I had my last training shift at Upper Crust last night. Joanne, one of the regulars, sat at the bar as I finished up my side work. Her book caught my attention. I didn’t read the whole title, but in bold orange letters, the word JESUS beckoned to me. I asked her about the book, and she explained why she was reading it. Joanne told me about her beliefs, and then I asked her to describe her faith to me. She said that she’s in the pursuit of truth, always learning. She said that she was a Christian, “in the most liberal sense of the word.” Then she turned the question on little-old-unsuspecting me. She asked me as I wiped the counter, “How would you describe your faith?”
There was no turning back. I stared at the black and green flecked granite bar for a moment, then answered, “I’m a follower of Christ.” After a pause, I rephrased my response: “I’m surrendered to Christ.” I have found that this answer is solid. The word “Christian” has so many negative, ugly and unseemly connotations. How sad! I can’t even use the phrase Christian to describe myself without seeming cold, judgmental and hateful.
Quite frankly, that’s not the Christ I serve. The Christ I serve created me for a divine romance with himself, that I might know the Greatest Love. He laid down his life to pay the penalty of my shortcomings, that I would be reconciled with the Father. He lavishes a love so great on my that I can’t even imagine its limits. That’s the love that he died to share with me, with you, with Joanne. He even died so that my Agnostic and Atheistic professors would recognize his love. My prayer in this time is that I could be a witness of this beautiful dance of Grace and Truth that Jesus so perfectly modeled.
Also–had a wild spiritual convo crop up outa no where tonight at the MLL Spring Banquet. I just sat and picked at my Thai food (yuck) while my fellow students (and professors!!!) asked me to describe my beliefs and the work that I’ll be doing with Campus Crusade for Christ next year. So, naturally I just presented the gospel to three other students and two professors. One prof wanted to stay late to discuss spiritual things. The two of us sat the restaurant for a half hour after the rest of the party had left. Absolutely loco, I tell you. That stuff doesn’t just happen. The Holy Spirit is alive and moving in SLO. Pray for changed lives!
That’s the title of a rather sad Jon Foreman song. The song is sad, but it has a good message. The song reminds that no matter how “off-track” someone’s life has gotten, she is still “somebody’s baby, somebody’s baby girl.”
I like to remember that. It reminds me to love others. It reminds me that I am loved. That I am somebody’s baby girl. I belong to not only some awesome parents, but to my Heavenly Father, who loves me with unfailing love. Everyone is somebody’s baby. I need to remember that and remember to love like I believe that.
On a lighter note, here’s a rather telling shot of me as somebody’s baby girl….
I got my beautiful periwinkle bridesmaid dress in the mail this weekend. I was thrilled! After just a wee bit of alteration, it will make a fabulous dress in which I can support my dear Lyse as she walks down the aisle. Really though, I was so so excited when the dress came. I was just about to leave the hose to go to a babysitting job (leaving about 2 minutes late, as usual) when Lance knocked on my door. I threw on the rest of my clothes and answered. In his hands he had the box. I knew exactly what was in it. I took the box to the kitchen, cut it open as quickly (and carefully!) as I could. I then ran back to my room to try it on, all the while knowing I was growing later by the second to nanny my sweet Cassius and Jaydn.
The color is perfect, accenting both fair and golden complexions, much to my delight. Admiring myself in the mirror, I imagined how wonderful it would look as soon as it fits me properly. After a moment, I quickly threw back on my coral t-shirt and tattered jeans and dashed out the door. When I returned home that evening, I found the most curious sight. The box in which the dress came had its back facing my bedroom door as I entered. Here’s what I saw:
The wheels in my head starting turning. Did this box know me or something? It was as if it was proclaiming my identity to me as I waltzed through the door. My beautiful bridesmaid dress, used to aid my friend bid a goodbye to her singleness, was screaming at me in irony. Here’s a close-up of the box (enjoy):
why do baby heads smell so darn good? they are probably my second favorite scent…right behind laundry detergent. baby cassius lets me sniff his sweet head every time i watch him, which is awesome. he even lets me smooch his chubby cheeks and the top of his head. this job rocks.
After writing 9,o00 words for my senior project in the last few weeks, my brain is empty of things to say here. Excuse me while I search for a creative outlet. Off to doodle and read Don Miller. He always gets my creativity flowing. Even though our political ideologies don’t line up.
On another note, I feel empty of wisdom right now. A friend and I have been having some pretty heavy spiritual conversations lately, and I just feel pretty dry on answers. Please pray for our conversations!
This isn’t a Christian song. Far from it. But the message is cool. I have definitely felt the God of the universe whisper this to me in the past few months.
so let go, jump in
oh well, whatcha waiting for
it’s alright
’cause there’s beauty in the breakdown
so let go, just get in
oh, it’s so amazing here
it’s alright
’cause there’s beauty in the breakdown
such boundless pleasure
we’ve no time for later now
you can’t await your own arrival
you’ve 20 seconds to comply
The message is continual, gentle, persistent. He uses all means possible to convey the message…even Frou Frou lyrics. The Most High God, creator of all things cares about my heart. Now that is crazy. CRAZY. He cares about yours too. I’m not just pulling this out of thin air. I have tasted and seen the goodness of the Lord while I am in the land of the living. But don’t take my word for it:
Let go…see the beauty in the breakdown. (2 Corinthians 12:1-10)
Today, as I drove home from church, a noteworthy event took place.
I left CalvarySLO around 10:15am, and turned out onto Broad St, where a maroon Ford Aerostar van pulled up next to me (it didn’t look too different from that pic). I took off from a stop light, and the van was going about the same speed as me, but I took no notice. My window was down, as it was a beautiful SLO Sunday morning, and I wasn’t about to miss it in order to run my AC.
I was enjoying the 3 minute drive home, soaking it in by not taking off from the light too fast. I was even thinking to myself about how this is an excellent way to conserve gasoline, too! The man in the passenger seat of the van (who I assume was of Mexican decent, perhaps he was some other latin american nationality, though) called out through the open window of the Aerostar,
“Hey! ¡Hola! ¿Cómo estás?”
The driver whistled at me, and both gave that machísimo smile. You know, that smile. I don’t understand how any woman has ever been wooed by that smile. Come on, ladies. That really works on you?
I was caught off guard for a split second, then called back in my best Mexican accent as I slowly increased my speed,
“¡Buenos días! ¡Muy bien, gracias! ¿Y usted?”
Well, that did the trick. They stared back, dumbfounded. The ol’ white girl speaking Spanish gig strikes again! I love my life and my (seemingly) useless major in moments like this.
Tonight I am back at Higher Groundz, one of my favorite coffee shops in SLO. It is a good place to study. I should be studying, what with the French midterm tomorrow, the senior project introduction due Friday.
But I need to write something in my native language. So hello, WordPress. I am overwhelmed, underwhelmed. Here comes some “verbal” processing. The Lord has been leading me so well, directing my steps as I remain in him. Here’s an example:
Today I sat in the UU plaza with Caellin and Lyse and got the WORST sunburn of the year It’s not real cute. Anyway, we talked about our weekends, and I soaked up all the wisdom I could from Caellin as she explained her experiences of ministry partner development (MPD) to Lyse and I. Later, after a brief intermission of French literature, I came back to the UU plaza to meet with Megan to talk about support raising for her summer project to Tokyo. I felt really inadequate talking with her, because I am dealing with so much doubt in the are of the Lord’s provision lately. To be honest, my emotions feel just like the skin on my back: dry, itchy, burned, uncomfortable. I’m over-cooked with all of the information that my mind marinates in after a weekend full of good, albeit overwhelming details of MPD.
It turns out that the Lord blessed my conversation with Megan, who brings joy to my life through her willingness to follow the Lord’s call to Tokyo. Talking with Megan was just what I needed to remember all of the truths the Lord has been teaching me lately about how to trust in him to fight for me. Deut. 2-3, 1 Kings 17, Philippians 4 just kept coming to mind as we talked. Towards the end of our conversation, Ashley, a team member from the Invisible Children roadies came to up to us and we talked for a bit about Invisible Children and life. After a few minutes of chatting, Ashley shared with us about how she recently stayed with a missionary family in Orange County, where she was blown away by the way they lived their lives completely off of financial support from ministry partners.
I was blown away too. This story, unsolicited from a complete stranger was a breath of fresh air into my sunburned day. Thank goodness for aloe vera and encouragement from sisters in Christ.
Ashely is great. Check out her video….she’s legit:
my mid twenties can be summed up in one breathe as this; You’ve become an adult and its really nothing like you imagined.
Amen and amen. That’s all I can say….just substitute the word “early” for “mid” in front of twenties, and that’s me in a nutshell these days. But it is good, oh so good.
I’m kicking-off my internship with Campus Crusade this weekend and the appropriately named “kick off weekend” in Orange County. Here’s to long car rides with friends, putting off homework til Monday morning and learning all about support raising. Pray for me if you think of it. That’s all…I’m late to my French conversation class.
It’s not real cute. Anyway, we talked about our weekends, and I soaked up all the wisdom I could from Caellin as she explained her experiences of ministry partner development (MPD) to Lyse and I. Later, after a brief intermission of French literature, I came back to the UU plaza to meet with Megan to talk about support raising for her summer project to Tokyo. I felt really inadequate talking with her, because I am dealing with so much doubt in the are of the Lord’s provision lately. To be honest, my emotions feel just like the skin on my back: dry, itchy, burned, uncomfortable. I’m over-cooked with all of the information that my mind marinates in after a weekend full of good, albeit overwhelming details of MPD.
