stop talking. You don't need a degree to serve God. You don't need to spend $40,000 and four of the best years of your life to serve God. You don't need to get a fancy piece of paper and a bunch of lectures unrelated to your future life to serve God. God doesn't care about those things. When looking for someone to serve him, he doesn't look for what humanity views as the most qualified or the most learned. As the Bible says, he uses the foolish things of the world to confound the wise.

He picks a shepherd boy and a kid from the most dysfunctional family imaginable. He picks a prince-turned-slave. He picked a tax collector. He picked a temple prostitute. He used a murdering Pharisee.

Most of these people didn't have a college degree. Some of them didn't even know how to read. They were simple folk, people who had been radically changed by an Almighty God. That was all they needed, and it's all we need as well. College can be helpful, yes. It can teach you things that are necessary if you want to be a physicist or a doctor. But don't think that just because you want to serve God, you have to go to college. Because that's a lie.

Never Doing School

My childhood is probably the oddest thing you'll ever hear of. Or perhaps not. I'm sure we've all had those days where our mom wakes up and just says, "I don't want to do school today." So you don't.

Now imagine waking up like that every morning.

Let me give you a hint as to how this feels: it's so incredibly awesome, there are hardly words.

I can count on my fingers how many times in my memory that I've actually been made to sit down and do schoolwork. Out of those times, the majority of them were math lessons. Most of the time, we just go through life, learning as we go. Going to a park is an excuse for a science lesson or a social sciences lesson. The library provides our English class. We count things we pass on long drives, we tot up how much we owe in shops as we go through and get what we need.

That is my life, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

It's given me the opportunity to do so many things that other kids don't get to do--important things like have the playground to myself, or having my pick of swings, or being able to linger at museum exhibits without crowds of people shoving me along. It's allowed me to participate in ministry opportunities I would have otherwise missed. For instance, twice a week, I travel to two different schools and help teach Good News Clubs. I stand in front of kids and tell them about Jesus and play games and get free hugs and help future pastors and missionaries on their ways.

Most of these things would never have happened if I'd been locked up in a school room all the time. I love being homeschooled or unschooled, or whatever it is you'd like to call it. And I wouldn't trade all that's happened for the world