Who's Who

When you pass me by

You block out the light;

Shadow dancing on the wall,

Shadow boxing with my gut.

The blow lands:

Pardon me,

I think I've mistaken you for who you're not.

Pause. Rewind. Stop. Eject.

Restoration

Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us... //Hebrews 12:1//


I would like to start by admitting that I just chose that verse because it mentioned races and I want to say something clever about running. And it kind of applies in other ways. Anyway. That's my confession. Now for the clever bit.


As we run the race of life, sometimes our attention drifts and we end up running into a wall. The thing about running a long distance race is that you can't stop once you've started. It is so hard to pick up the pieces of what you were doing and go on when your muscles are aching and your lungs are screaming and everything in you whispers (or shouts), "Stop a moment, rest, you can resume the course later." As any runner who is like me knows, once you've paused for a rest, you'll either not start again or you will take more breaks afterward. 


At some point over the course of this past week, I hit a wall. The combination of sleep deprivation, lack of proper alone time, and absence of the truly familiar began to wear down my reserves and when I sat down to work on my first real paper this evening, it clobbered me. Defeated but resigned to my fate of arduously pegging away at writing this paper, I wandered back in the direction of my room with the intention of cloistering myself until something came from my fingers. But thankfully Krista sprang to the rescue. She recognized that something was wrong and told me to take my car and go someplace where I could be alone with God. Also thankfully, I had a place in mind, so I gratefully took her advice and made a break for it with Bible and journal in hand.


The world is beautiful from the heights of the mountains. Why do we associate majesty with great heights? Whatever the reason may be, the valley at sunset is not a thing to be laughed at. I pulled into a secluded overlook on the border of FDR State Park and howled at God for a half an hour until the sun had sunk into its bed. Not quite ready to return, I laid on the hood of my car and watched as the stars began making their presence known. I don't know if I found peace, but when I returned, I felt a renewed sense of strength to carry on. Maybe that is peace: knowing that in spite of the stress and the burdens that we carry, we will never be unable to soldier on because our strength is not our own. So I took my time getting to the work that I needed to do. I ate a bowl of yogurt and granola, helped critique Julia's paper, drank an amazing Jamocha shake courtesy of Chelsea, laughed when Julia kicked her out, printed off notes for James, chatted with Leah about the lecture and paper topics, started my paper and found myself 100 words short of a good summary. At that point, I ran next door to Meredith asking to see her notes and when she expressed her frustration and writer's block, I took her for a random, delightful run around the campus to clear her mind which didn't work out so well for me because I was wearing jeans without a belt. Oh dear. :) And apparently it just completely distracted her because she ended up doing P90X in the Commons Room, but so? 


Yes, I only have a paragraph and a half of my 750 word, three page paper written. Yes, I am late in getting to bed now. But I feel like my evening was not a waste. If anything, I benefitted immensely from the varied activities because I felt rested in a way that transcends satisfying the demands of exhaustion.


So now that all of that is out of me, I'm going to sleep. Dream sweet!

Reptiles and Revelations

Georgia is not Pennsylvania. That being said, there are some things about Georgia that make it worth my while to be here. Er, let us briefly forget that I am attending an amazing program that has thus far introduced me to the likes of J.P. Moreland and forces me to read books like god is not Great by Christopher Hitchens. Tonight as I was walking to the laundry room I saw something leap across my path. At first I was startled, but then I recalled seeing a toad or two before and wanted to observe this one. I like little creatures. So I crouched down and stayed still, trying to acclimate him a little bit to my presence. He hopped a few times, eyed me, hopped some more. He was a cheeky little creature with a pale underbelly and big black marble eyes. What an odd gentleman! I understand why we attempt to personify the likes of him because I know he was giving me an intelligent, assessing look. Seriously. Anyway, you're probably like "why the heck are you describing this, Christy?" Truthfully? No reason whatsoever. But then I saw this bug crawling toward him, and just as I was delightedly predicting its doom, his little tongue shot out like a lightning bolt and black beetle bug was no more. HA! It was the coolest thing I've seen this week. Maybe more than that. After that, Charles and Grace walked close by talking loudly and startled him into running away, but I felt better about the universe, having sort of communed with nature or something like that.

This has been a week of weariness. I have always assumed myself to hold a significant amount of self-discipline, but that view is swiftly slipping away. It's easy to not go to bed at the right time when bed is right next to you and you can sleep tomorrow night. It's easy to forget about reading that book or writing this assignment when you're told that community is a key element of living here. Spending time with other people, that just comes with the territory, right? Prioritization... Well, I know that tomorrow night I have to write a paper since I didn't write any of it tonight. So that means, what, Friday morning to finish Hitchens?

Last night I finished reading Passion & Purity by Elisabeth Elliot. I shall have to buy it, since the copy I read was from the Commons Room library. Which means, yes, I heartily approved. Her words challenged and convicted me in so many ways. Waiting, prayer, dedication, surrender, self-denial, chastity that transcends the mere physical, hope, longing, love, singleness... It was a good book. Too bad I have so many books that I want to read for my own ends. The Four Loves, Milkweed, Music For Chameleons, Ethan Frome, Small Gods, Crime & Punishment, Orthodoxy... It's a wonder that I've read even 60 pages of god is not Great. But that is as it shall be.

I miss home a bit. The sky. My sisters. The familiarity. The aquarium life of working at Prince Street Cafe. But this is a good place, and I belong here, where I am. It's a beautiful place with some incredible people. We live together, learn together, grow together, will eventually fight and make up. Living poetry as we walk out the calling God has placed in our lives. That is the community I am a part of.

Boats and Birds by Gregory & the Hawk

If you'll be my star, I'll be your sky,
You can hide underneath me and come out at night.
When I turn jet black and you show off your light,
I live to let you shine
I live to let you shine
You can skyrocket away from me
And never come back if you find another galaxy
Far from here with more room to fly
Just leave me your stardust to remember you by...

If you'll be my boat, I'll be your sea
A depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity.
Ebbing and flowing and pushed by a breeze,
I live to make you free
I live to make you free
And you can set sail to the west if you want to
Past the horizon 'til I can't even see you
Far from here where the beaches are wide
Just leave me your wake to remember you by...

Psalm 143

Hear my prayer, O Lord;
   listen to my plea!
   Answer me because you are faithful and
      righteous.
Don't put your servant on trial,
   for no one is innocent before you.
My enemy has chased me.
   He has knocked me to the ground
   and forces me to live in darkness like those
      in the grave.
I am losing all hope;
    I am paralyzed with fear.
I remember the days of old.
   I ponder all your great works
   and think about what you have done.
I lift my hands to you in prayer.
   I thirst for you as parched land thirsts
     for rain.

Come quickly, Lord, and answer me,
   for my depression deepens.
Don't turn away from me,
  or I will die.
Let me hear of your unfailing love each
    morning,
  for I am trusting you.
Show me where to walk,
   for I give myself to you.
Rescue me from my enemies, Lord;
   I run to you to hide me.
Teach me to do your will,
   for you are my God.
May your gracious Spirit lead me forward
   on a firm footing.
For the glory of your name, O Lord, preserve
   my life.
Because of your faithfulness, bring me out
   of this distress.
In your unfailing love, silence all my
   enemies
and destroy all my foes,
for I am your servant.

You Reign Forever

... Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord ...


Sometimes I get really frustrated with God. And then I write something approximating that sentence, look at it, and laugh. Because really, who am I to rush Him? He definitely has a much better perspective of my life situations than I do.

Be that as it may, there are times when I am painfully aware of Him moving in my life, as is the case right now. But not everywhere. There are places that I want Him to be doing something and in my narrow perspective, I don't think He is. And then I caterwaul about it to Him, and He laughs gently and reminds me that really, it's okay, He's got it under control. I just need to wait on His timing and hold on to hope.

------------------------

When I stopped by Lyndsay's desk this afternoon to take care of some community group business, Basie came downstairs to get his mail and in his stack was a magazine called Salvo. He recommended it to me, and, curious, I asked if I could have it right then. I have since devoured this issue and I heartily recommend it for anyone who cares about sex, science, or society, a potent mix of sibilance if you will. It is a firmly conservative magazine, but staunchly defends its stance with some intriguing evidence. In between articles that touched on global warming and an epidemic of liberal indoctrination in institutions of higher learning were a few ads that ran in the spirit of political cartoons. I include one for your edification and delight.

Super Big Brothers

Holy Sonnet 14 by John Donne

Batter my heart, three person'd God; for you

As yet but knock; but breathe, shine, and seek to mend;

That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend

Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

I like an usurped town to another due,

Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.

Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,

But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.

Yet dearly I love you and would be loved fain,

But am betroth'd unto your enemy;

Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,

Take me to you, imprison, for I,

Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,

Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

Revelation 22

On the afternoon of April the 8th, a friend and co-worker, Micah Berthold, died from injuries sustained in a car accident. That morning, I finished writing my final exegetical paper of my high school experience on Revelation 22. Our talk last night recalled it to my mind and I want to share it here, as well as the brief note I included when I emailed my paper to Mr. Cote.

The email:

Of all the chapters in the world to have written my final exegetical paper on, this was it. When you read it, you will note that it was obviously written before I heard news of Micah's death. When I finished the paper yesterday morning, I never dreamed that it would so immediately come back to me as a comfort. I guess I'm trying to say thank you for this assignment because no matter how much it hurts, I am reminded that I have that hope. Life is messed up, but it won't always be that way. And as wrong as it all seems and as weak a comfort as it is right now, he is in a better place.

The paper (it is written in a certain form, so I apologize if it is a little awkward): 

Revelation is one of the major sources of apocalyptic literature in the Bible, and with that designation comes stunningly beautiful imagery. It was composed by John as a written account of his visions while on the island of Patmos concerning the days to come, and it is addressed to “the seven churches … in Asia” according to Revelation 1:4, although seven does not necessarily denote specific churches so much as all churches because seven is a number used to imply completion in Revelations1. Revelation 22 is the final chapter of John’s saga, bringing the persecution to an end in the triumphant return of Jesus, who has come to establish his reign on earth. In John’s description of his revelation, there are distinct allusions to Genesis 1-3 as God’s original intent for His creation is realized. Revelation 22 begins with that description, then John touches on his encounter with the angel, and finally, he records God’s words to the people concerning their choice, ending with a blessing of grace.

      In verse one, John says that God showed him a single “river of life”  which refers back to Genesis 2:10 where it says that “a river flowed out of Eden to water the garden.” In Eden, the river gave life to the plants growing therein, while its Revelation 22:1 parallel flows not from the center of Eden but from the throne of God. The life of this water is not in its components which facilitate photosynthesis, nor is it merely from an earthly well. Instead it provides soul life directly from God in a way not seen since Adam walked with Him, unashamed of his nakedness. John goes on to describe the collectively singular trees of life which grow around the river, producing an abundance of fruit in all seasons because the death which previously necessitated the cycle of growth and harvest no longer prevails in a world wholly alive. Noteworthy is the fact that the tree of the knowledge of good and evil is no longer a part of the picture; its function no longer exists and the results of consuming its fruit have passed away with the redeeming act of Jesus’s death. This absence is explained in verse three, where John states that “there will no longer be any curse,” bringing the cycle of redemption to completion. Whatever the parallels to Genesis’s creation account are, the new earth appears to be an improvement in one respect: verse five says that there will be no need for light “because the Lord God will illumine [the people].” Paradise, then, will not be an exact replica of the Eden abandoned in the Fall. Instead, John points to a fulfillment of Eden occurring in typical Biblical fashion whereby it is “filled fuller” than before.

      After describing the earth to come, John states the exact nature of his commission as it was given to him by the angel. The angel’s purpose was to provide an account of the things soon to come to the Lord’s bondservants on earth2. John identifies himself as the bondservant who is instrumental to spreading the prophetic word on earth in verse eight. When John heard these words, he says that he “fell down to worship at the feet of the angel.” John was simultaneously awed and humbled in the face of this experience, but the angel tells him to worship God rather than a fellow servant. This redirection of John’s praise serves a purpose; the angel does not want John’s revelation to be on his authority. Instead, the entire prophecy is on God’s authority, so He is the one to be praised3. John is then given a specific command in verse ten to keep his prophecy “unsealed,” meaning that he is to spread it abroad in contrast to the earlier apocalyptic literature of Daniel which was meant to be sealed “until the end of time”4. The reason for this command lies in the same verse: “the time is near.”

      The final words are a progression in thought. John has just established that the end is near, so he expresses a final call to redemption. In light of this purpose, verse eleven seems to be a contradiction. John tells the wrong to continue in their wrongdoing and the filthy to maintain their filthiness. However, his words refer to the dynamic nature of spiritual life. There can be no stasis, always a person is moving forward or he is moving backward5. That the filthy would be better off casting off their filth is highlighted in verse fourteen, where the angel adds the beatitude, “Blessed are those who wash their robes.” Therefore, verse eleven serves more as a means of contrast than a declaration that the filthy ought to remain so. Verse sixteen provides an ownership of John’s words by Jesus, reaffirming his authority as the ultimate foundation for John’s revelation. And in verse seventeen, the Holy Spirit and the bride of Christ offer a final invitation into Paradise to all who are thirsty. John concludes with some admonishments to preserve unchanged the words of his revelation and calls a blessing on all.

      The main point of this passage is to give hope amidst present darkness with the description of abundant life soon to come. Although John tells of terrible famine, sickness, pestilence, and violence, he points to a time beyond the momentary pain that will stretch into eternity, far exceeding that brief period. If the Christians of the seven churches can but lift their eyes beyond that to the new earth to come, they will have the hope they need to carry on.

      Perhaps those early Christians also struggled with a mindset too often embroiled in the trials of the present. The Thessalonians were warned by Paul not to let themselves slack off, but to constantly be on the alert, so it is not a giant leap in thinking. Yesterday, I received the news that a co-worker and all-around wonderful guy was in a terrible accident that has him attached to innumerable tubes and machines fighting to keep him alive. Multiple broken bones, a collapsed lung, brain swelling and inadequate oxygen flow… The picture is pretty hopeless. Right now I am struggling to hold on to hope that he will be okay and it is hard for me to believe that God will be able to work through this somehow. But this passage in Revelation, combined with something that the April 8th chapel speaker Conroy Lewis said, reminds me to look past the difficulties and the pain of the present. Micah’s situation may be awful, but I can still pray for his healing. And to be honest, he is one of few people my age that I think could actually come out stronger. He will need every ounce of strength that God can give him, but as Mr. Cote recently said at Headmaster’s Round Table, God gives specific anointing to people in specific situations. And failing all else, Micah is a Christian. Life hurts in so many ways, but the promise of the future is the hope of Jesus Christ. To despair is to deny him again.

Sinking Into Grace

 We are His portion and He is our prize

Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes

If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking

//from How He Loves by John Mark McMillan//

Today is a beautiful day. The clouds overhead are threatening rain, and when the rain falls, it is as if God's grace is in every drop.

Last night at our Tuesday Bible study known also as 737 we were talking about Genesis 1-3 and Revelation 21-22. Creation and ultimate Redemption. Somehow in the course of talking about those chapters, David (one of our Student Living and Learning Coordinators) said something very simple and profound. "God likes you." And I know your first thought is probably, "Yeah, Christy, I know. It's not exactly old news." But think about it. We all know that God loves us. Your mother probably told you that as she tucked you in at night when you were three. But do you really believe that God likes you? Because suddenly that changes things. Where once you feared to approach Him, suddenly that fear falls away. Because He likes you. He made you, and yes, you are flawed, and yes, you have a lot of scars, guilt, a burden that you ache under, but He likes you.

Today I learned a bit about grace. For years I have struggled with something that has torn away at my spirit, and while I have shared it before with some people, I have never been able to escape it. But I knew even as I was filling out the application and writing my admissions essays for IMPACT 360 that if I didn't deal with it then, I would end up dealing with it here.  So I came prepared to be vulnerable, to be raw and open, afraid but suffocating. 

Have you ever hidden in a closet while playing hide and seek? Your impatience grows as you await the hollers that accompany the seeker finding one of your playmates, gradually growing sweaty and uncomfortable, fighting off a sneeze as the dust of a well-packed closet creeps into your nostrils until you want so badly to be found. And you wait. Seconds feel like minutes. And you wait. Until at last you hear tentative footsteps, the creak of the door opening, the light pouring in as it is carried on a breath of the sweetest, freshest air you could imagine.

I have played hide and seek for a long time. But by God's grace, I have been found and the air outside is sweeter than honey, the rain that falls a kiss. Because He loves me. And because He likes me. 

I lie awake thinking of you, meditating on you through the night. Because you are my helper, I sing for joy in the shadow of your wings. I cling to you; your strong right hand holds me securely. //Psalm 63:6-8//

Have mercy on me, O God, because of your unfailing love. Because of your great compassion, blot out the stain of my sins. Wash me clean from my guilt. Purify me from my sin. For I recognize my rebellion; it haunts me day and night. Against you, and you alone, have I sinned; I have done what is evil in your sight... Purify me from my sins, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. Oh, give me back my joy again; you have broken me-- now let me rejoice. //Psalm 51:1-4a, 7-8//

If we claim we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and not living in the truth. But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness. //1 John 1:8-9//

Counting down...

Sometimes those final minutes take forever to tick by. That was most of my summer. But occasionally time just hurls you forward like a catapult, painfully abrupt in the take off and the landing. That is my week.

Amidst the busyness of saying good-bye to friends and family, of trying not to go insane as I deal with those men in dark suits with the power to financially sink or swim my plans, of packing away the final pieces of this life that I will be carrying with me, a single line from an old song has been my crutch. When we were young, Mother would always sing, "The joy of the Lord is my strength." We would even sort of musically laugh the whole way through the song, I guess as evidence of the Lord's joy in us :) It was fun to sing when I was little, but it's truth never really popped out to me so much as now. Who knew there was so much to do in preparation for departure? But that line reminds me of two things.

First, my strength is not of myself. I can only get me so far before I falter. But in my weakness, God is glorified. The other day I was thinking about how little I credit God for, a thought that returned when I was talking with Grandma this morning. She has such gratitude to and dependence on Him and affirms it often. I was humbled to realize how little glory I give to God, when He acts so powerfully in my life. But He doesn't stop because of my blindness, or Debbie and Crystal definitely wouldn't have shown up at exactly the right time to save the day :) (Thank you both so much! I can't even tell you how much it meant to me just to be able to let everything out right then.) It's not that He's not acting. It's that I'm not looking.

Second, "the joy of the Lord." Dratted joyfulness. But worse still is crankiness! Honestly, if I rely simply on my physical state of being as the barometer for my mood, the rest of my week is going to just tank. I don't foresee much sleep between now and 6:30AM on Sunday morning. But joy is not dependent on physical circumstances. Otherwise, Paul could never have written his letter to the Philippians, or, at the very least, it would have been greatly modified.

Anyway, if I didn't/don't get to say good-bye to any of you, I really am sorry! I love you all and will miss you. But hey, with so many avenues of technology, you have no excuse not to stay in touch! So email me, call me, write to me. I'm on Facebook, and there are about 17 different ways to talk to someone on Facebook. And of course, I will be updating this blog throughout the year (no promises about the frequency), so you can always leave comments here. :)