Do you know what LavaLife is?

Well, neither did I, until yesterday. Sheri (my boss) and I were working on reconciling all the statements for the department's credit cards for the past month, and there was a charge on it that we had no record of ever making. It was from a place called LavaLife, and so I googled it, and it confirmed our suspicions that it's definitely not a purchase anyone here in the gym would have made. (At least I hope not...because it turns out it's an online DATING SERVICE!!!!) We laughed and laughed and laughed, until several people (including Bill Swanson and Matt Webb) jokingly 'fessed up, which made us laugh more because everyone in the Athletic Department is married except myself and 2 other women! (And, no, we're not that desperate. If I ever use a "meet other singles" service of any kind, you have every right to drag me out into the street and shoot me!) So someone's personal life is more exciting now, thanks to Houghton College. Of all things to steal someone's credit card number for...

Today is a good day

Why?

1. Jesus Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed!!!!!!!!!
2. The sun is shining, it is warm, and the daffodils are blooming in my front yard
3. Rachel called this morning! From Japan!!!! What a wonderful way to start the day. :)
4. I am drinking coffee right now...ah, how I have missed it...
5. Our Easter cantata went off without a hitch yesterday, and there were 8 people who responded to the altar call after Pastor Jon's message, one of whom has already expressed interest in baptism! (She has apparently been seeking out who Christ is for several months now, and has finally decided it's time to jump in and start following in His footsteps.)
6. I spent all day yesterday with a group of wonderful people from my church, including a missionary family on furlough from RVA, and many very cute children with whom I jumped for hours on the trampoline (my legs still feel like Jell-O...) and went on an Easter egg hunt and roasted Peeps over a bonfire.
7. Pastor Jon gets points for culinary creativity this weekend - he decided to try something new with the ham for Easter dinner this year, and so he deep-fried it. The whole pork shoulder, so there was sort of a crust that formed on the outside, and the ham on the inside came out really tender, and actually really good! (But far too much work, he said...) Somehow, I just find a deep-fried ham really amusing, in a bizarre sort of way.
7. Did I mention that the sun is shining?


P.S. - Did you know that, in 1953, it took 27 hours to create one Marshmallow Peep, but today, it takes six minutes? Well, now you know. :)

On this Thursday of bread and wine, of towel and water...

Prepare the way of the Lord, the prophets cried. But even they can’t have been fully prepared for a Saviour who washed the feet of those who would follow in his footsteps, or a God whose star-flinging hands were splintered on a wooden cross.

Bread of heaven – it sticks in the throat. An immeasurable, unquantifiable Creator willingly brought down to Earth like manna and reduced to the status of a metaphor; something to be shared, broken, eaten.

And, in the same way, his very essence distilled into a full-bodied cup of wine, albeit wine for a wedding, the best vintage, saved to the last and drunk at the death.

Take, eat. This is my body.

Take, drink. This is my blood.

Feed on me. And I will turn your world upside down and inside out. Not in the way a genie out of a bottle might do it. Not in the way the rulers of this world do it. Not in the way you may expect.

As Paul wrote to the Corinthians, ‘human strength can’t begin to compete with God’s “weakness”.’ Simple. Foolish. Ungodly?

What a way to go.

~Brian Draper, London Institute for Contemporary Christianity

Just thinking of the bread and wine of which we will partake tonight makes everything catch in my throat. Just thinking of my Lord wrapping a towel around His waist to wash the feet of those who would fall asleep as He prayed, who would deny they knew Him, who would betray His trust, I weep, because I know that that is me. That I would be like Peter and say, "Lord, it is I who should be washing Your feet - please, let me take the towel. I am filthy, inside and out. You are the Messiah, the Son of God! It is I who should be on the floor at Your feet." And yet He gently insisted, "This is the full extent of my love. This is how my Kingdom works - you must let me do this for you, let me become your servant, your sustenance, your life." How humble Your love, O God!

A weekend to rest

After a wonderful, phenomenal visit with Uncle Mike and Jeremy on Friday (during which there was muchexchanging of news, reminiscing, laughter, and of course the good 0l' Brazilian hug-and-kiss-on-the-cheek combo), I was ambushed by Katrina and Paul, who were headed off to Paul's house in PA for break. Their mission: to convince me to go with them for the weekend. My "I really shouldn't go" excuse (besides having to pay for gas...): the girls in my youth group would absolutely KILL me if I didn't come to see them perform in Beauty and the Beast on Friday night, after Kat & Paul were leaving. I couldn't miss the play, but I didn't want to have to drive down by myself late at night, paying for all of the gas. But with the promise of a hot tub, home-cooked food, and acres of trees to climb, with a comfortable bed to sleep in at the end of the day, it didn't take them very long to change my mind! I know, I'm a pushover when it comes to hot tubs and food and someone to split gas with...Throw in a little music and some books, and I'm REALLY a pushover! :)

So I went to Beauty and the Beast (which was really well done - the costumes, the sets, the music - probably the best high school drama production I've seen in a long time), and then proceeded to make the drive to Rockton, with Paul Christensen to split the cost of gas and keep me awake. Pulling in at midnight, exhausted and sore, the perfect end to the night was a soak in the Shaffners' hot tub! Wonderful...followed by Saturday, a day of firsts for me: my first time shooting a gun (Paul's own .357 Magnum revolver...it was awesome!!!! Even though I have terrible aim...), my first time buying an article of clothing from Goodwill without trying it on, first time going off-roading through mud and over rocks & logs (in the Shaffners' sweet Jeep, with Paul driving and Kat & I hanging out the back), and my first time seeing a Civil War mortar cannon being fired! Among many, many other incredible things...like apple pancakes for breakfast, and an amazing roast for dinner...like a trip to the library, where they were having a book sale where Kat & I bought 12 books for 90 cents...like the freedom to climb a tree or curl up with a book or take a nap in the middle of the afternoon or do whatever I felt like doing...like talking about The Screwtape Letters in Mr. Shaffner's Sunday school class...In short, it was wonderful. Pictures to come soon! :)

I think my favourite part about this weekend, though, was being blown away by how, with my own parents so far away that I can't run to them when I need a safe place, God has graciously provided me with surrogate families when I need them. Like Uncle Mike, who listened to my rambling because he cares, who offered hugs and prayers and encouragement. Like the Shaffners, who not only opened up their home for a weekend of rest, but also offered me their spare bedroom upstairs if I ever need a place to live or even just to crash for a little while. I left their house at 5:30 Monday morning with tears of gratitude in my eyes, for their generosity, their kindness, their open hearts, wise words, and the love of Christ that they poured out on me this weekend. I didn't realize until after I left how much I had needed that! Thank You, God, for Your body. And thank you, Paul & Kat, for sharing your family with me.

When worlds collide

Wow. Jeremy Davis just walked by the door to my office on his wandering tour of the gym, and I jumped up, threw open my office door, and gave him one of the biggest hugs ever! You see, I've never seen him in this country before. And now he's in HOUGHTON!!!! I've known him ever since he was born, in Brazil, into one of the most amazing families in my mission, just 10 months after my brother Ben was born. And now he's visiting colleges!!!! Unbelievable. He's one of my little brother Ben's best friends (one of the "Three Stooges," as I affectionately call Ben, Jer, and Caleb, who have been practically inseparable since birth), and a REALLY quality 15-year-old guy. Jer, you're awesome!

And since he can't drive yet, that also means that his dad, Uncle Mike, is here on campus, with not that much to do while Jeremy's doing his stuff. So I get to see, and talk to, and laugh with, one of my favourite "uncles!" He can play virtually every musical instrument known to humanity, and if he's never seen it or played it before, just give him a couple minutes with it and he'll be a pro. And he's a great preacher - although, come to think of it, I've never heard him preach in English before... :) I can't wait to hear how he's doing, how the whole Davis family is doing, to catch up on news and life from back home. And to get an Uncle Mike hug. Oh, how I miss his belly laugh!

I'm so excited, I can't stop grinning! Wow. God is so amazing.

Remember that dream?

The one in which I dreamed that it snowed?

Well, it came true. I woke up this morning to snow. And it's falling from the sky again. What happened to spring?

Life doesn't have to be exciting to be good

A few weeks ago in youth group, we talked about whether or not we can know what we really need, or whether our wants and our needs are so entangled that we don't know which is which, and we have no way of knowing what is ultimately best for ourselves, but only God does. As part of the exercise, we took a sort of genie-in-the-lamp quiz. Pastor Don made a list of about 20 things, and then we had each person take 5 minutes to read over and think about the list, then circle the 3 things they would ask God to do for them that they thought would make them truly happy. The options ranged from "having a car" to "if people liked/respected me" and "if my parents/family would just stop fighting all the time." And you know what the most popular option was? "Moving away from Cuba!" [edit: for those of you who, like Tegan, are confused, this is Cuba, NY we're talking about... ;)] It is truly amazing how many of them thought they would find happiness if they could just get out of their rinky-dink old town to a more exciting place! Like New York, or Hawaii, or Hollywood. Or, in some cases, Olean...("Anything is better than Cuba," says Amanda.) "But what makes you think that you'll be happy in New York, Stacy?" "Well, there's so much more to do there, more people...I dunno, it's just more exciting." "OK, I'll give you that...but do you need excitement in order to be happy? What happens when New York gets boring? When you've seen all the sights, shopped in all the stores, gotten tired of the pollution and the traffic jams?" They didn't really know what to do with that. And frankly, sometimes I don't either. But if what I want is always something more than I have now, something different, then I'll be waiting around forever for happiness to fall into my lap, for the perfect conditions, for the next exciting thing because what I have now just isn't as good as I think it could be.

I'm not trying to say that excitement is a bad thing. Sometimes we do need to get away. Sometimes a change of scenery, a change of pace, gives us a kick in the pants, and sometimes that's what we need. But if we continually "need" those kicks in the butt, shouldn't that indicate to us that something is wrong? Do we really need exciting vacations in an exotic tropical paradise to "rekindle" marriages? How about bringing love into everyday life instead of escaping to find it, as though everyday life is somehow bent on destroying romance? And why do we do the same thing with our faith, as though the only time when our relationship with God can really thrive is when we are on a spiritual retreat, or in our spiritual alone time delving into Scripture? I love my daily quiet times, set apart for prayer and reading and worship, but I have found recently that perhaps I idolize them too much. Because if I somehow see those as my only moments of prayer and worship throughout the day, and spend my whole day counting down to those hours, then I have missed all the other hours in which I could have been praying and worshiping as I worked, as I ate lunch, as I answered the phone...Why does the word "routine" always seem to have negative connotations, meaning dreary monotony and drudgery? As though somehow it's a bad thing to allow oneself to "slip into" a routine? Granted, if the pattern becomes thoughtless, stuck in a rut, following a routine simply because that's what you do and have always done, then that quickly becomes complacency, and I flee from that as fast as I can! But if I constantly need to change things in order to avoid the rut, if I need boosts of excitement to keep me interested in anything, if I look forward for my fulfillment, will I ever learn how to be content right here where I am? To pray in the circumstances I've been given? To love the people who are around me instead of looking for more exciting or more respectful or more intellectual people to befriend?

There is something strangely fulfilling about routine. Something extremely good about small, mundane tasks, like vacuuming up dead ladybugs from our living room carpet, or kneading bread dough, or stuffing hundreds of envelopes with support request letters. There is something deeply stabilizing about becoming familiar with Scriptures, with the prayers of the church, to the point where they become ingrained in my very being. I love rolling out of bed and watching the sun rise, starting the day by breathing a prayer of thanksgiving, "Thank You, Lord for this day that you have made! It is good, because You have declared that it is good, and I will rejoice and be glad in it." And I don't have to move somewhere exciting or have a different job to rejoice - there are no conditions. Oh, that someday prayer, communion with God, will be a habit for me! One that will not be easily broken! That prayer would be as natural to me sitting here at my desk at work as it would be in my "prayer closet" or in a church service or laughing over how stupid I look trying to keep up with Cari in DDR. I so desperately want Amanda and Stacy and Cari and Lindsay and Jenn and LeighAnn and Jessica and Crystal to seek the fulfillment they crave in the place where they will find it - in Christ - and not in the constant quest for the next best thing. He IS the best thing - the greatest taste, the richest of fare, the Living Water, the Bread of Life! I want God to bring significance to their everyday lives, not just the times when they feel spiritually excited about Him.

I had a terrible, horrible dream last night

You see, it was one of those dreams in which you dream about waking up and getting ready for the day and doing everything you would usually do after really waking up. Except this time, when I opemed the curtains in my kitchen to let the sunshine in while I ate breakfast, I looked out onto a yard covered in SNOW! A whole foot of it, freshly fallen that night, with freezing winds and everything. Needless to say, I panicked, because in real life, for the past few days we have finally been having the most GORGEOUS spring weather here in Houghton - sunshine, warmth, blue skies, the whole deal. But with it still being March, there is still that teeny-tiny voice that says, "Don't count your chickens before they're hatched - winter may come back again..." My dream came from that voice. And when I opened the curtains to see another beautiful sunshiny day, with no snow, I defiantly mentally squashed the source of that evil little voice, and proceeded to wear sandals to work as a step of faith in the permanence of spring! Please stay, beautiful spring weather!

Things that make me smile...

• The sun shining outside!
• The uber-cold, tasty water I'm drinking right now (How is water tasty? Well, it's quite simple, really. It doesn't taste like minerals, or iron, or sulfur, or pipes, or refrigerator - just like water!)
• Music
• Backrubs
  
• Books (especially those which are read for fun!)
  
• Earl Grey tea with milk and raw sugar
  
• Being tickled by the whiskers of a hamster named Shelby
• Sharing my house with Amy and Katrina (and Paul, too)
• Gilmore Girls marathons
• Extra-super-duper-dark chocolate
• God's unfailing love
  
• This... :)Together again, at last! Never to say goodbye again!
• You, and the fact that you are here, reading this blog :)
  

Juror #16

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Becca, who was learning how to make it in the adult world. With her own car, her own job, her own house to pay rent on, her own bills, there was only one thing missing in order for her to be considered a full grown-up: jury duty. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I have now joined the ranks of those responsible (*cough*) adult citizens of this country who have been called upon for this duty and privilege. Today I sat in the Allegany County Courthouse all morning with 49 other lucky people, watching a video on the importance of the jury in the American judicial system, being introduced to the case and all of the procedures of the court, and keeping our fingers crossed that our number wouldn't be drawn!


I was number 16, and there were a few times my breath caught in my throat as the county clerk pulled out a number from the bin and started reading, "Sixt.." (oh, crap, could I really handle sitting on a jury for as long as it takes?) "Sixty-five." Phew! Then again, "Sixt..."(Do I really think that I'm qualified to determine what justice is?) "Sixty-eight." Thank You, Lord! So number 16 was never called, and I will not have to report for jury duty again for another 6 years at least. Part of me was almost disappointed, because it would have been really interesting to experience an actual, real criminal trial (it was for grand larceny and possession of stolen property), as opposed to only the dramatized TV-versions. But part of me was also glad that I can go back to my normal life. Welcome to real life, Becca!

How can you not like maple syrup?

Yesterday, a bunch of us from the Athletic Department went out to the Maple Tree Inn for lunch. Mmm...all-you-can-eat buchwheat pancakes, with their own homemade maple syrup, and locally raised & cured sausage...But in the midst of this scrumptious feasting, Sandy decided to order a hamburger for her lunch. WHAT? Go to the Maple Tree Inn and eat a HAMBURGER? When I asked her why, if it was just because she wasn't in the mood for pancakes, she replied, "No, I just don't like maple syrup." WHAT? I don't get it.

Hoarse, but worth it...

This was probably the most jam-packed weekend of the semester so far! But also one of the best. On Friday, I left early from work to go with 15 of our youth to the our annual Youth Advance, at a ranch outside of Erie, PA. There were only 3 girls, but that made our interactions that much more fun, intense, and bonding, and created space for vulnerability that wouldn't have been there in a larger group. We went on a horseback trail ride, made it through their team-building low ropes course, shot archery, and learned how to throw tomahawks (!!!!!) - when I finally managed to embed one of them in the log target, I just about burst my buttons. I felt like Sully, on Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman! Well, except I don't think I have his deadly accuracy... :) But besides having fun, we also did a lot of talking, sharing, and learning, under our theme of "What on earth am I here for?" You should have seen how some of them responded! How is it that You are loved with an everlasting Love, and you were made to love and be loved can be so new and incredible and simple and revolutionary, and yet also so hard to live out? You'd think that, for some of them, it was the first time they had really heard that they were worth something - worth so much, in fact, that the perfect Son of God would die the most humiliating death in the world for them. And it was amazing to see how they started acting differently towards each other when they started realizing that, the same things that made them valuable, also made everyone else in the room valuable! The insults and teasing decreased, there was more generosity, more grace, more kindness...I hope it doesn't just stay at the ranch, but that we'll continue to see it manifest at youth group tonight!

So, thoroughly exhausted after that (although very content), I went to a 2-hour rehearsal for our Easter musical, then straight from there to the Casting Crowns/Nichole Nordeman/Josh Bates concert at St. Bonaventure's with Laura & Walter. WOW!!!! But it was all worth it. The concert was phenomenal, and all my exhaustion evaporated in the excitement of being in a packed-out gym on a (mostly) secular campus singing praises to the Almighty God, Maker and Sustainer of all things! It was so great that one of the first people on stage was one of the friars from their friary, welcoming everyone there in his brown robe, standing right next to the drumset and electric guitar. :)

Katrina and I always tease each other that all the music the other one likes sounds the same...for me, even though I like all sorts of music, there is one genre that I really love, which basically consists of a guy and his guitar. Hence, if you go through my music collection, you will find a very large selection of such music...(Jack Johnson, John Mayer, Chris Rice, Shane & Shane, Bebo Norman, to name a few)...which is why it made me so happy when for the opening act, Josh Bates walked onto the stage with an acoustic guitar and stood at the center stage mic, by himself, with his guitar. There he was, all curly-haired and 23 years old and singing songs that he had composed himself about life and God, and then when he pulled out his mandolin and started playing these ridiculous licks, I think I would've started drooling right then and there if the 6-year-old kid sitting behind me hadn't accidentally kicked me in the back...So I now join the ranks of those-who-have-small-crushes-on-people, along with Rachel Schumacher and Dave Steele...except I'm slightly more pathetic, 'cause I never actually MET Josh Bates. But he DOES know I exist!

You see, at intermission of the Casting Crowns part of the concert, Mark Hall (the lead singer) asked all the people who work in youth ministry to come to a room backstage to get some materials that they put out, and also to invite us to participate in the concert as prayer team/altar counselors. So I got a bag with response cards and pencils and stood in my aisle and gave the cards to people to fill out as they responded to the speaker, and prayed with them. But before this time came, the concert was still going on, but my friend Hilary and I couldn't get back to our seats, so we just hung out in the empty balcony right next to where we had met with Mark Hall, and watched the rest of the concert from there. We were right next to the stage, and so we got a great view of all the stuff going on behind the scenes, from all the people at the sound and video boards to the artists getting ready to go back onstage. (At one point, I was standing right next to the railing and Nichole Nordeman was 15 feet below me on the floor directly under us!) Well, at one point during the second half of the concert Josh Bates strapped on his mandolin and joined the band onstage for a few songs, and at this point in time Hil and I are singing along, with nobody else within about 50 feet of us, and when Josh turned towards us we waved, and he smiled. And for the whole rest of the time he was up there, he kept turning towards us and playing and singing at us. And only us. So, for at least 10 minutes, he knew I existed. And I'm pathetic, I know. Laugh at me! I laugh at myself! But, come on, you've got to admit that it's fun to entertain, even for a day, the thought of dating someone who is on a music tour across the country, to be able to pop in a CD and say, "Oh, by the way, this amazing music we're listening to? Yeah, I'm dating him..." *insert silly, impish grin here*

OK, OK, so all Jr. High-ness aside, even without Josh Bates, the weekend and the concert were phenomenal, smashing, and unforgettable! No words or pictures do it justice.

Time for a change of scenery...

I know! *gasp* It isn't GREEN? Ah, you thought that everything I owned was green, didn't you? Well, you are almost right. Except I decided to change things up...at least for a little while...maybe I'll start missing green so much I'll bring it back. Or maybe I'll fall in love with another colour and expand my colour palette, much to the delight of many of you. :)

An update on my weekend is coming soon...

St. Patrick's Day trivia...

Did you know that, this year, the Catholic Church officially made an exception to its Lenten Friday meat ban for St. Patrick's Day? Yep, that's right. Apparently, corned beef and other meaty delicacies are too important on this day to give up. That would be like asking them to give up beer for today! Absolutely inconceivable! So I guess Friday fish fry might be moved to Saturday this week... :)

I have never known the meaning of hunger. Or thirst. I wish there were some way to transport the abundant water from the spring in my backyard to these 3.7 million people who have none. If only it were that simple...

Send some rain, would You send some rain?
'Cause the earth is dry and needs to drink again
And the sun is high and we are sinking in the shade
Would You send a cloud, thunder long and loud?
Let the sky grow black and send some mercy down
Surely You can see that we are thirsty and afraid
But maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case...

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude
For lessons learned in how to thirst for You
How to bless the very sun that warms our face
If You never send us rain

Daily bread, give us daily bread
Bless our bodies, keep our children fed
Fill our cups, then fill them up again tonight
Wrap us up
And warm us through
Tucked away beneath our sturdy roofs
Let us slumber safe from danger's view this time
Or maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case...

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude
A lesson learned to hunger after You
That a starry sky offers a better view if no roof is overhead
And if we never taste that bread

Oh the differences that often are between
Everything we want and what we need

So grant us peace, Jesus, grant us peace
Move our hearts to hear a single beat
Between alibis and enemies tonight
Or maybe not, not today
Peace may be another world away
And if that's the case...

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude
For lessons learned in how to trust in You
That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream
In abundance or in need
And if You never grant us peace

But Jesus, would You please...
(~Nichole Nordeman)

On my way to work today, I passed a Hummer on Route 19. I think that's the first time I've ever seen one of those completely unnecessary and superfluous vehicles in Allegany County. And it made me so mad! How is it that just the sight of one measly 4-wheeled vehicle can affect me so much? I almost wanted to "accidentally" hit it. (Except I don't think my Talullah would've done much damage...) Maybe I need some practice in patience.

raindrops keep falling on my head...

earlier today water was pouring down from the sky, and now it's drizzling outside, and if there were any doubts in your mind before about how i feel about rain, let it be known that i have definitively decided - i love rain! why do i love rain? well, let me tell you!

• the amazingly soothing sound it makes on the roof
• the way it beads up on the windows, and runs down the panes of glass in tiny rivulets
• the smell of rain...sigh...
• the smell after the rain
• the puddles, oh, the puddles!
• the soft, springy feeling of the ground when you go for a walk after it's rained
• standing outside in the rain, with my face turned up to the sky, eyes closed, letting it wash over me from head to toe
• the fact that it washes my car for me :)
• the way it makes everything greener
• lightning! so beautiful...
• the way thunder rattles the window panes
• the silence after a storm is done, and then the birds start chirping again
  
• i even love the worms that come crawling out onto the sidewalk when it rains...
  
• and when rain is coming down from the sky, it means it's warm! no freezing on its way through the atmosphere! :)
  

Wonderful find of the day:

http://stoneworkjournal.blogspot.com/ - An online literary/art journal published by Prof. John Leax, David Huth, and several Houghton Writing students. Wonderful. You should look into it sometime. I wish I could write like that...

Feliz Dia Internacional da Mulher!

Last year, on International Women's Day, I was talking to someone who was (half-jokingly) indignant about the fact that there's a Women's Day, but no Men's Day. At which point, said person (who happened to be a man) was not-so-gently reminded by every woman in the room that EVERY day of the year is Men's Day. For example, we celebrate national holidays on the birthdays of important people in our history, such as Presidents, and ALL of them are men! Since we haven't had any women as President, I guess I can't complain too much on that count... But we also have Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, to celebrate his contribution to the civil rights movement - so why don't we also have a day celebrating the contributions to the women's rights movement? I mean, would it be that unreasonable to have Elizabeth Cady Stanton Day, or Susan B. Anthony Day? :) (This is just me getting on my soapbox...hehehe...)

Anyways, for all you women out there, happy Women's Day! And for all you wonderful women in my life - Amy, Katrina, Rachel, Michelle, Tegan, Carina, Deanna, Cherith, Amy Rogers, Mom, Grandma, Laura, Karen, Aunt Cindy, Aunt Susan, Christine, Aunt Jodi, Jillian...and so many more - I am so thankful for you, so blessed by you! I am a better woman because of you. Here's to you!

A man is a great thing upon the earth, and through eternity--but
every jot of the greatness of man is unfolded out of woman,
First the man is shaped in the woman, he can then be shaped in
himself.

Walt Whitman :)

I just couldn't resist...

Most of you probably know that I need very little incentive to talk, or write, or even think, extensively on any issue. And for that reason, in response to Sam's comment on my last post, I will gladly offer more of my thoughts on Lent and sacrifice! :) Thanks, Sam, for your thoughts. And for your invitation to dialogue...be careful! You just might get what you asked for! (*grins*)

Part of me, like you, cringes at seeing Lenten vows become more like New Year's resolutions than sacrifices pleasing to a Holy God. I don't want this season to be my excuse to get rid of all the excesses I'm not motivated enough to get rid of during the rest of the year! That's like all the times I've arrived at church forgetting it's Communion Sunday, then upon seeing the bread & wine on the table at the front of the sanctuary, spending the first part of the service madly sorting through my heart in search for all the sins I may not have confessed so that I can partake without the weight of a guilty conscience. (And I have a feeling I'm not the only one who's ever done that before...) The "binging and purging" mentality so many people have of Christianity turns my stomach, and it makes me even more disgusted when I turn around the magnifying glass and see it in my own self. (And I'm afraid I see it in myself more often than I'd care to admit...) I don't want to use Christ's sacrifice as a salve for my guilty conscience - the Word did not become flesh in order to make me feel better about my life, but to draw all people to the Father, as a thief to steal the hearts of men and women and even children. To build a Kingdom on grace and love. To show us just how holy God created us to be, how devastatingly we all fall short, and then turn around and pave the way for us to be made holy through His own blood and His Spirit.

A love that is based on sacrifice is somewhat foreign to this world - or at least partly. We're OK when someone sacrifices out of love for us. But when we're called to sacrifice, that's quite another story! And yet when I think about sacrifice in the Christian life, I can't help but come up with two different kinds of sacrifice. One is the sacrifice of the "old self", the getting rid of things that are truly hindrances, the sifting and pulling and burning away the things that are unpleasing to God. This is a very necessary sacrifice, one we are called to make as followers of Christ! But this is not where it ends. We aren't only called to sacrifice the things we'd be glad to get rid of. We are also called to sacrifice good things - the best things, as you so well pointed out, things that we love and hold dear. This is the truest of all truths! The cost of discipleship is high, and it requires ALL of us, not just part; the surrendering of ALL things for the sake of gaining Christ. It involves being led where we may not want to go, as Jesus told Peter. And, for Lent, I think it is particularly significant that we give up something we enjoy.

Honestly, one of the main reasons I am giving up caffeinated beverages is because I enjoy them. A lot! I mean, I love chocolate, but I honestly don't eat it very often (maybe once a week, if I'm lucky), so it would feel kind of small to give up something I already mostly do without, anyways. Coffee, on the other hand, I drink every day, more than once. And while I have been realizing, now that I've stopped consuming caffeine, that I rely on it a lot more than I thought (as evidenced by my much-more-frequent yawning throughout the day...), I mostly just miss the taste of coffee, the feel of the warm mug in my hand while I'm answering the phone here at work, the comfortable part it has in my daily routine. Which is why I'm not even drinking decaf coffee during Lent. The awareness of my dependence on caffeine has certainly been eye-opening, and it is helping me learn what my limitations really are, (how much sleep I really need! hehehe...) but the primary purpose of my fast is not to get rid of something in my life that I see as being bad. It is because I live a fairly simple life, and there are very few things in which I take pleasure that are not crucial to my existence, my sanity, and my emotional/spiritual well-being at this point in time. I don't think that giving up any kind of food would be healthy for me right now, because I've been having a hard enough time eating healthily recently due to a lot of emotional stress. Other things I really enjoy? People - definitely can't give up people. :) Reading - I live alone, so if I gave up reading, I'd be stuck alone with my thoughts for far more time than I already do, and with where I'm at right now, that wouldn't be healthy, either. Music - I'd thought about it, but then again, I live alone, and music is one of the key ways in which I worship, in which I keep my focus on God instead of getting trapped in my own mind, thinking about things that would be best left alone. I gave up coffee so that, in missing something that I truly enjoy, which is part of my routine every day, I will have a reminder, whenever I crave it or miss it, that I need Christ in my routine that much more. And not just as another part of my routine, but permeating every single part of my routine. That, in the end, is the point of any sacrifice, I think - not the thing that is given up per se, but rather the space that is created in our hearts and lives for God to fill us more fully. Is that not what the Psalmist says? "'I have no need of a bull from your stall or of goats from your pens, for every animal of the forest is mine, and the cattle on a thousand hills'...You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise." He doesn't want the things that I give up for Him. He doesn't need those things. He wants the ME, the YOU, that can be more fully His when we give up those things. When we sacrifice the bad habits AND the good things, to create more room in our lives for Father, Son, and Holy Spirit to work and make us anew day by day.

Holy Spirit, come restore, renew! That is my Lenten prayer - only a magnification of what I long to be my prayer every day - "Lord, I lay all of me down as a sacrifice to You today. Take whatever pieces of me You need to take. Only give me Your love, Yourself, in return. Use me as You see fit." As Dan Holcomb put it so well, perhaps after a lifetime of Ash Wednesdays and Lenten seasons, that prayer will become ingrained in the whole of my life.

So there you have it, Sam - those are some of my thoughts, although I'm sure I could go on for a lot longer... :)

Are you giving anything up for Lent this year?

I didn't start doing it until I came to college, because I didn't really understand why it was important, what Lent was and what it meant to give something up for it. I thought of Easter mainly as a celebration, and didn't think too much about the church's 40-day season of penitence and mourning that comes before it. But I have been learning to love this season, the silence, the meditation, the reflection, the shedding rid of superfluous things to focus on Christ. As far as I can understand it, these are the main reasons why we sacrifice something or abstain from something for Lent:

as a discipline for learning self-control, to free our minds from the chase after material things,

as a reminder of Christ's sufferings and what our true pleasures are as followers of Christ,

as an act of sorrow over our sin.

Would you call me crazy if I told you that I even craved this season of denial? It is refreshing to be free. It is good to be reminded that there is a season for mourning. But that even in the midst of our mourning, we mourn as those who have hope, a sorrow that coexists with joy.

So, it is decided. I will give up coffee for Lent this year. And any sort of caffeinated beverage. (I say beverage because if I said ALL caffeine that would mean chocolate, too! I can do either/or, but not both at once...) So no more perpetual cup of coffee here on my desk next to my left hand. And no more Earl Grey tea after dinner as I curl up on the couch with a book...hmm...maybe I'll have to procure some decaf Earl Grey...But don't worry, I won't cheat and do decaf coffee, too. Coffee is completely out for the next 40 days. It will be a good reminder - whenever I reach for my coffee mug during the day and it isn't there, hopefully it will remind me to pray, to praise, to be mindful of my state and my need to reach for God, for Him to reach for me.

Now, just like in Christian discipleship it isn't enough just to be emptied of all sin, but to also be filled up with Christ's righteousness, the point of giving up something for Lent isn't necessarily the sacrifice. It's the change in us that happens when we sacrifice. It's the room that is freed up, when we pare down unnecessaries and simplify, to be filled with good things. Like prayer, reconciliation, service...So along those same lines, in addition to giving up caffeinated drinks, I'm also adding in regular exercise - 3x a week. That's right, baby! I'll go running this week for the first time this year! :)

So, are you giving anything up for Lent this year? Not that I'm trying to pressure you, or anything - I'm just curious about what kinds of things other people do. :)

So, speaking of procrastination, I think I got MAYbe half of the things on my list done this weekend...My house is what suffered the most neglect, with my kitchen and bedroom still appallingly messy...But, on the other hand, the housekeeping done in my heart was much more profitable! And probably much more needed, too...Conversation with friends and family, the fellowship of the Body, laughter, a solid sermon from Pastor Jon, an evening and afternoon playing with small children. I'm still chewing on a G.K. Chesterton quote that Pastor Jon mentioned:

The problem isn't that the Christian ideal has been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried.

And I can't help but wonder - am I really trying it? Or am I playing it safe because that hurts less, requires less of me?

Procrastination...

So I've always been a procrastinator. All of you who knew me in college know this very well! Pushing the deadlines on papers, burning the candle at both ends to get everything done on time, camping out at the library during the last few weeks of school working on those big papers that we had all semester to work on...Well, in some ways, I guess I thought that after college my procrastination would go away, because I don't have papers and tests and deadlines any more. But for all of you procrastinators out there, you know that the opposite is, in fact, true - when there are no deadlines, procrastination gets WORSE! So I make deadlines for myself. And then, knowing that there are no consequences if I break my self-imposed deadlines, I push them back a little farther. Then I realize that I need to start giving myself consequences, or implementing a reward system, otherwise my motivation would be ZERO! For example, I tell myself, "Becca, you can't watch those new episodes of Gilmore Girls that just arrived from Netflix until you wash all the dishes in the sink and clean out Shelby's cage." The problem comes when I decide that I can get my reward now for doing the work later. For example, I could instead tell myself, "Becca, your reward for washing dishes and cleaning Shelby's cage is Gilmore Girls. But it's Friday night and you're tired, and you know that you're going to do those things tomorrow, so you can just watch Gilmore Girls tonight instead." Danger, Will Robinson! :) So the moral of the story is that it's harder than I thought to be self-motivated. But it feels so good when I actually do it right, in the right order, with the task first and the reward later! So that makes it all worth it. Except I'm still a procrastinator. For example, here is my list of...

Things to do this weekend:

1. Babysit for Jadyn Mucher tonight.
2. Bake bread tomorrow morning.
3. Finally finish and mail that letter to Rachel...that I started forever and a day ago...
4. Finally mail that card to Michelle...
5. Finally clean my room, that is currently submerged in piles of clothing (I don't think I've put anything in a drawer in 2 loads of laundry - it just goes from the clean laundry basket to my body to the dirty laundry basket, or the pile of I've-worn-this-once-but-it-doesn't-need-to-be-washed-yet pile. For all of you who don't have such a pile, you don't know what you're missing. It saves so much laundry-doing!) :)
6. Finally finish reading The Catcher in the Rye, which I had given up during my brief yearly foray back into the world of Narnia.
7. Finally go for a wintry walk near my house, to discover where all the snow-covered country roads actually lead.
8. Bake lots of goodies so that I have "planned-overs" in my fridge this week for Amy, Katrina, and myself to munch on.
9. Pray.
10. Replace the lightbulb in my other headlight, that is now burnt out like the other one was a few months ago, except this one isn't as easy to replace because the angles to get to it are all funny.
11. Work on what I'll be saying when I speak in youth group on Wednesday, about what drives your life.
12. Sleep...lots and lots of sleep... :)

Do you ever have one of those days when the urge to laugh and the urge to cry are equally strong? When you're not sure whether to run outside and dance a jig in the sunshine or to sit inside curled up under a blanket with a book? Whether to talk or just sit back and watch everyone else around you...whether to go to people or wait for them to come to you...whether to go out and change the world for Christ or to rest and allow myself to be changed by Him...whether to sit or stand or kneel or hug or shout or sing or lie down and fall into a very restful sleep? Well, today is one of those days for me. I bet it probably makes it very interesting for the people who work with me... :)

Thought for the day:

"Hope that is seen is no hope at all," Paul told the Romans. He mentions some of the good things that might come out of difficulties: "Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." He lists hope at the end, instead of where I would normally expect it, at the beginning, as the fuel that keeps a person going. No, hope emerges from the struggle, a byproduct of faithfulness.

As for faith, it will always mean believing in what cannot be proven, committing to that of which we can never be sure. A person who lives in faith must proceed on incomplete evidence, trusting in advance what will only make sense in reverse. As Dennis Covington has written, "Mystery is not the absence of meaning, but the presence of more meaning than we can comprehend."
~Philip Yancey, Reaching for the Invisible God

I think this may be the hardest part of faith, the blindness of it all. A blindness that comes not from emptiness, but from a fullness that is too full for me, a brightness that is too bright for these dim eyes to see except in very small doses, reflected and refracted and diffused. "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain." And sometimes, when I ask God to reveal His plan to me, I realize that maybe I don't really want to know it all now. I don't think I could handle it. I might be like Sarah, and laugh, or like Moses, and claim inadequacy. Sometimes I wish things would make sense in advance. But then we wouldn't need faith. And everyone in their right mind would commit their lives to Christ, because there would be certainty in Him, clear-cut answers and paths and directions. It is so much harder to trust in advance what only makes sense in reverse. But here's the difference: the value is not only in the end, where the path is leading, but also in the process, in who we are becoming along the way. "The testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." If we knew ahead of time, we might walk a little straighter, stumble less, but would we really be becoming more like Christ? That task is infinitely harder. But infinitely better.

This is me today:

'Cause Amy & Katrina are getting back in 3 hours!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hip, hip, hooray!!!!!!!!

Life without electricity...

So today I realized what my life would be like without electricity, and the amount of stuff that I wouldn't be able to do was scary! I discovered this when I woke up late because the power had gone out and my alarm didn't go off...so, after much pondering about how much I rely on this amazing phenomenon of moving electrons, here are the things that can't happen in Becca's house/life when the power is out:

1) Waking up! No alarm clock, no wakey-wakey...
2) Showers! Water pump and water heater are both electric...so I'd be very dirty...
3) Eating! No refrigerator, no microwave, no stove...hmm...that leaves dry cereal and cold stuff out of cans and PB&J...
4) Staying warm! All my heat is electric baseboard heating. And I don't have a fireplace. So without electricity, I would freeze...
5) Driving anywhere! Not only does my car use electricity to start, I also can't get out of my garage without the electric garage door opener. At least I haven't figured out how to do it another way...
6) Entertainment! For the most part, I'm usually only at home when it's dark out. So there's only so much that one can do by oneself by candlelight to keep oneself busy...no wonder Laura Ingalls Wilder went to bed so early! :)

I don't realize how dependent I am on electricity for so many things in my life until I suddenly see what my life would be like without it. In the same way, I also can't help but think about how much more completely and utterly dependent I am on God. And sometimes I forget. Sometimes it takes a time when I see what my life would really look like without Him to appreciate and fully grasp how much He sustains me, how much I need Him! "I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord..."

For all you linguists and culturally-interested people...

My mom sent me this one, and I just about fell out of my chair I was laughing so hard! Maybe it's only funny for people who speak Portuguese, or who have been to the Northeast of Brazil (the Brazilian equivalent of "the South"), or who have ever been in places where people try to spell out English words the way they sound to them, but I couldn't resist...

VOCÊ SABE O QUE É TAPOÉ ????? ("Do you know what a tapoé is?" - pronounced as 3 syllables, with the emphasis on the third and the "t" at the beginning sounding more like a soft "d." In Portuguese, it sounds kinda like the name of an animal, or an exotic tropical fruit, or maybe like it could be some character from folklore like the Saci-Pererê, a one-legged black man who lives in a whirlwind.)
ALGUM DIA VOCÊ JÁ VIU UM TAPOÉ???? ("Have you ever seen a tapoé?")
OU SERÁ QUE SUA MÃE SEMPRE ESCONDEU O TAPOÉ DE VOCÊ???? ("Or has your mom always hidden the tapoé from you?")

SEGUE A FOTO DE UM LEGÍTIMO TAPOÉ. ("Here is a picture of an authentic tapoé.")


Get it? It's Tupperware!!!!!!!!! Hahahahahahaha......

Fine, roll your eyes. I think it's hilarious. You only wish you spoke Portuguese like me...

Have you ever had one of those days when everything seems to go by in slow motion? Well, today was one of those days. I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a Mack truck - body aches, fever, sore throat, sinus pressure, the whole shabang...So I called in sick and tried to go back to sleep, but I just tossed and turned. Finally, I decided it was useless to try anymore, and I got up, showered, took some Day Quil, and trucked off to work. I feel like I've been blundering around in a hazy daze, taking longer than usual to do everything, having to have everyone repeat things to me because I forget them...And I really miss being able to breathe through my nose...

Have you ever stopped to think about how amazing it is that our bodies work the way they do? For example, all the sugar and protein and hormone levels in my blood are kept in balance by an amazingly complex system that takes whole textbooks to explain. And, if that system stopped working properly for some reason, it would take a whole medical team on 24-7 rotations, with meds and needles and machines, to make up for it. Like Karis, who has ports and catheters and lines jabbed into her body in 12 different places to handle all of it:
This week, she just started being able to eat again! WOOHOO!!! Orange popsicles and chocolate pudding and ice cream. :) Man, I would miss food...salad, rice and beans, chicken parmesan, extra sharp cheddar cheese...

Right now, if I want to pop on over to the Proctor Station just down the hall for something to munch on, all I have to do is stand up and walk my little body over there. It just takes a few seconds. This is what it takes for Karis to go for a spin down the hall (no food involved):

It takes about an hour just to get her transferred over to the wheel chair!

How blessed I am indeed. And so very little of it has to do with me. Lord, how can I ever be grateful enough for the depths of Your grace?

For once, I wish I had TV channels...Usually, the thought of most television shows just makes me cringe, and I don't want my life to revolve around what my Grandma so fondly refers to as "the boob tube." But for this week, I'd gladly give up all my scrupulous arguments about TV to be able to watch the Olympics. Specifically the figure skating. :) Looking at the pictures online afterwards just doesn't cut it...sigh...anyone want to record them for me?????? I would love you forever! I was trying to figure out whether Netflix would put DVD's of the Olympics in my queue if I asked them to...right above the Godfather...but, somehow, I don't think they'd do it. Bummer!

Food for thought...

From the pen of Nick Spencer, from the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity:

Art should illuminate. And cartoons, as valid an art form as any other, should help us to see ourselves and our world more clearly, exposing faults, parading idiosyncrasies, mocking pretensions.

Regrettably, our response to such illuminations often sheds more light than the illustrations themselves. Such is the case with the reaction to the satirical images of the prophet Muhammad published in various European newspapers over recent months.

It has shown, among other things, how there exists a silent hierarchy of religious sensitivity in Britain. Christian offence at Jerry Springer – The Opera or Gilbert and George’s Sonofagod exhibition (to name but two) is clearly not as important as the potential Muslim reaction to a cartoon of Muhammad.

It has shown how, for some Muslims in the UK, an insult to Islam greatly outweighs the moral and legal framework in which they live, justifying open incitement to violence and murder.

And it has shown how wide is the gap that separates what we might loosely call the religious mentality of the ‘Rest’, which believes that some things should remain beyond ridicule, and the secular one of the ‘West’ that claims that nothing is.

Different as these three matters are, they all point towards one key question: what (if anything) is of ultimate value to us? What (if anything) is sacred?

Our answer to this question will dictate those to the many others that cluster around it: Is there a limit to artistic freedom? Does freedom necessarily involve the freedom to offend? Is religious or national identity more important? Is anything beyond ridicule?

A very good point, Mr. Spencer. Is it unreasonable to expect all use of freedom to also be tempered by respect? Is it my right to infringe on other people's rights?

A week of surprises!

Surprise #1: I finally got to meet my dairy farmer neighbours. When I had to trudge over there and ask for help pushing my car out of the snow bank off the end of my driveway on Tuesday morning on my way to work. :) His name is Dan Smith, and he's a downright pleasant guy, not to mention wonderfully helpful when one's car is stuck in the snow. When I introduced myself, he said, "Oh, I have a daughter named Becca!" Maybe I'll just have to invite their family over for dinner sometime, as a thank you, and so I can meet his daughter Becca. :)

Surprise #2: When I got home from work on Tuesday, already sore from digging and pushing my car out of the snow earlier, I wasn't looking forward to having to shovel the other foot of snow off my driveway that accumulated while I was at work. But then I got home to a CLEAR DRIVEWAY! Someone with a generous heart and a plow on the front of their truck had removed all the snow from my long driveway. HOORAY!!! :)

Surprise #3: Yesterday, I got a surprise visit in my office from my Aunt Paula and Uncle Steve, who moved to Florida not too long ago! They used to live in Andover, about 45 minutes away from Houghton (just south of Wellsville), and they were on their way back through here in the North for visits, doctor's appointments, and a little bit of business, so they decided to stop by and see me at work while they were in the neighborhood. What a wonderful surprise! To catch up with people who you love but haven't seen in a long time. :)

Surprise #4: My cousin Alyson (Uncle Steve & Aunt Paula's daughter) and her husband Jon are pregnant with kid #4! Let's just say it was a surprise. :)

Surprise #5: (Well, this one isn't really a surprise. It's a given. But it makes all these surprises possible, along with all the other amazing things that go on around us every day that we take for granted but are, in fact, truly miracles of God's grace.) God is awesome! And wonderful, and immeasurable, and beautiful, and gracious, and compassionate, and loving, and...humble enough to shrink Himself down into a size that we can see and feel, through the world and people around us, so that we can know His love for us even though it surpasses knowledge, and so that we can love Him back.

Interesting in Exodus...

So, our church is reading through the Bible in one year together this year, and even though I've read through it many, many times before, it never ceases to amaze me how many things I stumble across that I've somehow never noticed before! Do you ever do that?

This week's musings and delvings were kicked off by something Pastor Jon mentioned in his sermon on Sunday, about the ways in which God works to bring His people freedom. Jumping off from the plagues, he talked about how His deliverance often comes in stages, not all at once, and His plan is mysterious and even confusing until it is fully completed. And he used as an example the crossing of the Red Sea, in which Moses prays and raises his staff as the Egyptians close in on them, and...the wind blows? That's God's deliverance? Exodus 14: 21 says that the wind blew all that night. Maybe it's because I've seen Cecil B. DeMille's Ten Commandments too many times, but I'd always pictured the parting of the sea as a pretty instantaneous occurrence. Moses raises his staff and prays, and BAM! there is a dry path through the sea. But it wasn't like that. It took the wind blowing all night. And even with the pillar of fire between them and the Egyptians, that must have been a pretty confusing, frightening, and sleepless night for the Israelites, wondering what the heck kind of help wind was going to be against Pharaoh's chariots! It was still miraculous, mind you, but I'm sure the people must have been thinking, "Hurry up, already!" as they waited on pins and needles with the Egyptians breathing down their necks. And yet when morning came, that long night of waiting became clearly worth it, as there was singing and dancing and worship for the Lord who works deliverance through blowing wind.

So, still thinking about the often slow and mysterious ways in which God works, I came across that same theme later in Exodus, as God is addressing His people from Mount Sinai. After giving them the Ten Commandments, telling them how to live in love and justice with each other, teaching them about the festivals they are to keep, He promises to drive out the Hittites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Jebusites, Amorites, and Hivites from the land that will be theirs. But then He adds, "But I will not do this all in one year because the land would become a wilderness, and the wild animals would become too many to control. I will drive them out a little at a time until your population has increased enough to fill the land." Hmmm...not exactly what they were expecting, I'd imagine. In other words, "I will work My promises slowly, so that you can keep up, so that when the time comes for the fullness of My work, you will be have grown enough to handle it." Wow. I had honestly never caught that before. Yet another reminder that His ways are higher than mine, that things will come about in His time regardless of how much I fret. "Be still, my child! You can trust me!"

Thank you, Rachel!!!!

Today, I just got a new book in the mail, at the suggestion of my wonderful friend Rachel, who is beautiful, and whose heart is even more beautiful: Between Heaven and Earth. Yes, I'm in the middle of my workday, but when a package comes in the mail run with my name on it, and I KNOW that it's the book I just ordered, it's hard not to rip it open and take a peek right away anyways. It's a compilation of prayers and people's musings about prayer, and even in my random flipping through its pages, it has already blessed my socks off! Here's a tidbit:

Why do we pray?

For reassurance, sometimes, because it's an uncertain world and each of us needs our spirit bolstered from time to time. For guidance, sometimes, because it's an uncharted way we travel, and we need all the direction we can get. For help, other times, because the way is long and almost always uphill and sometimes perilous.

We pray for our daily bread and our yearly physical. We pray when we wake up in the morning and when we go to bed at night. We pray when we're confused. Or lonely. Or sad. We pray when we're happy, too. And when we're grateful. Grateful for seeing a hummingbird up close or a double-rainbow off in the distance. Grateful for a good friend who was there when we needed someone to listen...or there when we needed someone to speak. We pray for reasons as slight as a sudden feeling of appreciation for a cloud that shades us from the sun to one as serious as a lingering sense of abandonment in the face of some personal tragedy.

Partly, though, at least, we pray to find the part of us that is missing. Like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle that draws attention to itself by its absence. Like the empty space on a wall that calls out to be filled with a picture or a piece of furniture. Like the bare spot in a lawn that yearns for grass. Prayer is a cry from the bare spot in our lives, from the empty space, from the part of us that is missing. It is the wounded part seeking to be healed, the missing part seeking to be found, the now-dry clay of the sculpture seeking the hands that first touched it, first caressed it, first loved it.

Somehow, I think that's exactly why I pray. And it seems to make "praying without ceasing" a little less daunting of a task. :) Thanks for the book suggestion, Rach!

So, the Superbowl is coming up this weekend,
and I just have one question for you, a question that I have been asking for a loooooong time:

Why do they call it football?

I mean, the ball is actually in contact with someone's foot for maybe 1% of the game. Which makes it only slightly more of a foot sport than basketball, in which the only involvement the feet have is running around. The hands have more involvement in soccer (the real "football") than the feet do in American football, even if you don't count the goalie, because of how many throw-ins there are in a game. Who comes up with these silly ideas, anyways?

Every week at youth group, I have a blast. We play amazingly fun games, and sometimes I can't believe how few of the kids already knew them. For example, last night we played Fruit Basket Upset (which Pastor Don re-named Demolition Fruit Basket to add the full-contact element...), and only about 5 of the 30-something teenagers there had ever heard of it before! Can you believe it? (If YOU don't know how to play Fruit Basket, MY mouth is gaping at you right now, like a fish, in disbelief and shock.) We also played a modified version of Speed Scrabble/Take Two - my favourite game of ALL TIME - except with giant Scrabble letters, making a crossword puzzle on the floor, and whenever a team yelled out "Take one!" they had to send someone running across the room to get a letter out of the pile. TONS of fun. Except for when they started getting frustrated that they couldn't think of words to use - I guess that's what I take for granted from having grown up in a home where reading and talking and playing games gave me a HUGE vocabulary. Among many other things.

But every week at youth group, my heart also breaks. It breaks because so many of these kids don't have so many of those things that I have taken for granted. Like 2 parents who love each other, who desire to know and love and follow God, who love me and want me to live in Christ. (Not to mention siblings and grandparents and aunts, uncles, and cousins who do, too.) Like encouragement from friends and teachers to do well in school and in life. Like food to eat every day, and no shortage of clothes to wear (and that I LIKE to wear), and having no relatives in jail, and a million other things. And when the kids in youth group drive me crazy with their antics, it helps to remember that a lot of the reason for their behaviour is that it's a cover-up for all the ways in which they feel exposed and helpless and vulnerable and shafted and hurt. So many of the kids I work with every week don't have the things I used to take for granted. Some of them are so starved for attention that they would rather act out and get reprimanded than risk being a wallflower, being ignored. Some of them have families that don't care a snit about what they do with their lives, and others have families that are working so hard to make ends meet that they don't have any time left to be involved in their kids' lives at all. It reminds me every week of how much I have to be grateful for, how little of it has to do with any merit or effort of mine, and how much I am called to share the blessings that have been so lavishly bestowed upon me.

Funny story of the week...

So, I love small children. I love the way they talk, dropping letters and mixing up words. I love (and envy) their amazing amounts of energy, and I inevitably get a very silly grin on my face when I'm "attacked" by a full-body kid hug - you know, the kind that finds their legs wrapped around your waist, and their arms trying as hard as they can to reach around your neck, and a slobbery kiss planted on your cheek? Those are the best. Especially when followed up by tickling. :) Another one of my favourite things about kids is their adaptability, their ability (most of the time) to go with the flow. Well, yesterday after church, Joshua Ward, the adorable 2-year-old son of Pastor Jon and Ashley, proved his ability to go with the flow. Literally.

We all had Sunday dinner over at Laura and Walter's, and Joshy (pronounced "Shoshy" by him...) was REALLY thirsty. He had a whole glass of milk before lunch, and another one with the meal. We DID take him to the bathroom before sitting down to eat, but as a distractable boy in the process of being potty-trained, he was a little too engrossed with playing with his food to notice that his bladder was full. So, needless to say, at one point when his dad was checking to see if he had eaten enough, it became apparent that there was a rather large wet stain on Shoshy's pants...Oh, well! He didn't mind being wet, so he ran around in wet pants for a while until he came up to his dad and said he needed to go to the bathroom. Again. Not 5 minutes later. Well, Josh beat his dad to the bathroom, but still wasn't fast enough...so Pastor Jon had a very wet sock...and Josh's clothes were soaked beyond wearing. No worries! Who needs pants? Life is much more fun when you're FREE!!!!! (Although it IS a bit more drafty...) So we had a very cute 2-year-old boy running around the house with a shirt and sweater on, and nothing else. Without a care in the world. :) My favourite part was when he ran over to the window that overlooks the street, and hid behind the curtains from all of us. (Except, of course, he forgot that while hiding from us he was exposing his naked tush to the whole rest of the world!!!!!) It was adorable. I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants.

I'm going to paraphrase, 'cause I don't remember exactly how it went, but Lauren F. Winner wrote something like this:

Profound conversations aren't the point of community. We don't form relationships and community so that someday we can have profound conversations with people. The relationship in itself is the point. Sharing hundreds and millions of experiences like Scrabble games and walks in the park and flapjacks in your best friend's kitchen are, in fact, what it's all about. They're not necessary nuisances, stepping stones along the way until you can finally get to the point where you can talk about God and your deepest fears and why we should or shouldn't have sex and whether either Calvin or Arminius have it right. Those hundreds and millions of shared experiences are, in and of themselves, the point.

How important it was for me to be reminded of that this week, in my interactions and conversations with so many people! Community is the point. Sharing our lives with God and people, on all possible levels and in all possible areas of our lives, is the point. Sharing a cup of tea, laughter, tears, a hug, a meal, a movie, are not necessary hurdles that we need to get over so we can get to "the good stuff" - they're part of the good stuff. They're the very real arenas in which community is lived, where love is fleshed out! Profound conversations are an added bonus, an extra that is sometimes thrown in along the way, a privilege that is gained because we are in community. But love that binds us all together in perfect unity - that is the point. Word. Thanks for the reminder. 'Cause sometimes I forget.

Winter is back again! No more teasers of spring - it's snowing in Houghton! And you know what? I kind of missed it. Go figure.

I feel like Peter.

You know, Simon Peter, after he had denied Jesus and the rooster crowed and he wept. Well, I have been having a dialogue with God similar to that one that Jesus had with Peter by the Sea of Galilee, after He came back from the dead, after He made his disciples catch amazing boatloads of fish once again like he had before. The dialogue in which Jesus asks, "Peter, do you truly love me more than these?", and then again, "Peter, do you truly love me?", and then the third time, that really hurt, "Peter, do you love me?" "Yes, Lord, You know I love you." "Then feed my sheep...Follow me."

My dialogue was not by a sea after fishing, but in my car, on my way home from watching The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe with Kat, Paul, Sean, Amy, and Jeff Brown. And I was remembering how Lucy was always the one to see the right way, Aslan's way, even when others called it nonsense. Like going back to Narnia, or trusting the Beavers. Like in Prince Caspian when she decided she would follow Aslan down the cliffs and up the other side of the gorge even if she had to do it alone, though the others couldn't see him. Or countless other times when she was the only one who saw Him or understood what was going on. I was crying out to God because I wanted to see, I wanted to understand, but I didn't. I was begging Him to show me what He was doing that I couldn't see yet, and as the tears blurred my eyes so I could hardly see the road anymore, I heard Him say those words He said to Peter that day, "Do you love me?" "Yes, Lord. Beyond a shadow of a doubt."

Then, gently, a different question: "Then do you trust me?"
Tentatively: "Yes...But..."
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes...But..."
The third time, the one that hurt: "DO YOU TRUST ME?"
(Long pause...I grip the steering wheel tighter...take a deep breath...let out a long sigh...) "Yes."

Ouch. You got me.

"Then follow Me."

And I know that I can do nothing else. There are no other options that even come close.

The past few days have been the busiest days EVER here in the office of the Nielsen Physical Education Center. Hence why I didn't update you yesterday on how speaking in youth group went. In fact, the only things I did yesterday here at my desk that weren't strictly work were introducing myself on Sam's blog, and paying my credit card bill. No blog-surfing, no checking the news, no writing about my life, no funny stories or jokes or pictures. Just the phones ringing off the hook and e-mails pouring in and people constantly streaming in and out needing something. And today hasn't been much better...BUT that will not stop me this time!!!!!

So, for those of you who are curious about how youth group went on Wednesday night, I'll tell you right here and right now. (For those of you who aren't curious, you can go ahead and stop reading now...) It was scary. Being honest with other people is scary - honest about what I struggle with, honest about the lessons about people and God and myself which I have learned the hard way. But there is also something very freeing about being honest. And the kids were surprisingly quiet and attentive for most of the time, which is a rarity! Pastor Don commented to me at the end that he thinks that sometimes when there is tittering going on among them, it is probably because the words were hitting home for some of them and that made them uncomfortable. Go, Holy Spirit! Do Your work! So many of those kids are struggling not to be defined by their situations over which they have no control, like divorced parents, siblings in jail, poverty, and sexual abuse, and they need to know that there is a treasure in them that no amount of pressing or crushing can destroy - the image of God, that is being made clearer and brighter as we are being renewed day by day. And if it was (hopefully) good for them, it was also definitely good for me, knowing that as God does work through me, He is also doing work in me, to peel away a little more of the dirt and grime and pride and show that this strength comes not of any merit of mine, but by the grace of God.
Amen and amen.

HELP!!!!

Does anyone know how to get and keep the attention of a group of 30 teenagers????? Because I'm endeavoring the hugely intimidating task of presenting the devotional at youth group tonight, and I have prepared what to say, but I just don't know how to bring it home! Doing a Faith Journey in chapel would have been hard enough if I had been asked to do so, but to Jr. High students? Yikes! I'm talking about identity, and how we are often given an identity by others that may or may not reflect who we actually are (for example, from kindergarten to 12th grade I was always "the smart one," and it drove me nuts that people didn't seem to notice or care about all the other parts of me that didn't fit under that category), but that in the end the label that covers all these labels is the one that God bestows on us that says, "you are MINE!" I'm trying to make it at least a little bit interactive, by giving them each actual labels to wear...Unless they decide to crumple them up and use them as ammo against each other...Here's hoping...

From a movie that I have now watched 3 times in the past week...About a Boy...

Marcus: "Suddenly I realized: 2 people isn't enough. You need a backup. If you're only 2 people, and someone drops off the edge, then you're on your own. Two isn't a large enough number. You need 3, at least!"

word. here's to backup!!!!!!!

Do you ever get that feeling when you wake up in the morning that you don't want it to be morning yet, but you know that you won't be able to get back to sleep again even if you tried? Well, I was in that state this morning. I didn't want to get up, but I knew that staying in bed would be pointless. Then I rolled over to face the window and I noticed tiny shafts of pink seeping through the cracks between my blinds.

So in a stroke of boldness, I gathered up my courage, threw off the covers, and yanked up the blinds, to find one of the most beautiful sunrises I have ever seen. Bright red across the whole horizon, blending into fiery oranges and softer yellows, against a purple-grey background - simply breathtaking!

The thing about sunrises is that, if you sit and watch them, the changes in colour and brightness are so gradual that you don't really notice them happening. But when you turn your back on it for even a few seconds, then turn to it again, the amount of change in those few seconds can be astounding! (I was thinking of using this as a springboard for some sort of profound illustration, but now I can't think of any...)

In any case, that spectacular sunrise was a great way to start off the week! I think it may make me smile all day. :)

I want to help!

If faith is being sure of what we hope for,
Certain of what we do not see,
How does one convey certainty?
Because I am certain.
But I don't know how I came to be certain.
How does one explain
Joy in the midst of pain,
Peace in the midst of trouble,
Life in the midst of death,
A Love that knows no bounds?
I can't convince anyone of these things
With words strung together.
But neither can I manufacture
The experiences by which certainty comes,
And so I sit by and wait.

It feels so small, so passive,
This waiting and watching while You work,
When all I can do is pray!
I want to help!
But I know that what is needed is deeper than words,
The way that is blazed by the Spirit
Through the hard grind of life,
The way of experience, of One who has seen and heard and felt it all,
The way paved with the blood from Your side
When You cried, “It is finished!”
Because only You can finish it.
You have let me help for a little while,
But now it is beyond my reach.
Beyond the reach of words or actions or reason.
For certainty has to be learned and seen and experienced,
Without intermediates,
The glaring beauty of Your holiness,
The merciful scalpel of Your love.
Straight from the source.
Pure, unadulterated, devastating Goodness,
That peels back and lays bare
And pulls out the cancer that is eating us up
From the inside out.
So we can heal.
So we can learn how much taller and straighter we can walk
Without carrying around this unnecessary weight.
We have no idea how much You sustain us.
You work even when we are sleeping.
The sun rises & sets at a word from Your mouth.
You do not need our help.
So thank You for letting me help sometimes. Even just a little bit.

Funny story of the day...

Last night, Amy, Katrina, and I went out to Ace's for dinner, where we talked and talked and talked until our food got cold (well, at least mine did...) and we realized that the whole restaurant was empty. Then I noticed that they were vacuuming the floors. And so we decided that maybe we should get up and pay our bill and be on our way - which we did, all the while still laughing and talking. As we were walking out the door, we asked our very obliging waitress what time they usually close, and she told us , "Mondays and Tuesdays we usually close at 7." It was 7:40!!!!!!!!!! AAAH!!!!!!!!!! We felt like very terrible, insensitive people who should have tipped more...even though she assured us that she would have stayed this late anyways to clean up (which she had done all around us while we ate into her evening free time.)

But wait, there's more!!! Upon arriving back on campus, Amy and I dropped Kat off at Paul's townhouse, and went to the campus centre to check our e-mail. Of COURSE, Amy got an e-mail from Sam, and so it is no surprise that she was a little flustered/distracted on our way out to the car, and I was on the phone with Michelle, and as we opened our respective doors to get in the car, Amy says, "Wait! This isn't your car!" She was right. As we were walking up to it, I thought it looked a little too clean to be Tallulah, but I figured it just wasn't as noticeable at night time. But then Amy realized that her bag of clothes wasn't in the back seat, and the light bulb in her head came on much faster than mine did, at which point we collapsed in hysterical laughter in the parking lot. We DID find Tallulah. I had parked her over in the ATM parking slot, and the other car wasmuch more visible, right under the street light, the first car you lay eyes on after leaving the campus centre. Only in Houghton! Where everyone leaves their car unlocked...Otherwise, we would have had car alarms going off and suspected theft... :)

WOOHOO!!!!!

My friend Karis, who went to school with me since 2nd grade, is getting a transplant today!!!!!!!! After a failed intestinal transplant over a year ago that put her into a coma for several months, and being in and out of the hospital for the past year, she finally got a phone call last night saying that they have new organs for her! I think this time she's getting new intestines, liver, and maybe even a pancreas. Amazing what technology can do these days...

For those of you who don't know her or haven't heard about her from me, Karis has been sick her whole life, but her testimony, and that of her family, is simply astounding. They have brought light and love to so many hospital wards, and to many people outside hospitals with whom they get a chance to interact. They have experienced the sustaining grace of God in sickness and health, in want and in plenty, and they will eagerly tell anyone who asks them about where their joy comes from in the midst of pain. Prayers are going up around the world right now, that the surgery would go well, and that the organs would take this time.

This weekend, I finished 3 of the books on my list - Yancey, Nouwen, and the Advent reader. Following the suggestion of my wonderful mother (who has greatly influenced my love of books...among other things...), I have picked up Brennan Manning's classic The Ragamuffin Gospel as one of my next ventures. I first read it during the summer of 2004, with my beloved Godspeed team, and I'm picking it back up again at a very different place in life. Like any book, its contents must be taken with a grain of salt, but seeing as I've also inherited from my mother a penchant for analyzing EVERYTHING I come across (often to the point of being ridiculous...), salt very rarely seems to be lacking in my literary diet! But in the midst of my frequent over-analysis, something very refreshing jumps out from the pages. Honesty. And grace. What Manning writes in his introduction, regarding his book, I think could be expanded to describe the Gospel itself.

[The Good News] is not for the super-spiritual. It is not for muscular Christians who have made John Wayne and not Jesus their hero. It is not for academicians who would imprison Jesus in the ivory tower of exegesis. It is not for noisy, feel-good folks who manipulate Christianity into a naked appeal to emotion. It is not for hooded mystics who want magic in their religion. It is not for Alleluia Christians who live only on the mountaintop and have never visited the valley of desolation. It is not for the fearless and tearless...It is not for legalists who would rather surrender control of their souls to rules than run the risk of living in union with Jesus.

[It is] for the bedraggled, beat-up, and burnt-out. It is for the sorely burdened who are still shifting the heavy suitcase from one hand to the other. It is for the wobbly and weak-kneed who know they don't have it all together and are too proud to accept the handout of amazing grace. It is for the inconsistent, unsteady disciples whose cheese is falling off their cracker. It is for poor, weak, sinful men and women with hereditary faults and limited talents. It is for earthen vessels who shuffle along on feet of clay. It is for the bent and the bruised who feel that their lives are a grave disappointment to God. It is for smart people who know they are stupid and honest disciples who know they are scalawags.

From one closet scalawag to another, my cheese has completely fallen off my cracker. I am in desperate need of grace.

I'm an incurable bookworm...

Lately, I have been having a hard time putting my thoughts & feelings into words. Do you ever feel that way? They seem to float and flit about in my head and in my heart like vapors, not quite substantial enough to be grasped onto but still undeniably there - felt, smelled, tasted, and their nuances affect me. And for someone like me, who processes things best externally, through journalling and conversation and prayer, a lack of words is a real problem. So, in the inability to put my own words to these things, I have pored over pages and pages of other peoples' words, trying to find someone who could flesh out these jumbled wisps, making them somehow a bit more substantial and concrete. And it has been a blessed venture, indeed! To find, in books and blogs and Scripture and sermons and songs, words from others that capture the aching in my own bones, the near-bursting joy mingled with heart-breaking sorrow, the words that I couldn't find for myself. Some of these sources are as follows:

The Jesus I Never Knew, by Philip Yancey
Watch the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas, by various authors
Christianity at the Religious Roundtable, by Timothy Tennent
Job
Psalms
Genesis
The Gospel of Luke
Acts
II Corinthians
In Her Words: Women's Writings in the History of Christian Thought, by Amy Oden
The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
The Genesee Diaries, by Henri J.M. Nouwen

Yes, these are all simultaneous...The stack of books next to my bed is huge! I'm almost done with a few of them, though, so...do any of you have any suggestions? :)

(Thank goodness for libraries! That way, I don't have to spend a fortune to feed my habit...)

I wish I had pictures...

Pictures of a lovely weekend in Washington, DC, with Mike, Tegan, and Mike's sister Kimmie! Of the living room floor strewn with books that we all have been reading, the massive jar of Nerds that has been getting emptier and emptier every day (hehehe...), the Russian teacakes that we baked last night, and of course Tegan curled up for a nap in the papasan chair. Or in bed. Or on the floor. Or pretty much anywhere. :) Pictures of the four of us crowded around a computer screen watching movies late at night, or wandering around the DC malls on New Year's Eve only to find that pretty much everything closed at 6 pm except the wine & liquor stores...interesting... Oh, and pictures of Tegan taking over the world!!! That's right, we brought in the New Year playing Risk, and although I had control of all of the Americas and almost half of Asia at one point, everyone ganged up on me and I was the first one eliminated...and then Tegan took over the world...Maybe someday I'll develop a sense of strategy! Until then, I will fly by the seat of my pants as usual.

"Any New Year's resolutions?" you may ask. And my answer is no. I have a life resolution: I want to learn. I want to learn how to change my own oil. I want to learn how to play the guitar. I want to learn how to listen better, instead of having my first reflex be to open my mouth and blurt something out. I want to learn about grace, about trust, about hope, about love, about what kind of justice God wants, about sacrifice, about how to pray without ceasing. I want to learn how to make bread without a recipe (I still need to peek sometimes...). I want to learn how to hold tightly, tenaciously, to the things that matter, and learn how to let go of the things that don't matter. I want to learn to wake up every morning and face life head on, with my eyes wide open. This is my life resolution. I want to be a perpetual learner.

In other news, KATRINA AND AMY GET BACK TODAY!!!!! Woohoo!!!! I can hardly wait. (And, Amy, Tegan graciously bestowed some ginger on me, so now we can make ginger tea!)