Vivere Vix Deus

Storms

2012-01-22T12:24:00.006-05:00

Last spring I was babysitting for some good friends of mine. I love their family. I love their kids. And there is never a dull moment with them. For those of you who know me personally (or know them), I'm referring to the Parkers (whose blog you can follow here when you need a dose of laughter or food for thought). I wanted to write about this when it happened last spring, but I guess better late than never, n'est pas?

I had been watching Anaya, Seth, and Skyler for the afternoon, and it had been a lot of fun. We played some games, read some stories, and then Seth and Anaya wanted to go outside. So outside we went. As I sat on the porch with Skyler and Seth, I watched the sky, and they did as well. There were dark storm clouds above threatening to let loose a furious downpour.

"I don't yike storms," Skyler told me nervously.

Seth responded before I could, and with a melancholy look on his face said, "I love storms."

I smiled, and told Skyler, "I love storms, too. Do you want to know why?"

"Yesh," he replied.

So I told Seth and Skyler the story of the Israelites camped at the base of Mt. Sinai when God came down to speak to Moses. I read to them Exodus 19:16 where it says that there was thunder and lightning and a thick cloud on the mountain because God's Presence was there. And I told them that I loved storms in part because they remind me of God's power; storms make me feel like God is near.

Skyler wasn't convinced. But we stayed outside a while longer and played some games in the yard.

Later that evening shortly after Dr. and Mrs. Parker got home, the sky let loose. Rain was pounding the ground, wind whipping tree branches, and the tornado sirens started sounding over at the university. After some discussion, Dr. and Mrs. Parker decided that they would pack a few things and head over to Dr. Parker's office since they didn't have a basement in their house. I decided to head back home, but just before I got out the door, Skyler came over to me.

"I yike storms because we get to go to daddy's office." His eyes sparkled with excitement as he smiled up at me. His fear of the storm was completely forgotten.

At that moment, I wished that I were more like Skyler. Somehow there's a slight disconnect in my mind between physical storms and life storms. I love real storms for a lot of reasons. I especially love that they make me feel so small and make me feel that God's Presence is near. But for some reason, I haven't particularly carried that view and those feelings over to life storms. Somehow when I'm in the midst of a life storm, it seems so much easier to forget that God is near, so much easier to feel lost and alone.

Skyler's reason for liking storms should be mine as well. He was thrilled for an excuse to spend time with his father. He was grateful for an opportunity to be with his dad and to be protected by him. As long as Skyler could be with his father during the storm, there was no room for fear, only space for excitement and joy.

What if I reacted to life storms in the same manner? How amazing it would be if whenever a trial or difficulty presented itself in my life, I reacted by being excited for an opportunity to draw closer to God. How it might warm God's heart if I were anxious to see how He was going to come through for me, how He was going to protect and carry me through the storm, instead of being anxious about the potential damage that might result from the storm.

"He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade on your right hand. The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore." ~Psalm 121:3-8, ESV

"You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock." ~Isaiah 26:3, 4, ESV

The Truth About Apathy

2012-01-21T00:18:00.006-05:00

Let me tell you the truth about apathy: it hurts. Deeper than hatred, it wounds the heart.

It's been a while since I recognized this truth, and I've processed and worked through my thoughts and feelings on this matter. So now I'm sharing them with you because I caught a small glimpse of the heart of God, and I want you to see it too.

A while ago, I was really struggling in one of my friendships. I was really upset because I valued this friendship, and I felt like my friend had become completely indifferent towards me. It seemed like no matter how much I tried to be friendly, they didn't care. In fact, in my mind, it began to seem like the more friendly I was, the more apathetic they became. This quickly turned into a very discouraging situation. I cried, I prayed, I racked my brain for answers. Finally, I realized that I couldn't keep doing it; I was not going to force my friendship somewhere it was not wanted. So, I backed off. And silently mourned the loss of a friendship that I still don't really have any hope of recovering.

My friend's apathy towards me was worse than hatred, because hatred at least requires a person to feel like you're worth spending their emotional energy on; indifference breeds a feeling of worthlessness because they don't even care enough to hate you. In addition, anger is likely to subside one day; it comes back again and again, flaunting its pain in your face until you deal with it. But apathy nestles quietly somewhere deep in the recesses of a heart where it is not likely to be disturbed again.

Somewhere in the midst of all of this emotional turmoil, I remember pouring my heart out to God. I told Him exactly how I felt. I told Him how hurt I was to lose a friend, one that I still cared about a lot. I told Him how their apathy made me feel, how it wounded my heart. And then it struck me. God gets that. He knows that feeling-- a billion times over. How many days of Earth's existence has God, who by definition is love, had to deal with the indifference of millions of His very own Creation? How often has God extended His love to us, not willing to force His love, but waiting with baited breath to see if we would accept His offer of friendship? How often has God backed off, mourning the loss of His Love and hoping that the day might come when we would change our minds? How deeply have we wounded His heart with our apathetic acknowledgment of His existence while we choose to invest our time and emotions in transitory endeavors?

Let me tell you the truth about apathy: it hurts. Deeper than hatred, it wounds the heart.

“‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. . . Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.'" ~Revelation 3:15, 16, 20, ESV

Pilgrims

2012-01-11T03:17:00.002-05:00

"What might it not mean for others if all of us who are seeking after a country of our own, a better Country, that is, a heavenly, lived more like pilgrims here?" ~Gold Cord: The Story of a Fellowship by Amy Carmichael

Have you ever traveled to a foreign country? Have you spent any length of time there? If you have, you will understand what I'm about to write.

No matter how much time you spend in a foreign country, no matter how familiar you become with their food, their mindset, their language, or their sayings, it is always quite obvious that you do not belong. You look different. You have a different worldview. Your values, the things that are important to you, the way you see life are all different. You are from a different culture, and theirs will always be foreign to you. Theirs is not your heritage. You may come close to feeling like you fit in. You may even begin to identify with their culture; in fact, you may begin to feel like you're trapped somewhere in between their culture and your own. But their culture is still not completely your own.

What if we as Christians really lived as if this world were not our home? What if we were so wrapped up in our heavenly home culture, so identified by it that it would become quite obvious to anyone we would meet on Earth that we do not belong here in this worldly culture-- that it is not our own? What would life look like if this Earthly culture were always foreign to us? What kind of difference could we make in this world if we lived more like pilgrims here and less like natives?

All Came to Pass

2012-01-04T08:21:00.003-05:00

And the Lord gave them rest on every side just as he had sworn to their fathers. Not one of all their enemies had withstood them, for the Lord had given all their enemies into their hands. Not one word of all the good promises that the Lord had made to the house of Israel had failed; all came to pass. ~Joshua 21:44, 45

Reminders of God's faithfulness and goodness are always welcome. What an amazing one for the start of a new year. May I remember this year that God's promises, His Word, never fails. All that He has said will come to pass.

And one day we will have rest from this weary world, just as He has promised.

Providence

2011-12-28T11:58:00.012-05:00

God is good. I love that He likes to give us small blessings as well as large ones, and I love to see how He orchestrates and impresses upon our hearts little things.

Very early Christmas morning I made a long drive from Cookeville to Chattanooga to go to work. As I stopped at a red light, I noticed a man on the street corner selling Sunday newspapers. I've seen him there before; in fact, I'm pretty sure he's been there every Sunday morning that I can remember passing by that corner. And he's there early, because I usually pass by around 6:10 AM. I looked at him and suddenly felt ashamed. There I was about to go to a job that I love, that is a huge blessing to me, and that pays enough to fill my needs and more, and I was a little bit resentful that I had to do it on Christmas day. And there he was, cold, up early on Christmas morning trying to sell newspapers to people who mostly didn't want to give him the time of day.

Whenever I see people selling things on street corners, I feel compelled to give them something. And I have told God many times before that any time I'm in a situation like that, if it is possible, I will stop and give them something. Providentially, the light had just turned red as I was coming up to it, so I knew I had the time, and I was glad for the opportunity. I don't really read newspapers, though I probably should, but I thought at least I could use it for fire starter in our fireplace at home. However, God had a little something more in mind than fire starter.

I rolled down my window, gave him what cash I had with me, and wished him a Merry Christmas. I threw the newspaper on the floor of the seat next to me, and didn't have a chance to look at it again until that night. I noticed a picture of a small child on the front page and thought it curious, but I didn't have time to read the article until this morning.

When I read it this morning, I discovered it was an article about a baby who was once a patient in the NICU that I work in. I was blessed as I read, and I was reminded once again of why I do what I do. I was reminded of why I chose to be a nurse, and the reminder couldn't have come at a better time because

this past week has been one of the most stressful and difficult weeks I've had in the NICU since I started in September. God is good. More than I can express in words. And I am ever so thankful of His love and care for me.

Kaddish

2011-12-04T21:20:00.002-05:00

The righteous man perishes, and no one lays it to heart; devout men are taken away, while no one understands. For the righteous man is taken away from calamity; he enters into peace; they rest in their beds who walk in their uprightness. ~Isaiah 57:1,2 (ESV)

I called my mother on my way home from a fairly awful day at work, only to hear her crying. When asked what was wrong, she tearfully explained to me that less than an hour before my calling, Melvin Sanborn had died. The tears came instantly though her words did not fully register immediately.

Mr. Sanborn was an incredible man of God. We grew up living down the street from him and his wife, Marjorie, who was one of the warmest people I've known. I loved them both. So much. Mrs. Sanborn was a greeter at our church for as long as I can remember, and she was the main reason our church had its reputation for being one of the friendliest, most welcoming churches ever. Mr. Sanborn built our church. With some help, of course; but he was at the forefront of planning and laboring over the house of God that replaced our gymnasium worship center. He used to read the Bible through every year, and in the past several years, he began to read it through in different versions. More than that, both Mr. and Mrs. Sanborn had been special to me. I distinctly remember when I was very small going down the street to spend time with them at their house. One year, Mrs. Sanborn gave me four giant teddy bears to play with; they were my favorites for several years and received much love and play time. In more recent years, Mr. Sanborn was always a friendly, familiar face when I would go home to visit my home church. He always had a ready hug and wanted to hear what I was up to in life. He reminded me a lot of my grandfather.

Mrs. Sanborn died a year ago in November, and my heart broke then for all the people, including myself, who would miss her warm smile and even warmer Sabbath hugs. And tonight another one of God's bright lights has entered into a peaceful rest. And tonight my heart breaks again. For Mr. Sanborn's family and friends who will miss him dearly while we anxiously await the joy that will come with the morning of God's return.

__________________________

I thought it fitting also to share this section from a book I really enjoy. This particular excerpt is from a chapter on Jewish mourning rituals and more specifically, the Mourner's Kaddish (prayer).

"Not only is the community present for one's mourning, God is present too. God is ubiquitous in Jewish bereavement because of the Kaddish. Countless commentators have observed that the Kaddish is a curious mourner's prayer, because it says nothing about mourning. It is rather a prayer about God, describing Him as magnified and sanctified and worthy to be praised. It is not a prayer of rent garments and commemoration, but rather simply four verses of praise to God. 'Blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled, mighty, upraised, and lauded be the Name of the Holy One. Blessed is He, beyond any blessing or song.' As one mourner noted, the Kaddish is really 'a Gloria.' Even in the pit, even in depression and loss and nonsense, still we respond to God with praise. This is not to say that the mourner should not feel what he feels-- anger, disbelief, hatred. He can feel those things (and shout them out to God; God can take it). You do not have to feel praise in the intense moments of mourning, but the praise is still true, and insisting upon it over and over, twice a day every day, ensures that eventually you will come to remember the truth of those praises." ~Lauren F. Winner, Mudhouse Sabbath

יָדַע

2011-11-25T23:47:00.006-05:00

Tonight has been a full night. Full of blessings and warmth. Full of thoughts in varying stages of completeness. Full of Presence. Full of Love.

As I was sitting by the fireplace watching flames dance over logs my mind was lost in a reverie, an ocean of contemplation.

I am going to be more vulnerable than I often allow myself to be. I have an intense desire to be known, to be understood. I desperately want someone to want to search my mind and truly know and understand the depths of my heart. I want somebody to desire to figure me out, and I want him to succeed. And I want him to love me for what he sees and knows about my heart and my mind.

As I sat by the fire tonight, my mind whirling with a plethora of deep thoughts, I felt this desire very strongly. I thought silently, "I wish I could tell someone all of these thoughts and be understood." And almost instantly I was overwhelmed by the thought of having to express each of those ideas, those incomplete impressions that even I was struggling to process fully in my own mind. I had hardly finished being overwhelmed by imagining trying to convey the meaning of my mind's contents when another thought presented itself: "I know your thoughts. I have searched you, and I know your heart."

Immediately, I was comforted. I don't even have to search for the proper combination and order of words to truly express what's in my heart and on my mind; God knows. Really knows. And understands. He has me figured out. And I am loved for what He sees and knows about my heart and mind. And somehow in that moment of realization, I felt closer to God and more deeply loved than I've consciously felt in quite some time.

Perhaps I may share my thoughts with someone someday. Maybe I won't. But regardless, I am content to be known by Someone.

Perfectly Square Rocks

2011-10-24T13:08:00.005-04:00

http://www.byronjorjorian.com/detail/4960.html

One Sabbath afternoon not too long ago, I overheard a conversation between two of my friends, and it intrigued me. A group of us had decided to go hiking at Laurel Falls, but some of us needed to be back home earlier than others. Our group split, and while the majority of our fellow hikers went up to the falls, the rest of us played and hiked down among the large rocks in the stream.

I was sitting with Allana, Margie, and Heather on one such large rock while Ivan was skipping rocks, throwing big stones in the water, and just generally being a guy. Then Ivan came and showed us a great find-- a very large flat rock, which he then proceeded to throw in the water after each of us had commented on how much we liked it. A few minutes later, Ivan returned again with another large, flat rectangular rock.

"Do you like my rock?" he asked as he showed it off to each of us.

While he was preoccupied, Allana turned to me and said jokingly, "We'd better not tell him that we like it or else he just might toss it into the water as well."

And so Allana feigned indifference toward the rock. Ivan was a little dismayed.

"What's wrong with my rock, Allana? Why don't you like it?"

"Well, I don't know what's so great about it," she answered apathetically.

"What's not great about it? It's a perfectly square rock!" Ivan exclaimed exultantly.

We all laughed, and Allana replied, "There's nothing square about it! How can you say it's a perfect square?"

Ivan was quick to defend his find. "Well, it's an awful lot better and more square than all the rest of these rocks!"

The banter continued for a while until we moved on to other amusements. But Allana's and Ivan's discussion got me thinking. It was quite clear to all of us that the rock was not, as Ivan had claimed, anywhere close to a perfect square. Even his defense admitted that fact.

Sometimes I think we present our plans and designs to God the same way that Ivan presented his rock to Allana. We tell Him how great it will be if things will just work out the way we've planned, and when God says no to our plans, we're so quick, whether by words or by actions, to defend our schemes.

"What's not to like about it? It's a perfect plan!" we complain to God. And even when we're honest enough with ourselves to admit the obvious flaws, we still try to sell God on the point that it's a much better plan than any other that we can see at the moment.

But that's just it-- God sees so much more than we do. And while our designs may seem like the closest thing to perfect we can imagine, God sees the true perfectly square rocks that are hidden from our sight.

"Trust in the Lord, and do good; dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness. Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act. He will bring forth your righteousness as the light, and your justice as the noonday. Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him." Psalm 37:4-7a, ESV

"For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly. O Lord of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you!" Psalm 84:11, 12, ESV

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord, and turn away from evil." Proverbs 3:5-7, ESV

Musings: Light and Darkness

2011-10-22T22:26:00.001-04:00

God has been teaching me so many neat little lessons and giving me so many small glimpses into His love lately. And I want to write about them all, but it's late, and I must work tomorrow morning. So I will just write a short thought that most recently presented itself to me.

My housemates all left to go various places toward the end of this past week. One went to North Carolina for a funeral, and the other two went backpacking. I stayed home (like the second little piggy) so that I could go to work. Friday evening when I came home from work, the house was completely dark and forlorn. It was really discouraging, especially because it was Sabbath, and I felt like coming home at the end of a long week to enjoy Sabbath should have been more comforting than empty.

As I walked through the house, I began turning on lights. This is amusing to me because one of my greatest pet peeves since coming back from Africa is wasted electricity and lights left on that aren't being used. But nevertheless, I turned on several many lights in our house. Somehow it made the house seem less empty.

I began to ponder this phenomenon because it seemed curious to me. I then made a connection in my mind. In the Bible God is often symbolized by light. In fact, during the time that the Israelites were in the desert, God's Presence in the Sanctuary was manifested as a glorious light. And read this from Revelation 21:23-25:

"And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb. By its light will the nations walk, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it, and its gates will never be shut by day-- and there will be no night there."

And so I sat by myself in my empty house with many lights on, comforted by the symbol of God's Presence on the Sabbath. And as desolate as the darkness had seemed, so the light seemed full and un-lonely.

God's Chisel

2011-10-01T15:25:00.001-04:00

I found this video on my friend's page, and I found it particularly meaningful for me right now. I was especially struck by the discussion about control. Tommie says, "I'm just saying, You've done some great work, maybe we take a break, a sabbatical from each other, you know? I'll stay right here..." And God responds, "That's just it, you never just stay right there; you're either moving toward Me, or away from Me, but never you 'just stay'." So Tommie concedes and allows God to begin chiseling out the things that don't belong in his life. But then Tommie asks God, "But can we chisel where I want?" And God answers, "That's called control."

There are two things I relate to in that discussion. Recently I've realized that I keep praying for God to take control of my life, to lead me in His path, but all the while I'm pleading with Him to let my chosen path be His path. And that's not surrender. That's called control.

The other thing in that discussion on control that really resounded with me is when God says, "you're either moving toward me, or away from me." Sometimes, I get tired of God chiseling. Sometimes, I feel like I can't take any more refining at the moment, and I want to take a break. I want to just stay right here, rest awhile, and then God can start refining me again when I've regained my strength. But there is no staying right here, because to stay right here is to be moving away from God. And I don't need to regain my strength because God has promised to be my strength. In all His refining, when I feel like I can't stand any longer, when I feel like I can't take any more of the flame of God's holiness burning away the dross, He reminds me that if I would rely on Him, I wouldn't have to stand for myself; He will be my sustaining power as He chisels away everything that keeps me from reflecting the image of God.

"Behold, I have refined you, but not as silver; I have tried you in the furnace of affliction. For my own sake, for my own sake, I do it, for how should my name be profaned? My glory I will not give to another." Isaiah 48:10, 11 (ESV)

Disconnect

2011-09-22T22:03:00.000-04:00

Tonight at Bible study, we read Chapter 4 of Acts of the Apostles. It's about the Pentecost and the power of the Holy Spirit. In one of the closing paragraphs, Ellen White says this of the disciples:

"No longer was it a matter of faith with them that Christ was the Son of God. They knew that, although clothed with humanity, He was indeed the Messiah, and they told their experience to the world with a confidence which carried with it the conviction that God was with them." Acts of the Apostles, p. 46

Christ's divinity, authority, and power to save was no longer a mere belief-- a vague idea in their heads that couldn't fully be explained; instead it was fact. Not only was it fact, but it was a certainty that changed their lives, their daily actions.

God keeps bringing things to my attention that make me realize that somewhere, somehow there is a disconnect in my own and many other Christians' minds. Somehow God is not as real to me as He ought to be. If He were, it would be impossible for me to doubt His power, and it would be impossible for me to distrust His love and the goodness of His plans for me. Because if God were as real to me as He ought to be, His love and power would be a fact that would change my life, my daily actions.

Somehow the things which are seen, the things of this world, have become more real to us than our heavenly home (of which we are true citizens) and the God of love who dwells there. I know this because if God were more real to us, we would live our lives as if nothing else in the world matters as much as He does.

"By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God." Hebrews 11:8-10

"These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city." Hebrews 11:13-16

"So we do not lose heart. . . as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:16, 18

"But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ" Philippians 3:20

Wholehearted Commitment

2011-09-19T10:48:00.003-04:00

Well friends... As some of you know, I preached a sermon this past weekend. I really believe God blessed, and I hope that the point got across. I am not the world's most dynamic speaker, and the sermon probably could have gone a little better, but what's done is done. I just pray that somehow God used the words He put on my heart to touch someone else's.

Here it is if you want to listen/download it. It's called Wholehearted Commitment. It's about 30 minutes long, so plan accordingly :)

While I'm Waiting

2011-08-22T12:23:00.004-04:00

"In hope [Abraham] believed against hope, that he should become the father of many nations, as he had been told, 'So shall your offspring be.'

"He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was as good as dead (since he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah's womb.

"No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised."

~Romans 4:18-21

Abraham chose to trust in God's Word more than he trusted the evidence before his eyes; he chose to lean not on his own understanding, but to trust in God with all of his heart. Abraham made this choice because the unseen God was more real to him than the things which are seen.

It is also interesting to note that Abraham's faith grew strong "as he gave glory to God." Abraham gave glory to God-- praised Him for His goodness, thanked Him for His blessings, and attributed his success to God-- all while waiting in earnest hope for God's promise to be realized. This was what strengthened Abraham's faith, his trust in God-- thanking and praising God for the gifts of the present while waiting for the promise of the future.

May God grant me the strength to praise Him for His goodness and thank Him for His blessings today that I may strengthen my trust to believe in His promises for my future.

While I'm Waiting

Steady as the Seasons (Turning Over New Leaves)

2011-08-15T22:43:00.003-04:00

The winds are changing--

A bitter wind blowing in and

Rearranging everything certain.

And with this descent of

Another Autumn

A million leaves have scattered

To mask the familiar.

But in time the winds will be changing--

A fresh wind bringing new

Life to the uncertain.

And with the rise of

A novel Spring

A million leaves will flourish

To paint the unfamiliar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can't decide if I like this or not. I'll read it through once and feel like it captures what I'm feeling almost perfectly. Then I'll re-read it and decide that I really ought to give up all attempts at poetry because I only ever disappoint myself. I feel like when I write, I'm always on the very brink of something deeply profound, and yet somehow I've missed the boat completely. Maybe someday I'll come back to it and make some changes. Maybe I won't.

In any case, it seems hopeful. And hope is what I'm clinging to these days.

What I Live For

2011-06-15T08:54:00.004-04:00

This happened a while back, but I'm just now getting around to writing about it. I know I haven't been a terribly faithful blogger in the last year or so...

Sometimes when I go to work, I wonder why I'm there. I wonder how on earth God can use me when all I'm doing is sticking people with needles and changing dressings on central lines. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. But sometimes I wonder how much purpose I have. Then, I meet patients like her.

I was orienting someone new to our IV team. It was evening shift, and I was feeling like I was just about at the end of my patience. The person I was orienting (we'll call her Felicia) was having a hard time. I was explaining things over and over, and they were just not getting through. So Felicia and I were called to a room to access a port-a-cath, which she had done before with another IV team member (click here and scroll down a bit if you care to know more about port-a-caths and how they're accessed). Outside of the patient's room, I reviewed her on all of the supplies we would need because it's hard to remember it all sometimes. I walked her through the process before we went in, and I hoped it would go well.

The patient (we'll call her Mrs. Ashwood) had asked for her port-a-cath needle to be changed because someone had used a really long needle, and it was sticking too far out of her skin. She was afraid she might bump it on something in the night. As we talked to her, we discovered that several IV team members had tried to access it the day before, and it took multiple attempts. My heart sank. I didn't really want to let Felicia try, but I asked Mrs. Ashwood if it would be alright if she did it while I supervised. She said she didn't mind at all.

Felicia got out her equipment, and very soon after beginning, contaminated her sterile gloves without realizing it. I stopped her, gave her some new gloves, and the process continued. To make a long story shorter, Felicia missed on the first try, but Mrs. Ashwood said she was ok with Felicia trying again. So we trotted off to get more supplies, and I made use of the time to coach Felicia some more. My patience was wearing even thinner, and I really just wanted to access the port myself, but I knew that Felicia needed to try again.

When we returned to Mrs. Ashwood's room, I began talking with her while Felicia got her things ready. She began to open up to me about why she was in the hospital and what she was going through. She had cancer. It had been gone for a while, but just recently they thought they had seen some spots on her liver. The doctors had gone back and forth between being certain it was nothing and telling her that it was a metastasis of her old cancer. Finally, they decided that she had advanced mets cancer in her liver and elsewhere. She was having to make decisions about whether or not to undergo more treatments and which doctors or hospital to go to. She confessed that she wasn't even sure if it was worth it because her prognosis was not good. As she spoke to me, I listened and also told her a little bit about my grandfather and what he had gone through when he had cancer. I nearly began to cry as I talked to her because I realized how similar their stories were.

As Felicia and I finished what we needed to do-- nearly an hour later-- I felt impressed to pray with her. I asked Mrs. Ashwood if that would be alright, and she said she would love that. So I prayed. For peace, for wisdom, but most of all for God's Presence and comfort. When I finished she was crying. She told me that she and her husband had been missionaries for 12 years, and we talked about missions and life in other countries. By the time I left the room, I was nearly in tears. I was amazed at her attitude and positive spirit, and I had told her so when I was in the room. And I was humbled that God had seen fit for us to be in her room long enough for me to be able to help her find comfort and peace in God's hands. It was a good reminder for me that God still knows what He's doing-- even when I'm frustrated and impatient.

Experiences like this are the ones I live for.

Mining, Chemical Equations, and Other Things

2011-05-12T11:09:00.000-04:00

I've got a lot on my mind right now. I suppose that's nothing new, but at this very moment, I'm feeling rather flooded with too many thoughts. So please forgive the overflow here; I just need an outlet. And please forgive any randomness or incompleteness of thought.

I don't know a lot about mining for gems, but I have an idea that it's a difficult process. It takes a lot of pressure, tedious work, and maybe even involves a lot of what seems to be excess waste. But somewhere under all the dirt and lava rock layers lies something of great value. Great value. And beauty. And it's worth all the tedious work, all the pressure, all the removal of the unvaluable to find the invaluable. All of these things I know. I have no doubts regarding the value or the fact that it will require great effort to reach the end result of beauty and worth. I have no doubt that it's worth the trouble. But the thought that's running around in my mind at the moment is, how can you be certain there's a gem beneath it all? What if all the work and pressure is being spent on an ordinary rock? And how can you tell the difference between an ordinary rock and a gem without all the work and pressure-- from the outside surface? How do you determine when or if the process should be abandoned? What if you might be about to abandon a real gem? What if you walk away from something of great worth and beauty?

Switching gears, but still related. I love balancing chemical equations. I know, I'm a little bit nerdy. But it's fun; it's a puzzle. Just like scheduling. But that's another topic for another day. In chemical equations, the combination of two or more elements produces something. And on both sides of the equation, everything has to balance out; you can't have more or less than what you started with (in terms of matter) when all is said and done. You have to have the same number of hydrogen/sodium/whatever ions pre-reaction and post-reaction. To me, life doesn't always seem to work like this. Sometimes I wonder as I'm trying to balance on both sides of the equation if maybe I'm coming up one hydrogen short. Everything seems to balance out so well, except for that one little hydrogen ion that seems to be missing. Maybe the problem is me. Maybe I'm just not seeing it; maybe I'm overlooking it. And then I begin to wonder, how important is chemistry in life anyway?

Unrelated now. I came across a profound verse in Exodus yesterday in my devotions. It really deserves a blog post all its own, but for now... here it is.

God saw the people of Israel-- and God knew. Exodus 2:25

This particular verse is referring to the Israelites crying out to God in the oppression of slavery under Egyptian rule. But it really struck me. God saw and God knew. Immediately it called to mind Hagar and Ishmael.

The angel of the Lord found her by a spring of water in the wilderness, the spring on the way to Shur. And he said, 'Hagar, servant of Sarai, where have you come from and where are you going?' She said, 'I am fleeing from my mistress Sarai.'

And the angel of the Lord said to her, 'Behold, you are pregnant and shall bear a son. You shall call his name Ishmael, because the Lord has listened to your affliction.'

So she called the name of the Lord who spoke to her, 'You are a God of seeing,' for she said, 'Truly here I have seen him who looks after me.' Therefore the well was called Beer-lahairoi.

Exodus 16:7, 8, 11, 13, 14

Ishmael means "God hears." And Beer-lahairoi means "the well of the Living One who sees me."

God saw and God knew. In Hagar's utter despair, as she is about to give up, she is reassured that God, the Living One, sees her. He knows her affliction, He knows her despair; He sees it.

Back to the verse in Exodus 2:25 and its context. Just after that verse, God appears to Moses in the burning bush. Just after that verse, God moves. He sees, He knows, and then, He moves, working on our behalf. Because He is the Great God Who Saves.

Maybe it's not so unrelated after all.

Don't Sit Still

2011-04-14T15:25:00.003-04:00

I promise I'm going to write something original soon. Really. But until then... This is a really neat article. What a revolutionary idea- to stop squelching children's innate needs to move.

And Then

2011-01-23T08:29:00.003-05:00

there was hope.

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem!
Behold, your king is coming to you;
righteous and having salvation is he,
humble and mounted on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

As for you also, because of the blood of my covenant with you,
I will set your prisoners free from the waterless pit.
Return to your stronghold, O prisoners of hope;
today I declare that I will restore to you double.

On that day the LORD their God will save them,
as the flock of his people;
for like the jewels of a crown
they shall shine on his land.
For how great is his goodness, and how great his beauty!

Zechariah 9:9, 11, 12, 16, 17a; ESV

God Still Is

2011-01-18T11:48:00.001-05:00

The last two days at work were rough. Really rough. Not because I don't love what I do, and not because of my co-workers, but rather for what I have seen. For what I have seen has made my heart ache in a way that it has not ached since I was in Africa.

When I was in Tchad, every day brought more suffering into my scope of awareness. Granted, my time in Tchad was not solely filled with sorrow and suffering; there was joy, too. But my eyes were opened to the pain and suffering around me in the listless eyes of those too exhausted to weep anymore, in the mother's sobs over the death of her child, in the harsh cruelty of a desert land. And I think that I had forgotten, in part, that sorrow and despair are not confined to foreign lands.

The last two days at work, I was assigned to check IVs on several floors, including the hospice unit and the oncology (cancer) floor. I don't know if I had just been blind and my eyes were finally re-opened in the last two days, or if there has just been a sudden increase in the amount of suffering recently, but whatever the case, I was made more aware of the pain and suffering that exists all around me.

One man was sleeping-- peacefully, it seemed. His daughter was outside the room on the phone, and I overheard her in a strained voice explaining to another family member what the doctors had told her. "He only has a few more weeks at most. So right now we're just trying to keep him comfortable. They said that as time goes on, he will just start sleeping more and more..." Her voice trailed off.

On Sunday, I had changed out an old IV for an elderly woman on hospice unit who was very much still with it. She had many family members in the room, and she talked back and forth with each of them. Monday, I walked in to check her IV, and the family members were still there, chatting with each other while she lay in bed, awake, but with eyes closed from tiredness. A tiredness that seemed less like a tiredness from lack of sleep and more like a tiredness of fighting.

I had greeted a man on Sunday in hospice and asked, "How are you doing today?" "Oh, pretty good, pretty good," he had replied with a polite smile. I chatted for a minute and commented on the sunshine coming into his large window. Monday morning, I asked again, in cheerful tones, "How are you today?" His reply was as discouraging as the grey sky outside the window. "Not very well today. I'm worried sick about my wife. She's here in the hospital too, and I can't seem to get a hold of her." We talked a bit, and I gave him some advice on how he might get in touch with his wife. I tried to remain cheerful as I bid him goodbye.

The next room on hospice was an even sharper blow to my heart. An older man, a mere skeleton of himself, sat in bed with hollow eyes that remained completely unpenetrated by my cheery, upbeat demeanor. He responded to my questions, but I felt like I was interacting with a shadow of a man rather than a real human. I can't hardly explain what it was in his eyes and voice that struck me so deeply, except to say that where life should have been, an apathy devoid of hope had settled in.

But what really pierced my heart was seeing a dear friend of mine in the hospital. It's like a nightmare really. To see someone your own age very ill and fatigued. It made me realize once again that Satan is no respecter of persons. Evil has no regard for age, innocence, or character and attacks indiscriminately and brutally.

I can't tell you how many times I came close to crying at work yesterday because I lost count. But in the solitude of my car on my way home, I listened to a song of home-- heaven-- and cried. I can't remember the last time my heart ached so badly to be home, to be rid of the seemingly endless pain and sorrow caused by the absence of Love-- the presence of Satan and sin.

Somehow, through all that happened, I was really beginning to feel that God was very far away. But when I got home, I saw something posted by a friend, and it reminded me that despite all the suffering and pain, God still is. And in the end, Love wins. Here's the full poem:

Christmas Bells by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till, ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The Carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
'There is no peace on earth,' I said;
'For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!'

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
'God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!'

Footprints in the Snow (A Snapshot of My Heart)

2010-12-21T10:08:00.003-05:00

Before me lies a dismal scene—
Barren trees,
Muddied fields (with splotched patches of green),
and a cold, gray sky.

Raising my eyes heavenward
I wonder at my ability
To make such a mess of
Your Creation.

With upturned face,
Eyes closed,
and a whispered prayer,
Hope rises.

As light greets my opening eyes
Thick, heavy snowflakes
Fall with grace
To cover over this dead, wintry soul.

Before me lies a new scene—
Elegant, snow-covered trees,
A pure, white blanket,
and a bright, clear sky.

Raising my eyes heavenward
I wonder at Your ability
To make such beauty in
Your Creation.

And with gratitude and love,
I walk forward in grace
Leaving only footprints in the snow.

Thanksgiving

2010-12-03T10:23:00.003-05:00

(Late, I know...)

A few days before Thanksgiving, I was lying in bed thinking about Thanksgiving. I had been super busy with work and hadn't really had any time at all to realize that Thanksgiving was almost upon me and I hadn't taken much time to enjoy the season of gratitude. This was a tragedy that needed rectifying, and so I lay awake and took a little time for reflection.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Usually it's hard for me to pick a favorite something because there is much weighing of pros and cons and difficulty deciding which pros are actually more weighty and deserve to be considered "best." But really, Thanksgiving is it for me-- my favorite. This is true for several reasons. First, because when I was growing up, Thanksgiving meant family. We always had a giant family reunion at Thanksgiving, and I love and crave time with people I love. Also, Thanksgiving foods are some of my favorite foods, especially pumpkin pie. And there is something so inviting about the colors and scents associated with autumn and Thanksgiving; they seem warm and welcoming at a time when the outside world is dull, chilly, and fast becoming lifeless. (Yes, Margie, I did just refer to autumn as inviting and warm. And I do like it...)

But most of all, I love Thanksgiving because it puts my heart in a spirit of gratitude that I don't have often enough. As I was lying in bed, I began to pray a prayer of thanks to God because I realized how incredibly blessed I am. I have two jobs that I absolutely love in a time when some have difficulty finding one job they may not really like. I have a family by whom I am deeply loved and cherished. God has blessed me with the most phenomenal friends; friends who have supported and encouraged me, drawing me closer to God through their words and the lives they live, and I know I am unworthy of such friends. Fairly recently, God has brought into my life an amazingly talented and considerate boyfriend who desires to live for and serve God. My physical needs have been more than met, and I want for nothing. In the past two years, I have seen God work in my life and the lives of others more times than I can count and in unquantifiable ways. Having my eyes opened in such a way has strengthened my faith and made God more real to me than He has ever been before. I am richly, abundantly blessed beyond what I ever could have asked.

But as I lay awake in bed thinking about all of these blessings in my life, I realized that as happy as each of these blessings have made me, they are not ultimately what I am grateful for. Because as I lay awake in bed reflecting on the physical blessings in my life, my mind was turned to the Source of those blessings. He is what I am most grateful for; not because of the good gifts and blessings He has showered me with, but because He is the Source of goodness, life, abundance, and genuine, deep joy.

May this spirit of gratitude remain in my heart. May my life be one of thanks giving in all seasons.

Don't Forget...

2010-11-20T16:26:00.003-05:00

The other day at work I was doing floor checks, which mostly consists of walking room to room, checking IVs to make sure they're still good, and sometimes doing some minor "patient education." I walked into one room where a very elderly lady was sitting up in bed. Her daughter and granddaughter were keeping her company.

After checking her IV, I said, "If your IV ever starts to hurt, just let your nurse know right away."

Her face became quite animated, and she exclaimed to her granddaughter, "You'd better write that down, or else I might forget!"

Doors and Windows

2010-11-20T16:16:00.002-05:00

There's a saying-- God never closes a door without opening a window. I was thinking about it the other day, and I've decided that maybe we've got it all wrong. Maybe God closes the windows we've been desperately trying to clamber in so that we can see the open door.

Just a thought on perspective.

Tennessee

2010-09-21T13:22:00.005-04:00

It is finally official. I am... a Tennessean. I have mixed feelings about this. I think I will always remain sentimentally attached to Virginia, and I will more than likely still proudly claim Virginia as my home state.

I must say, there are worse places than Tennessee to belong to, however. And so, thus begins a new chapter.

God alone knows how long I'll be here. And I think I'm glad of that.

Lost Dreams and False Prophecies

2010-08-14T03:26:00.003-04:00

You do not exist,
Except as a past memory
Of a future hope.

For presently,
You are not
Who I imagined you to be,
Nor are you
The man you once were.

So I must conclude
That you
Do not exist.

Three in One

2010-07-18T00:37:00.003-04:00

So to make up for my lengthy absence from blogger, I am posting three in one night.

Getting back into work has been nice in some ways. I was quite honestly terrified that after being gone for 3 weeks, I might not remember how to stick people. Praise God that turned out not to be the case. Anyway, I've had some really odd, random things happen at work recently, so I thought I'd share. For amusement's sake.

Many of the patients I see are fairly friendly people. The other night topped all though. I had just finished fixing a patient's IV so that I didn't have to stick her again (she had just been stuck a few hours ago). As I was getting ready to walk out the door, one of her family members called me back and started thanking me, and before I knew it had engulfed me in a hug. I stood slightly in shock, and when she let go, she fixed the tag on my scrub shirt. It was a nice gesture for her to thank me in such a way, but I'm afraid I'm not much for hugging complete strangers. The audacity of some people never ceases to amaze me.

Another night, I was walking down the hallway back from the ER or admissions unit when a man asked me how I was doing. "Oh, I'm good," I replied with a smile. "How are you doing?" He paused for a moment to consider my question, then, "I'm tall, dark, and handsome," was his completely serious reply. "Oh...." I stammered, and not knowing what to say in response, I continued on my way. The really funny thing is that he was really only about an inch taller than myself.

The final odd occurrence happened tonight. I was sitting in the office, and the phone rang. "IV office, this is Kristin," I answered. "Is this the morgue?" a voice asked in confusion. "Ummm, no..." She then asked, "Well what is it then?" So I told her again that it was the IV team office at the hospital. She then abruptly hung up, apparently displeased.

Who knows what adventures await me next week...

Shame on Me

2010-07-18T00:34:00.002-04:00

I’ve been struggling with God a lot lately. For the two weeks that I just recently spent at Camp Cherokee, I had been wrestling with God. I knew in my head that God is good, that God is love, but my heart was questioning that knowledge. I think that it’s good to question God now and then because God always proves Himself true, and our faith comes out stronger on the other side.

I won’t go into detail about the specifics of why I was questioning God, but some of the questions I was asking involved whether or not God was holding out on me, whether or not He was really mighty to save anyone, whether or not He was putting to use all of His influence, all of His resources, to reach the people I love. I don’t know, maybe that sounds ridiculous to you. But I’ve grown so tired in my heart of watching people I love ruin their lives. I’ve exhausted my emotions agonizing over the emptiness I see in their lives when I know full well why they are so empty. And I’ve grown weary of praying for them and not seeing any results. In my weariness, I began to wonder if maybe God had given up; maybe they were beyond His reach, maybe they had rejected Him to the point that He would no longer spend His Holy Spirit in trying to win their hearts. Was God really love? Were God’s intentions really good? For me? For them?

While at camp, I came to a sort of peace, but I wasn’t truly, deeply at peace. I came to a point where I could see daybreak coming; it wasn’t yet arrived, but this present darkness would come to an end. Part of that peace came from reading Hebrews 10-12 and also 2 Timothy 2:11-13, which says, “Here is a trustworthy saying: If we died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him. If we disown him, he will also disown us; if we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot disown himself.” God who is love cannot be untrue to His own character.

Then on Sabbath I read something that was even more reassuring. I was reading in the Desire of Ages about the triumphal entry (p. 576). Ellen White talks about how Jesus paused at the crest of the hill above Jerusalem and began to sob bitterly. She says,

The tears of Jesus were not in anticipation of His own suffering. Just before Him was Gethsemane, where soon the horror of a great darkness would overshadow Him. The sheepgate also was in sight, through which for centuries the beasts for sacrificial offerings had been led. This gate was soon to open for Him, the great Antitype, toward whose sacrifice for the sins of the world all these offerings had pointed. Near by was Calvary, the scene of His approaching agony. Yet it was not because of these reminders of His cruel death that the Redeemer wept and groaned in anguish of spirit. His was no selfish sorrow. The thought of His own agony did not intimidate that noble, self-sacrificing soul. It was the sight of Jerusalem that pierced the heart of Jesus—Jerusalem that had rejected the Son of God and scorned His love, that refused to be convinced by His mighty miracles, and was about to take His life. He saw what she was in her guilt of rejecting her Redeemer, and what she might have been had she accepted Him who alone could heal her wound. He had come to save her; how could He give her up?

Shame on me. Shame on me for entertaining the thought that my tears were more than those of Creator God himself, for imagining that my love runs deeper than God’s, who by definition is love.

In the face of separation, divorce, from God the Father—an unfathomable concept for all of heaven—Jesus wept in anguish not for His own pain, but for the loss of His earthly love. Shame on me for doubting. And praise God for His patient love and faithfulness.

Day Five: Sabbath in Berrien Springs

2010-07-18T00:10:00.007-04:00

From Holland, Michigan we made our way to Berrien Springs. I’m a little ashamed to admit that I was skeptical that Berrien Springs would be a terribly memorable and exciting experience on our road trip. Thankfully, my skepticism was quickly conquered.

We were planning to stay with Adelina, a friend of Beth-Anne’s brother, Jason, which was slightly unnerving for me because I had never met her, and I tend to be quite shy in situations where I’m not comfortable and don’t know people. That in itself was reason enough to be wary, but what really made me begin to withdraw into self-isolation was the fact that Adelina was hosting a Friday evening vespers for a bunch of her friends, an end of the year gathering for good friends. I felt rather out of place and extremely shy. So I found a good corner, stuck close to Beth-Anne and Emily, and tried to be unnoticeable. In hindsight, it was somewhat ridiculous for me to have imagined that I could go unnoticed as one of three unfamiliar faces in a small group setting of close friends.

Thankfully, everyone who had come to the vespers was extremely friendly and made efforts to talk to the three of us even though we were kind of crashing their party. At one point I had to laugh to myself because I thought of a conversation that my friend Alex and I have had a few times.

On several occasions Alex has teased me about the fact that I ought to move to Berrien Springs and hang out around the Seminary, seeing as I am a nice, Adventist nurse who happens to be single. Whenever Alex makes ridiculous comments along those lines I remind him that I am not qualified to be a pastor’s wife because I don’t play the piano. He then will often laugh and tell me that can be fixed.

Anyway, as I was sitting in my corner, I began to realize that the great majority of the people in the room were Seminary students. Shortly after I had come to the realization that I was a single nurse among many pastors, one of the guys there began talking to me. He asked what I did, and I told him I was a nurse. I kid you not, his very next question was, “Do you play the piano?” I had to hide my amusement as I informed him that I do not play the piano.

The rest of Friday night was really nice. After we ate, we began to sing songs. They even humored Beth-Anne, Emily, and me by singing from the hymnal. Then began the Bible study. I enjoyed a great deal of the conversation, but unfortunately, I was quite exhausted, and I’m afraid I fell asleep at some point. When I woke up there was a heated debate beginning about wealth. The debate became rather intense, too intense for my liking, but thankfully at the end of the study all was well and all were still friends.

Sabbath morning, Adelina set out a small feast for breakfast. After eating we headed off to Pioneer Memorial Church, which was really nice, and much smaller than I remembered. After church we walked around campus just to take a look, took a few pictures, and then made our way to a picnic spot for lunch with some of Adelina’s friends (a few of whom we had met at vespers). After lunch, we decided to go see some dunes, which I was really excited about.

I don’t recall which dunes we went to, but we hiked from the parking lot in over some sand to the shore, and then quickly spotted the highest dune we could find to climb. We left all our sandals at the bottom of the dune and began our ascent. At the time, this seemed an adventurous and brilliant plan—to climb the highest dune in bare feet; however, we grossly underestimated the sizzle factor of hot sun on sand.

I’m pretty sure that our record for number of steps we managed to take in a row before collapsing in pain on the ground was approximately 13. To say that the sand was hot would be like saying that Antarctica is chilly. I honestly felt like I was stepping on hot stove burners; I’m not exaggerating, really. We probably looked absolutely absurd because we would “run” ten or so steps up this super steep slope, turn around, and promptly sit down while trying to lift our blistering feet off the sand. After regaining our breath and bracing ourselves for the pain, we would repeat the cycle. Many cycles later, we finally made it to the top, from which point we would supposedly be able to see the Chicago shoreline (this turned out not to be the case as it was quite hazy). Thankfully, at the top of the dune there was some shady, cool sand where we gathered and enjoyed each other’s company. We also took some pictures. I must say that Beth-Anne is THE master self-timer picture taker of all time. She managed to hang her camera from a small tree branch, avert the swaying of the wind, and get everyone in the group shot in a mere two takes. She also successfully repeated this process when Jonathan, a latecomer, made it to the top and was saddened to hear that we had already taken the group photo.

Once mostly recovered from our trek up, we did the only thing there is to do once you’ve reached the top of the highest dune: run down with reckless abandon. It was exhilarating, and it lasted all of 45 seconds. Running down made every minute of the grueling hike up worth it. And once to the bottom of the dune, we headed for the ice-cold water to soothe our blistered feet. We walked in the water along the shoreline for a while, and once back to our belongings, we dove in the water. Swimming in Lake Michigan was very fun, but really, really cold. Immanuel decided he did not want to swim in the cold water, so the girls rather cleverly plotted against him. I felt like I was in high school again, helping them throw him in, but in all honesty, it was rather well planned, and he suspected nothing. Adelina asked to borrow his phone, while the rest of us pretended to be done with the cold water. A few of the girls started talking to him, while a few others snuck up behind him, and the rest you can imagine.

We ended our day at the dunes with a classic dune-jumping photo shoot, and then hopped in the car on to our last venture: Chicago.

Berrien Springs surprised me; I really expected it to be low-key and rather mundane, but it ended up being one of my favorite days of our road trip because of the wonderful fellowship we had and the great friends and memories we made.. But the people we met were really incredible people. They were super fun and so warm and welcoming.

Intermission

2010-06-20T22:01:00.002-04:00

I interrupt these road trip postings to bring you some amusement. This is mainly for those of you who are not facebook frequenters, and thus, would have missed an entertaining snippet of my life.

This morning at the hospital, I had a patient who was perhaps slightly confused. As I was starting an IV on her, she rather abruptly said, "Did you know it's a sin to cut your hair?"

Slightly surprised, and also quite curious to know what verse she had interpreted to mean that, I asked her where in the Bible that was found.

"Oh, somewhere in First Paul, or... well, if you read through the New Testament, you'll find it there somewhere." She then continued to educate me in spiritual matters, first relating that it's actually a sin for men to have long hair and a sin for women to cut their hair (to clarify). She went on to tell me about her encounters with the Holy Spirit, greeting fellows with a holy kiss (and the opposition she met to that practice), and other such matters. All in approximately 7 minutes.

I laugh at this, and I hope you have too. However, in a way, it's kind of sad to me too. First, it's sad that her mind is no longer as sound as God created it to be. But it's also somewhat of a rebuke to me to think that she has absolutely no inhibitions to sharing her faith and spiritual life with me-- a complete stranger-- and I can't remember the last time I truly shared my faith and spiritual life with a stranger. Not that her way is the way that I ought to go about it, but it made me pause to reflect. What am I so ashamed of? Why can't I seem to let go of my inhibitions and share God with others?

Day Four: Kalamazoo and Holland

2010-06-17T11:54:00.005-04:00

Unfortunately, the sights of Kalamazoo are rather few. Our first object was to discover where we could find shirts that said Kalamazoo on them—again, because we thought it sounded so fun.

We asked a few of the people at the hotel for tips on things to see in Kalamazoo and a place to find t-shirts, and the reactions were mostly similar; a small smile would come across their faces, amused that anyone would come to little Kalamazoo for sight seeing. We finally decided we would go to the Kalamazoo College (better known as K-College) to look for t-shirts, and then we would head to the Air Zoo.

The t-shirts available at the college at the start of summer were few, but we managed to find some that we liked, and then we went down to the college sign to take a picture. We attempted some self-taken photos, but they were pretty awful, so when we saw a girl and a guy coming out of the nearby building, we decided to ask for some help. The random girl obliged, took our picture in front of the sign, and then asked, “So what is this for? Memories?”

We laughed. Then we all three attempted to explain our mission.

“Wait, so you all don’t even go here?!” she exclaimed in amazement. She laughed at us, we laughed as well, and then we parted ways. I’m sure we will be a source of amusement for her and her friends when she tells them how she met these strange girls who wanted Kalamazoo College shirts.

On to the Air Zoo. The Air Zoo is still somewhat of an oddity to me. It is home of a small collection of planes from days past. You walk around, look at the planes, attempt to take bad pictures in the dark, and then there are the rides. What kind of plane museum has rides? Well, the Air Zoo in Kalamazoo does. So we tried out some of the rides (which are mostly designed to entertain small children).

We went in this flight simulator game in which you “fly” the plane and can make yourself absolutely sick from twisting every which way. We watched a horribly inappropriate for children, 4-D presentation that was miserably sad in commemoration of those who have fought and died in wars. We also rode a drop out thing that takes you up and drops you a few feet and repeats the cycle. That was kind of fun, but the guy operating the ride was kind of teasing us about being riding on children’s rides. Beth-Anne and I also went on this incredible human gyroscope thing that spins you around every which way rather quickly. That was probably the highlight of the Air Zoo for me.

After amusing ourselves there, and handing out a Steps to Christ to the woman who sold us our admission tickets, we decided to head out to Holland, Michigan to see the windmill and the little Dutch village.

We made it in just in time to go catch a tour of the windmill, which was fascinating. A lady dressed in Dutch clothing gave us a thorough tour of De Zwaan Windmill (Dutch for “The Swan”), which is a wooden windmill that they received from Holland back in the 60s or 70s (I think). It is still a working windmill; they actually have a miller who mills wheat. It was so interesting to learn how the windmill works, and we got a few fun pictures there. Unfortunately, the tulip gardens were no longer in bloom, so we didn’t see those, but we did walk around a little bit and look at the shops with wooden shoes and hand-painted porcelains.

Day Three: Kelley's Island to Kalamazoo

2010-06-13T21:56:00.005-04:00

When I went to sleep the previous night, I had already decided that I would wake up early and take a walk in hopes that I could find someone to give a Steps to Christ book to, especially since I had to give away two today. After showering and dressing, I headed out, praying that God would help me to forget the discouragement of yesterday and that He would give me a divine appointment. I prayed about which direction to take, then headed right off Huntington Lane, despite the fact that it was a less populated area. As I walked with the shoreline on my left, I saw a woman walking her dog coming from the opposite direction on the sidewalk. She saw me and looked like she was in a hurry, not wanting to make eye contact. I breathed a prayer and said good morning. She responded, and encouraged, I asked about her dog to make conversation. We talked very briefly, and then I tried to give her Steps to Christ. Failure number two. I walked on even more discouraged and began to talk to God. My eyes teared up (silly, I know) as I confessed my frustration with my unsuccessful attempts.

I passed by another woman and decided against trying to give her a Steps to Christ. I couldn’t think of any good way to stop her as she walked the opposite way, and to be quite honest, I wasn’t quite ready for another rejection, so I just smiled and said hello. I walked to the bend in the road, leaned against a wooden pole, and lingered a while in prayer. Then I turned back, trying to cheer myself out of feeling like a failure.

I hadn’t walked very far back in the direction of the bed and breakfast when I saw the second woman walking toward me on the sidewalk a little distance off. I prayed again, convinced that if I was seeing her twice in this morning walk, God must want me to offer her a book. My mind kicked into motion trying to think of a way to talk to her. As she came near, I (likely very awkwardly) said, “Ma’am, do you like to read?” Somewhat surprised, she stopped and said, “Somewhat I guess.” I then told her that I had been trying to find someone to give a book to, and that I had written a little story to go in it. I asked if she would take one, and she said she would. “Should I pass it on?” she asked. I told her she could if she wanted to, and then we parted ways. I couldn’t help smiling as I continued on my way, and I thanked God for working through my inept words and ways.

After breakfast and packing up, we talked with Patty for a while. She had a lot of questions for us about Adventists; she kept comparing us to Mormons because we had told her about each of our student mission years. It was actually the first time I can ever remember really sharing and answering questions for someone about Adventism, although she didn’t ask many questions specifically about our beliefs. Em gave her a Steps to Christ, and we were on our way. We checked in some little shops—a mostly fruitless search, and then read our devotional book Crazy Love while we waited for the ferry.

Once back to the mainland, we headed out—Michigan bound. More specifically, to Kalamazoo. We chose to make Kalamazoo one of the stops on our road trip mainly because it had such a fun sounding name. We arrived several hours later at our hotel without much event. Beth-Anne was brave and handed out her Steps to Christ to the lady who checked us in to our room, and then we quickly headed upstairs to eat and play on the little dumbwaiter. We watched a beautiful sunset from our window, and then headed off to bed with plans to wake early to conquer the sights of Kalamazoo.

Day Two: Driving Lessons and Kelley's Island

2010-05-30T00:56:00.004-04:00

Wednesday morning began with devotions and breakfast at Emily’s grandmother’s house. We had a small feast, and after we were completely stuffed, we headed out the door for some driving lessons and practice in Emily’s car, Dory, which is a manual transmission car.

Beth-Anne began. She drove around the small neighborhood, and then ventured out onto a slightly more populated road. She did amazing! This only served to make me more nervous. I had not driven stickshift in several years, nor had I ever been particularly good at it. Thankfully, when it was my turn to practice, I managed to get around without much event. Then Emily decided we needed to practice starting on slight hills so we headed over to a small garden park area she knew. “There are hardly ever any cars,” she assured us.

As I stopped on the slight incline, a car was pulling into the garden behind me. I began to panic a little bit, but managed to get going without terribly much trouble. We looped around the parking lot, headed back toward the incline at the entrance, and then I realized that I was going to have to make a 3-point turn on a bridge to get back to the incline. Have I ever mentioned that I hate reverse? I stalled—twice—while trying to reverse. Finally, slightly flustered, I managed to get turned around and practiced starting on the hill again. I did this a total of three times, and was finally beginning to feel comfortable enough.

Beth-Anne took the driver’s seat and began her session. She did incredibly well, though she rolled a little bit the first time. But as we were doing this loop, we noticed that there were actually quite a few cars coming through, and a park ranger was standing by the side of the road, glancing suspiciously at us each time we came around. We finished up and left the ranger in peace to wonder at our odd behavior, thankful that he hadn’t stopped us to question us.

After getting groceries and a pretty plant for Emily’s grandma, we were off! Emily drove at first to get us out of stressful driving situations, and then I took the wheel. Amazingly enough, we only had one nearly catastrophic event. I was driving behind a super slow tractor and decided to pass him on a one-lane road. As I moved into the lane for oncoming traffic, I began to shift, but realized I had shifted into neutral and didn’t know which gear I should be in. A car was coming from the other direction, and I (thankfully) did not panic and managed to pass the tractor and get back into our lane in time to avoid colliding. Needless to say, I think Em’s and Beth-Anne’s heart rates jumped quite a bit. Other than that, our only real excitement before we reached Kelley’s Island was stopping for an 85-car train (yes, I counted).

We arrived at the ferry to Kelley’s Island at about 3:30 pm and waited for the 4 o’clock ferry. Once across Lake Erie to the island, we headed for The House on Huntington Lane, a bed and breakfast owned by an Irish woman named Patty. She gave us a tour, we put down our stuff, and headed out on the bicycles to explore the island. We biked for about 2 hours and visited the local library, discovered some summer snow (cottonwood seeds), and went to the north coast where we took some pictures. We also saw a water snake that is indigenous only to some of the islands in Lake Erie and took some pictures on the rocks. Then we headed up to see the glacial grooves, and biked on the road next to the shoreline back to our room.

At one point, we scouted out some of the shops, including the general store. I asked the guy behind the counter a few questions about the postcards and some of the landmarks on the island that we wanted to see in the morning. Then… I tried to give him a Steps to Christ. And failed. Miserably. I was quite discouraged as we left.

Day One: TN to OH

2010-05-27T21:35:00.002-04:00

Emily, Beth-Anne, and I have been planning a road trip for the last several months. As it came closer, I got more and more excited, and nervous. I was excited to spend time with them, do really fun things, and see new places. I was nervous because we had decided that we would step out of our comfort zones a little bit. Each of us agreed to hand out one Steps to Christ book to someone each day of our trip. Maybe this sounds trivial to you, but for three introverted girls, it’s huge. No amount of reasoning that I would likely never see these people again has been able to assuage my anxiety.

In any case, Tuesday began with me being late, as usual. But I had baked some cookies for our trip and to leave with Matthew as a thank-you for letting us borrow his wife, and I made it to Matt and Beth-Anne’s home after an uneventful drive.

Beth-Anne and I decided to take my recently repaired car the 7 hours from her house to Columbus, Ohio to meet up with Emily at her grandmother’s home. We made our way through sunshine and indecisive rain that wavered back and forth between a downpour and a sprinkling. Suddenly, Philbert (my car) decided he was done with quality time with Beth-Anne and me. The engine light came on just as a Good Year Tire and Service building came into view. What perfect timing. We coasted in, and after conferencing about our options, we decided to drive the 40 minutes back to Beth-Anne’s to get her car, Ellie.

As we were almost to the church where we were going to meet Matt and trade cars, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that a red SUV had sped up, then slowed down to drive right next to us. Beth-Anne and I looked over to see two young boys grinning widely and waving at us. I turned my head back to the road in front of me real fast as my face began to turn red. Beth-Anne and I laughed so hard. They really looked like they couldn’t be much older than 16, but then again, who am I to talk. Thankfully, they turned off soon afterward, and we were able to avoid eye contact with them again.

The rest of our journey once we exchanged cars was rather uneventful. We made one detour in Ohio to visit with my aunt and cousin for a few minutes, and then made it to Emily’s grandmother’s house by about 10:30 pm.

Sabbath Blessings

2010-05-21T21:37:00.001-04:00

I bowed my head and began to pray before my devotions one Sabbath morning. I felt myself starting to get more and more tense and anxious as I prayed about the things that had been weighing heavy on my heart. How ridiculous, I thought to myself. I’m presenting my concerns before the Lord of Heaven and Earth, and instead of bringing me peace, it’s causing me to feel more stressed. I realized that I was considering the problems rather than the power of my God to work in each situation. I went through a few cycles of anxiety giving way to trust before I decided that I needed to leave my problems alone for a while and do my devotions.

“God, please give me a Sabbath blessing today,” I finished praying. I was really feeling a desperate need to be truly blessed. My week had been difficult, and not only did I feel a need for rest, but also for a regenerating day.

I opened my Bible to Luke, where I had been reading for devotions each morning. As I found where I had left off, I laughed. It started in Luke 12:22, which has the heading “Do Not Worry.” Point taken.

I went to Village Chapel for church, and when we got to the responsive reading, the man who got up front to lead out announced that the reading had been changed from what was in the bulletin. I turned in the back of the hymnal to the new reading and was astonished to see that the title was “Do Not Worry.” Alright, God. I get it. I smiled and prayed a silent prayer of thanks.

When the pastor got up to preach, he announced that he had decided to change his sermon that morning. His new sermon title was, “He’s Able.” The pastor led us in singing the children’s song, “He’s Able,” and I sat back to listen. I truly believe that God had him change the sermon for me. As he talked more and more about how God is able to guide us, save us, and keep what we have committed to him, I felt more and more at peace. His sermon was a deeper reiteration of my morning devotions, and it was exactly the blessing I needed that morning.

New Apartment

2010-05-12T11:12:00.002-04:00

There is much joy in this apartment...

... and also many K(Ch)risti(e)ns.

Sleep Studying

2010-04-27T08:12:00.006-04:00

People poke fun at the idea of sleeping with a book beneath your pillow in the hopes that knowledge will follow the rules of osmosis. But last night really made me wonder if it is possible to learn in your sleep.

I had quite contentedly fallen asleep to the soothing melodies of George Winston. This morning I awoke in some confusion, thinking that all my alarms had gone off, and that I had overslept (which turned out not to be the case). No big deal. No finals today, at least not ones for which I need to study. But as I lay there awake, I began to think about what I had been dreaming about just prior to my awakening.

Someone in my dream had been expounding on Bible verses. I couldn't quite wrap my mind around what he had been saying, though somehow I knew it had been surrounded by some slightly odd circumstances in my dream. It was then that I realized that no longer were the sweet sounds of George Winston reverberating in my ears, but instead the comparatively unmelodious voice of Eugene Prewitt.

A Laodicean Sink

2010-04-24T13:44:00.002-04:00

Oh, the virtues of a Laodicean sink. Would that mine were one.

I love washing dishes. No, I'm not just saying that; I really do enjoy washing dishes. There are other chores that I enjoy not so much, but washing dishes is soothing for me. Unfortunately, the sink where I currently reside tends to be either quite cold or scalding hot. This poses a slight problem for rinsing the dishes, and each time, I am faced with a decision-- do I burn my fingers, or do I rinse the dishes in cold water?

I was thinking about this today, and I wondered, am I like my sink? When I speak to people, do the words pouring forth from my lips sear like the Refiner's fire? Do I speak the Truth in boldness that tells of the Source of an unquenchable fire in my soul? Or am I merely spouting the mediocrity of a love growing cold?

Soccer

2010-04-19T23:34:00.004-04:00

Soccer boosts my spirits like nothing else. Adrenaline surging through my veins, making my legs shake if I stand still. The extreme satisfaction of making a superb play. The camaraderie. The severe soreness that results from willing my muscles to work just a little harder. It just... words fail me at the moment to describe how satisfying soccer is for me.

Tonight we played so well. It was probably one of the best games I played this year, though I didn't do as well as I would have liked when I played midfield. There were some truly incredible plays by our goalie, Erin, and several others made epic saves as well. Despite the facts that the referees were making biased calls and the opposition was the number one team in the league, I am extremely pleased at the outcome.

The opposing team's record before our game was 25 season goals and no allowed goals in 5 games. While we didn't score any goals, our goalie only allowed 2, and one of those was a penalty kick, which is nearly impossible to block.

I love the satisfaction of a game well played. I am reminded of Paul's analogy of the race we run in this Great Controversy. I'm no runner, unfortunately. But relating it to soccer helps me see more clearly the point Paul was making. In the game tonight, I made some mistakes, I slipped up. But I also pressed on, pushing myself beyond my limits. I made some good plays, worked with my team, and played hard against the opposition. When all was said and done, after the game I was satisfied with my performance, even though I wasn't on the winning end of the game.

In life, I have made mistakes, I've slipped up. I haven't always represented God the way I should. But God has been helping me to press on; I'm learning to allow God to test me beyond what I thought were my limits. I am learning to play hard against the opposition. And I look forward to the day when I will hear God say, "Well played," and I can have the satisfaction of knowing that "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith" by God's grace. 2 Timothy 4:7

I can't wait for that glorious day, that indescribable feeling.

Foolish Heart

2010-04-18T09:33:00.002-04:00

I can't remember a time I've felt so.... confused doesn't even come close to describing it. Honestly, the only thing that comes close to describing how I feel is to say that I feel a bit like I imagine Ophelia did just before she went mad.

Yesterday I went to Oakwood University to hear David Asscherick speak for DEEP Sabbath. I enjoyed the experience overall, but Asscherick's sermon was incredible. I've heard it before, actually. But hearing it again was so powerful, and at the end of his sermon, he made an appeal for surrender. I felt impressed to give something up-- something that's been causing me a lot of confusion and distress. You would imagine something like that would be easy to give up; who wants to hold on to something that's causing distress, right?

Foolish heart that I am, I spent the rest of the day taking it right back off the altar. And I knew it too. I just couldn't let go. And I'm still struggling with it this morning. Then I read this post by Matt, and my heart broke for its own obstinacy.

Oh, God. Please forgive this imprudent heart. Give me grace to let go.

Exposed Soles

2010-04-08T13:46:00.010-04:00

Cold, rough concrete. At least it's not gravel. With each step, the contact between my soft sole and the hard pavement holds captive in my consciousness the fact that my feet are without protection. It is not long at all before I notice how tender the bottoms of my feet have gotten.

I move to the side and the texture morphs from solid, harsh pavement to a somewhat slimy mesh of earth and grass. The change in terrain does nothing to relieve me of my awareness; the unfamiliar feel combined with the puddles of rain water is too new to my senses.

I wasn't planning to participate in the event on campus, "One Day Without Shoes." A friend asked if I was going to go barefoot for it, and I said no, but when he asked, "Why not?" I couldn't really think of any good reason. Instead, I began to think of reasons why I really should. So here I am, with exposed soles.

To be honest, it's been somewhat of an inconvenience-- the grass and leaves sticking to my feet because of the cold rain, the rough pavement rubbing my feet, feeling guilty for tracking water and dirt on clean floors, and the stickiness of the not-so-clean tile floors. But the continual awareness of my exposure has been worthwhile, because my inconveniences only further prove my privileges. At least I have pavement to walk on instead of hot sand or rocky paths. At least I am in a place with tiled and carpeted floors in buildings.

The whole experience has made me think that maybe it's not such a bad thing to be inconvenienced. It reminds me of how privileged I am, it helps me better relate to those who aren't as privileged, at least in a small way. Then I think of another person who was inconvenienced for the sake of others.

Jesus inconvenienced himself. He lowered himself to living among men. Jesus exposed his soul-- to the harsh, wounding rejection of those he loves, to the pain of life away from the Presence of God. But the end result of Jesus' choice to inconvenience himself was not merely an awareness of his great privilege, or a means of relating to mankind, but rather an opportunity at freedom and a life of privilege for those who are underprivileged and oppressed by Satan's loveless reign.

Pet Peeve

2010-04-08T12:46:00.004-04:00

You know how you can never come up with your pet peeves when people ask you about them? Well, I can't anyway. But I remembered one of them yesterday. Forewarning: please disregard the dishevelment of the following thoughts.

It really irks me when older adults refer to the youth as the future of the church. Truly.

It is my firm belief that youth and young adults are not the future of the church, but rather they are the church, right here, right now. Or at least that's how it ought to be in my opinion. Adults wonder and have tried to determine what exactly it is that makes young people leave the church. I don't profess to know the answer, but I think that at least one portion of the multi-faceted cause is that young people are not given any ownership in the church. They are constantly reminded that they are the future of the church, but when exactly is that? When someone turns 25 do they suddenly become part of the church? Or is it 30?

For a good while now, I have had a strong dislike for the recurring theme in the church that the elder generation will one day, at some undetermined time to come, pass the torch on to the youth. Why is it that the young, middle-aged, and elderly can't all be the church together in unity in the present time?

I don't pretend to ignore the fact that in order for that to become a reality young people will have to prove themselves worthy of the name Christian, but that's the same standard to which the older generation also ought to be held. But I really do believe that continuing to ingrain in the minds of the youth that they are the future of the church is disabling to their spiritual leadership.

Don't let anyone think less of you because you are young. Be an example to all believers in what you say, in the way you live, in your love, your faith, and your purity. ~1 Timothy 4:12, NLT

Comic Relief

2010-03-30T15:09:00.009-04:00

A guidebook on the many expressions of Kristin's face, courtesy of PhotoBooth. Just so you can identify them later.

I-am-so-not-happy-to-be-in-the-hospital-and-I-dislike-IVs look (No worries, I try not to use this expression while at work in the hospital)

I-am-so-tired-I-could-fall-asleep-at-the-keyboard-but-I-have-to-finish-this-paper look.

I-am-bored-out-of-my-mind look

Ugh-do-I-really-have-to-write-this-paper look (This one is coming into more frequent use of late)

Hurray-I-am-so-super-excited-I-can't-contain-myself look (This will become more frequently expressed as the previous look declines in popularity)

Oh-dear-what-am-I-going-to-do-with-this-wild-mop-of-hair look (This look is near daily in its frequency of use, though it is mostly limited to morning hours)

And yes, I ought to be writing a paper instead of posting this. Though, likely, you ought to be writing a paper instead of viewing it.

Disorderly Musings on Joy

2010-03-29T14:54:00.005-04:00

True, deep, indwelling joy is one of the most overwhelming gifts of God. Recently, I've felt like I might just burst I'm so full of blessings from God.

Several years ago, I remember praying a prayer. I was tired of circumstantial joy. And I was beginning to realize that joy that comes from any source other than God Himself is no more than a counterfeit. I prayed and asked God to help me truly learn to allow Him to be my source of joy-- regardless of circumstance.

I certainly haven't "arrived," but God is good and has brought me so much closer to fulfillment of that prayer. Africa had a lot to do with that. But then, so did other things. Honestly though, I think in the growing process, the thing that has most helped me to this point is a recognition of where my blessings come from. The consciousness that every good thing that comes in my life is a gift straight from my Father above has helped my love for God grow immeasurably. (James 1:17)

I think a great majority of people on Earth are living life half asleep-- unaware of the presence and prominence of God in their lives. And in part, it is this unawareness, unconsciousness that deprives them of the abundant life that God has promised for this life and eternity.

I've always been slightly envious of those with infectious personalities. You know, the people that everyone loves to be around because they are just so full of life. The ones who can make you smile just by being present, the ones that breathe joy.

So I suppose it's time to modify my prayer. I truly hope that God can take this joy He's poured into my heart and let it flow out to others. I hope that He can give me a passion to share my Source of joy that others can have the same indwelling joy that brings life more abundant.

Amazing Quote

2010-03-27T22:55:00.003-04:00

God knows just what we need when we need it. Some of my housemates and I are reading through a book together, and I needed to hear the chapter we read tonight. Here's one quote we came across that was absolutely amazing:

"Why should we come to Jesus Christ? Not for our own benefit. We should honor and serve and love and give our lives to Jesus Christ even if we were to go to hell at the end of the road... because He is worthy!" (Paris Reidhead, "Ten Shekels and a Shirt," www.sermonindex.com).

It's Official...

2010-03-26T10:10:00.002-04:00

God is good. And funny.

Praise the Lord, it is official-- I am graduating in May. By some miracle, I was able to finish my correspondence class today, a mere day before the deadline. And I am thrilled. I learned a lot and enjoyed the material of the class, though not the design.

Last night I left Bible study in exhaustion. I did not want to study, I did not want to do anything. My brain was protesting its cruel treatment of late. I decided it would be beneficial to go straight to bed and wake up super early to study in the morning. Unfortunately, I have recently acquired a bad habit of turning off my alarm without realizing it and sleeping too late. I was slightly terrified of the prospect of this occurring this morning because I had not studied at all for my final. So in preparation, I set my alarm and left it across the room on my desk, prayed, and went to sleep.

This morning, I awoke in panic, vaguely remembering turning off my alarm and falling back asleep. I sprang out of bed, checked the time-- 7:53 AM! My test was scheduled for 8 AM. Oh dear. Then...

I awoke in panic! Wide awake, I jumped out of bed, ran to my desk, and checked the time-- 3:54 AM. I let out a giant sigh of relief. My alarm was set to go off at 4 AM. God knew I needed the time to study, and He kindly woke me at an adequate time. I was able to have worship, eat, study everything thoroughly, and arrive in plenty of time for my test, which I think went well.

God is good. And funny.

Where's the Lion?

2010-03-24T08:18:00.003-04:00

For shame,
Oh, hesitant Spring.

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

I wrote a poem with these as the ending lines, but I didn't like it. When the door was open this morning for a few minutes, I realized how very chilly it was, and I thought these two lines. I wanted to write a poem to support them, but unfortunately, creativity and time are lacking, which makes for poor poetry. So for now, you can imagine the rest of the poem ;)

Update: I retract. It's gorgeous outside. And quite warm too.

Independence is a Virtue?

2010-03-21T10:51:00.003-04:00

I just stumbled across a blog in which a woman wrote a letter to her future husband. The title caught me off guard and piqued my curiosity. It said, "Dear My Future Husband, I am not Waiting for You Anymore."

As I began to read through it, I was taken by surprise at this woman's reasoning. She said she wasn't waiting for her future husband anymore because she didn't need him to be complete. I thought, "How insightful of her. I'm impressed because many girls don't realize that." However, the rest of the post made it quite clear that that was the end of our common reasoning. She went on to say that she was perfectly complete and content without him, that her two dogs, hobbies, interests, and other aspects of her life were enough to fulfill her needs. This was not to say that she didn't look forward to meeting her future husband and sharing her life with him, but rather that he was not necessary because the other things that she had filled her life with were enough.

I find this sad for one main reason. Nowhere in this post was the name of God mentioned. This woman feels completely content because of the things that fill her life, because she herself feels complete. This, to me, is tragic because it is so exemplary of the all-too-common belief in today's society that God is not necessary; God is not the one who is bringing contentment by filling people's lives, but rather things and self are filling that void. Independence is a virtue touted by society, and I'm afraid that it's having a crippling effect on humanity because just like the toddler who proclaims, "I can do it myself!" humans are training themselves to reject the truly necessary helping hand God offers.

Art Ministry

2010-03-12T13:49:00.004-05:00

This is another idea Christen gave me as a way to keep Sabbath while I'm at work in the hospital. These cards have encouraging Bible verses on them, and I'll be giving them out to patients tonight. Thanks to all of you who were able to come and decorate cards. We'll be doing it again sometime; I'll let you know when. Happy Sabbath!

Misunderstood

2010-03-10T08:41:00.003-05:00

You may or may not believe it, but when I was younger, I was intensely shy. Intensely. In fact, I was so shy that I rarely spoke except to my brothers and parents. I remember more than one occasion where my timidity was severely misunderstood. One day in particular when I was about 11 or 12, I will never forget.
My mother came up to my room to talk to me. I can't recall her exact words or how she brought up the topic, but she told me that one of our neighbors, a good friend of the family, thought that I didn't like him and that I was snobby. I burst into tears. It was terribly frustrating to be so severely mistaken. Snobby? I have my character flaws, but snobbiness has never been one of them, and it truly was a deep blow to my sensitive soul.
I very strongly dislike the emotions that misunderstanding brings up for me. In fact, I might argue that for me, being misunderstood is one of the most wounding circumstances. I've tried to figure out why, and I can think of two main reasons. The first is that I care, possibly entirely too much, what others' opinions of me are, and when others misunderstand me, I feel as if I've somehow failed at representing myself. The second is that feeling misunderstood creates a feeling of deep aloneness.
Jesus, better than any man, understands the deep wounds of misunderstanding. I was reminded of that this morning in my devotions. In Desire of Ages, Ellen White says this of Jesus when beginning his ministry:
"Though He was the Prince of Peace, His coming must be as the unsheathing of a sword. The kingdom He had come to establish was the opposite of that which the Jews desired. He who was the foundation of the ritual and economy of Israel would be looked upon as its enemy and destroyer. He who had proclaimed the law upon Sinai would be condemned as a transgressor. He who had come to break the power of Satan would be denounced as Beelzebub. No one upon earth had understood Him, and during His ministry He must still walk alone. Throughout His life His mother and His brothers did not comprehend His mission. Even His disciples did not understand Him. He had dwelt in eternal light, as one with God, but His life on earth must be spent in solitude." (111)
God the Father, too, has long borne with the hurt of misunderstanding. Satan has done everything in his power to create a false picture of God, and the world at large has accepted that image. Everything that God is not-- cruel, unforgiving, heartless-- Satan has widely succeeded in convincing men that He is. I cannot begin to fathom the deep agony that the great deception of men has caused God. And yet He bears it, and bears it long, that one day His character may be revealed in truth and light to all. And one day, all creation will acknowledge the true face of God; His character will be vindicated.
I just pray that until that day God will give me the strength and will to represent His character well before the world that I come into contact with. Because it pains me to think that I am often the cause of some of that pain of misunderstanding to God.

Verdict: Not So Brave

2010-03-05T12:52:00.007-05:00

Sorry, Alex. No razors, no baldness. I got about 3-4 inches cut off, and despite appearances in the pictures, I did not dye my hair.

I find it amusing that my hair looks light and blonde in the before picture with the whitish background, and looks somewhat more red and dark next to the brick wall. Perhaps I'm part chameleon...

The Time Has Come...

2010-03-04T11:38:00.002-05:00

Time for a haircut? I think so. The question is, how brave and adventurous am I feeling?

One Snowy Spring Break Morning

2010-03-02T09:47:00.003-05:00

It is March. In southeastern Tennessee.

My commentary on this next one makes me laugh. This is why I avoid impromptu speaking.

*If you want to see these videos slightly larger, click here.

Myers-Briggs

2010-03-01T11:46:00.004-05:00

According to this site, I am an:
I = 56.67%
N = 53.33%
F = 51.52%
J = 74.19%

The following information was found here.

Extraverted Feeling reaches out to attach and interact with other living things . . . nurturing relationships. It is about validating and valuing others, encouraging, coaching, educating and motivating. It is protecting, helping, and caretaking. The Extraverted Feeling mind organizes action consistent with values, beliefs, spiritual foundations, and sense of humanity - how people (and other living things) ought to be treated. Extraverted Feeling promotes collaboration, a shared sense of community, and harmony in interpersonal relationships.
Extraverted Feeling (Fe) is dominant in ESFJ & ENFJ and supportive in ISFJ & INFJ personality types.

Introverted Intuition reflects on patterns, relationships, symbols, meanings, and perspectives on matters from complex phenomena to magical connections to practical problems. The Introverted Intuitive mind typically creates a unique vision and arrives at unique insights about things, phenomena, or people. It strives to discover the essence of things and fill in the missing pieces of a puzzle. Introverted Intuitive types frequently will have complex visions or perspectives that they are unable to explain with clarity to others.
Introverted Intuition (Ni) is dominant in INFJ & INTJ and supportive in ENFJ & ENTJ personality types.

This is an interesting description of the dominant introverted intuition traits in INFJs and INTJs found here:

Without introverted intuitives, it is said that Israel would have had no prophets. Under deceptively conventional appearances lie perceptive minds that travel the breadth and depth of universal mysteries, contemplating its multilayered complexity, seeking the trends that will define the future. With time, clarity of vision comes. When it comes, they are propelled towards the vision and all their actions lead to it. They are perseverant behind a quiet exterior and will often come back with their vision long after everyone believes they have let it go.

What they see is so clear and obvious to them they are often surprised to find that others cannot see it as well. They may find it difficult to articulate the necessary steps towards implementation or to explain how each goal fits into the larger picture.

Their mind usually travels from the past to the future, seeking to fit a particular situation in a large context. It picks up patterns, symbols and images from different seemingly unrelated fields, identifies similarities and provides meaning. This can help solve problems by juxtaposing ideas, finding analogies or simply by rooting out the quintessential reality, discovering the origin in universal stories and human experiences, culling wisdom from the infinitely small to the infinitely large. Their mind naturally travels from the microcosm to the macrocosm.

They regularly have to face the difficulties of bringing dreams into reality. The time and effort it takes is always more than what their intuition initially suggested. They are determined, perseverant, inspired and often see things just around the corner, into the near or far future.

This Imprudent Heart

2010-02-23T13:53:00.004-05:00

At times I long for
Forbidden fruit untasted,
Rash as that might be.

Sabbath Fun

2010-02-21T10:59:00.020-05:00

Hark! 'Tis a Martina!

Christen gloweth

Christen says I look like I'm holding on by my one super strong arm

Erin has an epiphany for a silly pose

Silliness

What fun Poplarites we are

Ironically enough, Martina looks quite natural as the center of attention here.

This is probably my favorite :)

Recipe for Disaster

2010-02-20T23:12:00.002-05:00

This is by far the most awful sounding recipe I have come across, I'm pretty sure. Whilst having dinner tonight with Ivan, Erin, and Christen, I noticed this recipe on the lid of my Smucker's peanut butter jar. I'll let you be the judge of the potential for yourself, but to be completely honest, it sounds to me like the result of some pregnant woman's cravings, except without the mayonnaise and pickles.

1 cup Smucker's Natural, stirred or Organic Peanut butter (off to a good start)
1/2 cup warm water (nothing too dangerous yet)
1/2 cup Dickinson's Tomato Ketchup (ketchup?! really?!)
1 tablespoon soy sauce (you lost me at ketchup)
1 teaspoon garlic powder (perhaps this was an effort of salvaging)
1/2 tablespoon rice wine vinegar (no further comment)
1 pound uncooked rotini pasta
1/2 cup chopped red bell pepper
Shredded Cheddar cheese (optional)

1. Combine peanut butter, water, ketchup, soy sauce, garlic powder, and vinegar in small bowl with a whisk, until smooth and well blended.
2. Cook pasta according to the package directions. Drain well.
3. Toss hot pasta twists with sauce, until evenly coated. Garnish with red bell pepper and shredded Cheddar cheese, if desired.

My Inbox

2010-02-17T15:13:00.000-05:00

A perspective on my life based on the contents of my email inbox by subject line:

Dr. Bietz Convocation Credit
Visit #2
what do you think?...
Olympic watching Thursday
Soccer Team!
dearest :)
Evangelistic Series
Applied Stats
Recipes :-)

Random, I know. But I wonder if it says anything about me. If nothing else, it certainly is an interesting conglomeration of subjects in my mind.

Happy Valentine's Day

2010-02-14T22:59:00.015-05:00

My first year truly participating in Team Black:

Grave Situation

2010-02-09T10:31:00.002-05:00

I miss linguistics. Not the class, but the subject. I thoroughly enjoyed my etymology research on the word sweet, although, if you were to ask me, I honestly couldn't recall what the history of that word in English is, and I think I lost my paper...

This morning as I was writing part of my introduction for my research paper in Aging & Society, I made a completely unintentional pun that made me laugh, ironically. My topic is on evolving attitudes toward death and dying throughout the lifespan. Thrilling, I know. The sentence that made me laugh starts like this:

"Often, when one considers such a grave topic. . ."

In French, the word grave, from my understanding, means serious. When I was in Chad, some of the other SMs and I would use the phrase, "Oh, c'est grave," fairly often, sometimes jokingly. I remember talking to Stefan once about the lack of an equivalent usage in English. "What am I going to say when I'm back in America?" I asked in dismay. Then I remembered that the word grave does exist in English; we just don't often use it.

Anyway, the point of all this is that after writing that sentence for my paper, I thought of how much I would love to do a short etymology of the word grave just for kicks. Random? Yes.

Work Stats

2010-02-07T08:47:00.007-05:00

For those of you who have wondered what I do at work for the IV team, here are some stats from last night.

Within an 8 hour shift:
Successful IV starts: 7
Unsuccessful IV starts: 3
Total sticks: 15
Difficult sticks: 5
Site care/IV dressing changes: 2
Central line dressing change: 1
D/C PICC: 1
Consult/Questions: 1
Code Blue/Rapid Response calls: 0 (praise the Lord)

At the end of each shift we have to charge things to each of the patients we've seen and then total up our stats and write them down in various places. Now you know a little better what an IV team nurse does. Well, at least for one night. Last night was a bad night for sticks for me.

Oh, and a clarification on difficult sticks; we actually do have to count those each night, and there are certain criteria for them. Anyone you stick more than once is automatically a difficult stick. Also, if you are in the room for 45 minutes, they are a difficult stick. If they are confused or fidgety, they're considered difficult, and if you make a recommendation for a PICC line, they're a difficult stick. So it's not quite as subjective as one might think.

Update: Tonight's stats
Successful IV starts: 9
Unsuccessful IV starts: 1
Total sticks: 19
Difficult sticks: 7
Cathflo: 3

Cathflo is a really fun drug we mix up to declot PICC lines.

Light in Darkness

2010-02-06T11:55:00.003-05:00

This past week was rough. Thursday was a particularly low point for me. But God is good; He has blessed me with the most incredible and encouraging friends, and He speaks words of comfort and reassurance. One way God spoke to me was through an illustration brought up at Bible study on Thursday night-- the parable of the talents.

Someone made the comment that the Master was just as pleased with the servant He had given two talents to. That servant had invested and put to use all that he was given, and even though he didn't make as much profit as the servant who was given five talents, the Master was equally delighted with both servants who put their talents to use for Him. And He would have been equally pleased with the servant He had only given one talent to had he done anything worthwhile with it for his Master. Sometimes I feel like a one- or two-talent servant. I don't always feel like God has given me much to work with, but I pray that He will help me put to good use what He has blessed me with that He may be just as pleased with me as any of His children.

The other passage that really spoke to me was this:

You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope.
With less of you there is more of God and his rule.
You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you.
Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.
You're blessed when you're content with just who you are-- no more, no less.
That's the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can't be bought.
You're blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God.
He's food and drink in the best meal you'll ever eat.
You're blessed when you care.
At the moment of being 'care-full,' you find yourselves cared for.
You're blessed when you get your inside world-- your mind and heart-- put right.
Then you can see God in the outside world.
You're blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight.
That's when you discover who you really are, and your place in God's family.
You're blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution.
The persecution drives you even deep into God's kingdom.
~Matthew 5:3-10, The Message

Code Blue

2010-02-01T20:26:00.007-05:00

I witnessed my first real code at work yesterday.

I was walking down the hallway to go to a call I had gotten to restart an IV (take out an old one and put a new one in). As I neared the end of the hallway, I heard moaning and pained exclamations coming from an open door.

"Please don't let that be the one that needs an IV..." I thought, knowing full well that it likely was the one I was headed to see.

Sure enough it was. "Ok, God, here we go." I walked in the room, introduced myself and asked if I could notify his nurse that he was in pain. I noted a crash cart in the corner of the room and wondered if he had recently been coded.

He replied that she already knew he was hurting, and then began to exclaim, "Ahh, my legs are cramping up again. It hurts so bad."

I tried to calm him down, and then proceeded to the task at hand. As I looked and felt on his arms for a good vein, he spouted off intermittent curses and supplications to God while restlessly tossing in bed. A nurse came to give him some potassium and tried to soothe him; his new nurse for the night shift also came in, talked to him, and then took the crash cart out of the room mumbling something about not needing it anymore. I managed to get a 20 gauge IV in a good spot, hesitated, and then, "Sir, would you like me to pray with you?"

"I don't care," he replied crossly as he turned his face from mine.

"Alright, well," I paused. "I'll go let your nurse know that you're still in pain." I turned to walk out the door with an apprehensive feeling: he's going to code. As I left, I reprimanded myself, "Why didn't you pray with him? Well, then again, he didn't seem very receptive to the idea..."

An hour and a half later while attempting to stick another patient, I heard the announcement over the loudspeaker: "Code Blue, room 363 (*room number changed). Code Blue, room 363." My heart sank. I finished up with my current patient, then walked briskly across the hospital to his room. When I arrived, there were nurses littering the hallway, staring on apathetically. I peered inside the overcrowded and slightly chaotic room. I talked to his nurse who was outside in the hallway and asked if his IV access was good enough since I had just put in the line a little over an hour ago. He replied that it was fine, so I decided not to join the multitude watching helplessly.

I haven't been able to get the image of his face and the nurse doing compressions on his limp body out of my mind. Running fake codes for ACLS certification this morning didn't help matters. I can't help but feel that I should have done more. I should have prayed with him. I should have tried harder to say something encouraging or comforting. I should have talked to his nurse, maybe had them call rapid response team. Mostly it boils down to this: I left that room intuitively thinking he was going to code, and did nothing.

How often do I interact with people thinking that they're headed downhill in a spiritual sense and yet do nothing? God, forgive me for my severe lack of concern for the souls of your children. Even more, God help me to overcome my timidity and act boldly in Your Spirit for their sake and Yours.

Above Average

2010-01-26T17:21:00.006-05:00

I've just made an incredible discovery. According to one of my textbooks, I am just very slightly above average height. Across all biocultural groups for women, average height is 63.7 inches; for white Americans, it is 63.8 inches.*

I am a proud 63.9 inches tall.

*Study data from 1995.

Goodbye Gray

2010-01-25T20:16:00.002-05:00

I've been trying to get rid of the gray in my life. I'm not talking about gray hairs, gray sweaters, or gray skies. I mean the gray areas. For example, fictional literature that doesn't have content overtly contradictory to my values, or secular music with lyrics that are somewhat neutral.

At GYC, one of the speakers highlighted the point that every action we take in life is developing our character, either drawing us closer to God and heaven's perfection, or drowning us in our carnal nature. That really hit home for me. There are quite a few things in my life that are neutral in that they aren't bad in and of themselves, but they certainly aren't doing anything to foster a love relationship between me and my God.

So recently, I've been trying extra hard to cut out of my life those things that seem to fall in the gray area, lumping them in with the blacks of life. This has created a need to classify certain music, literature, and things of that sort. Unfortunately, this is much more difficult than it sounds; gray is quite often hard to identify, oddly enough.

One dilemma I've come across is what to do with classical and instrumental music. These are both genres of music that I am fond of, but can't completely justify as music that lends itself to positive character development or fostering of spiritual growth.

I'm curious if any of you have thoughts on this subject- gray areas, or specifically on classical/instrumental music. I'd very much like some outside feedback to help in processing my own thoughts.

Umm Odd...

2010-01-16T23:29:00.005-05:00

So I have a propensity toward awful/scary/weird dreams. I don't know what it is, but I tend to have nightmares somewhat frequently. Sometimes they wake me up, and I'm grateful for that. Last night I had one such terrifying dream that awakened me at some odd hour of the morning. Thankfully I fell back asleep rather quickly.

However, the night was not finished. My next dream of the night was odd on many different levels. First, I think I had handmaids. Second, I was locked in a room, being held hostage by none other than my soon-to-be husband. Apparently I was engaged to him, but I didn't want to be, and with good reason; I mean, after all, he had locked me in this basement room so I couldn't escape and would have to marry him. Somehow, my grandparents managed to get into this room to free me. So I hurriedly began packing my things so that I could flee the certain doom of marriage to this cruel man. But then whilst throwing my clothes into a duffel bag, I had a small thought: Maybe I don't want to leave. Yeah. Perhaps I really ought to stay. And marry him.

I left my grandparents in the room, walked down the hallway to another small room in which, incidentally, my fiancé was sitting. He looked upset, but not angry. He knew I was going to run away, but he wasn't planning to try to stop me (odd seeing as he's the one who locked me up in the first place). I walked over to him and told him, "I think I want to stay here with you." He replied that he would like that very much (apparently my talent for screenwriting is non-existent, even in my dreams). And that was that. I woke up.

I know. Beyond odd. Where does this stuff come from? I just hope this isn't in any way a foreshadowing of things to come, that it's just a strange, strange nonsensical dream. I also hope I haven't bored you with this if you're still reading; I hope you've laughed at least once while reading this so that it wasn't a complete waste of your time.

I think tonight I'll pray for sweet dreams...

Unethical Dilemma

2010-01-14T22:56:00.012-05:00

Today in class I was confronted with a question. It was a question that I immediately knew the answer to, but after some class discussion of the issue, I began to second guess myself. Since then, I have given it some thought and have come to a final conclusion of my opinion. However, I would love to have a conversation with several of my friends about it to hear more opinions, but due to lack of time and overlapping schedules, I have decided to post the issue here and hope for some thoughtful comments.

In Research class, we learned briefly about several cases of unethical research that have been conducted, namely, the Nazi experiments on Jewish prisoners, the Tuskegee study, Willowbrook studies, and the Jewish Chronic Disease Hospital study (scroll down to find this one). A question was then asked of the class: Do you think that the research done in these and other unethical studies should be published and utilized?

So that's my question to you. Should the results be published and utilized, or discarded unused because of the unethical means of obtainment? Would not publishing the results be a waste of those individuals' suffering and mistreatment, or would publication add insult to injury in taking lightly their mistreatment for the benefit of others?

Sabbath Blessings

2010-01-10T13:34:00.000-05:00

These are my Sabbath scrubs. I'm trying to find ways to remember the Sabbath day even on the days that I'm required to work. This is just one of the things that I decided would be a good reminder. I chose these scrubs because the colors are soothing, calming colors-- which is good for both me and my patients. Plus they have hearts on them and say things like faith, hope, and love. I think they're my favorites.

Thankfully, soon I'll be off of orientation and likely won't have to work as many Sabbath hours. But for now God has been blessing and hopefully using me as a blessing. My first two days of work were both great overall, and I'm looking forward to more of the same: challenges and growth.

Mysteries

2010-01-06T18:50:00.003-05:00

What is it about mysteries that is so compelling? I love mysteries. I'm not talking about Nancy Drew. I mean real mysteries, ones that don't have a definite answer but spark all kinds of theories of possibilities. Like what happened to Amelia Earhart? Or Anastasia Romanov? What really happened to the Lindbergh baby?

I have no explanation for why these and other mysteries capture my attention. They just do. For some reason the unexplainable just begs to be explored and calls to something deep within, imploring me to search it out.

Generally, I don't have the time to indulge in reading literature on theories exposing what may have happened. However, there's a greater mystery than such inconsequential puzzles as these that is begging to be searched out and known. A mystery that may not be fully understood on earth and possibly never will be completely explained.

That their hearts may be encouraged, having been knit together in love, and attaining to all the wealth that comes from the full assurance of understanding, resulting in a true knowledge of God's mystery, that is, Christ Himself, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Colossians 2:2,3, NASB

By common confession, great is the mystery of godliness:
He who was revealed in the flesh,
Was vindicated in the Spirit,
Seen by angels,
Proclaimed among the nations,
Believed on in the world,
Taken up in glory.
1 Timothy 3:16, NASB

"This is the mystery into which angels desire to look. They desire to know how Christ could live and work in a fallen world, how He could mingle with sinful humanity. It was a mystery to them that He who hated sin with intense hatred felt the most tender, compassionate sympathy for the beings that committed sin" (ST Jan. 20, 1898).

It may ever remain a mystery to me how God could love such a flawed, failing, and faithless creature as myself. And yet I am determined to explore it. Because to know this, to come closer to understanding this mystery, is to know God in all His love.

Jabez's Prayer and Mine

2009-12-29T02:15:00.000-05:00

*Verses in italics taken from 1 Chronicles 4:9,10

I've not studied the prayer of Jabez much before, but it intrigues me. It seems slightly random in the midst of a long genealogy, which implies to me that it must have great significance, important enough to interrupt what was being written.

Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, 'Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.'

God has many names. Maybe this isn't significant, but I find it interesting that Jabez cried out to the God of Israel. Not the Lord Almighty, but God of Israel. Jabez made it personal; he cried out to the God of his heritage, the God who made a covenant with his ancestor, Israel.

I like his request also. He asks for God's blessing, for life abundant, but what's more is that he solicits God's presence-- Let your hand be with me.

But the most interesting part to me is Jabez's last petition-- and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain. The reason this means so much has to do with Jabez's name. Jabez is very similar to the Hebrew word for pain.

His mother had named him Jabez, saying, 'I gave birth to him in pain.'

Jabez's plea is to be free from pain, free from his born identity. In this request, I see Jabez's desire to be free from his past and his destined future from birth. Though his mother named him pain, Jabez wants a new name, a new future.

I, too, was born with an inherited name: Sinner. And like Jabez, I can cry out to the God of Israel, the God who made a covenant to redeem sinners and place enmity between sin and His children. I can entreat God to bless me with life abundant, to grace me with His presence, and to grant me freedom from sin.

And God granted [Jabez's] request.

"He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it." ~Revelation 2:17

Snow

2009-12-26T18:09:00.002-05:00

Peter, measuring the snow

Clark, camouflaged

Megan, mostly buried

Gilbert, stuck

A rather sad snowman, Tom

Grandaddy

Grandma

Cricket loves snow

But not that much...

It's ok, she got revenge :)

My favorite tree at home

Mom and me

Post Hoc

2009-12-12T23:29:00.002-05:00

This is directly stolen from Christen's Creative Writing blog. It makes me laugh, and I thought I would share because we could all use a laugh now and then. I love my roommate.

Kristin: So in statistics there are two post-hoc tests that we run. The first one is called Bonferroni, which sounds like some misfit type of pasta, and the second is the Tukey test, which always looks like "turkey" mispelled, and sounds like you're calling a toucan. "Here, tukey, tukey, tukey, tukey."

Christen: (laughing uncontrollably)

Truly Alive

2009-12-03T00:02:00.006-05:00

The world has lost a beautiful soul and a bright light for Christ. I went to Kirsten Wolcott's memorial service tonight and finally allowed what happened to sink in.

I didn't know her, but I wish I had. Every description given of Kirsten gave the impression of a young woman just bursting with life and love. She loved the outdoors, she was active, she was kind, cheerful, spontaneous, and full of adventure. I know that at memorial services, we tend to focus only on the positive, but I truly got the impression that Kirsten was a wholehearted servant of God who loved life and loved others.

As I sat there, I asked the question that everyone must have asked when they first heard the news. "God, why her?" But I asked for a different reason.

I didn't ask God why because Kirsten was a good person and awful things shouldn't happen to God's servants. I asked because it seemed like a strategically bad move to me on God's part in this great controversy. And I know deep down that God sees the beginning and the end; He has the whole picture already, and He knows best. But I couldn't help but think it for one reason. Because I asked God, "why not me?"

As I listened to the word pictures of who Kirsten was, I couldn't help but think that she had so much to offer the world. And the thought crossed my mind that her life sounds like a much better testimony of God than I feel that my life currently is. And so I thought, "God, why not me?"

But I realized that God has a plan in this mess, and I'm still here while Kirsten is resting from this sin-sick world. And it was at that point that I made a decision. It's a decision I've made before to be sure, so I suppose it was more of a re-commitment.

I want to be a light. I want my life to make a difference to every individual God places in my path. I want to be cheerful, uplifting, and vibrant for God. I want to make the most of this life that God has given me. Because I'm still here, and that must mean that God still has big plans for my life.

In honor of Kirsten, in honor of Kaleb, in honor of all God's beloved children laid to rest, I want to be truly alive in Christ.

Musings on Cleaning

2009-11-26T12:05:00.001-05:00

Every once in a while I go on a cleaning spree. I just get the overwhelming urge to do a thorough cleaning of everything. Today was one of those days. And I always feel so much better when I'm done. Everything looks so nice and orderly, and it smells of clean smells-- the pinesol kind, not the bleach kind.

I think perhaps I ought to try this with my life. I think every once in a while my heart deserves a thorough scrubbing; not just the daily surface clean, but a deep clean. I'm sure I would feel so much better afterward. And maybe my life would emanate a sweeter smell to my Jesus.

I miss my African family

2009-11-25T23:19:00.000-05:00

Home sweet hut

Pierre at work

Hawaa, proud of the family millet field

Innocent at clinicals

Bruno at home on the well

Berthe and me

Ruth (has one of the most beautiful smiles) and sweet Esther

Twister with the girls

Esther and ever confident Anne (one of my favorite pictures)

Little Dorcas

And spoiled baby Bezalel

Another beautiful African sunset

Sugar and Spice and Cranky Bears

2009-11-15T21:57:00.005-05:00

Christen shared this quote found on the box of the Throat Soothers tea that she so kindly offered me:

"A sore, scratchy throat can turn the most even-tempered soul into cranky bear."

Just in case there is any merit in this statement, I'm off to bed after my cup of tea in the hopes of taming this possibly cranky bear back into a sweet-tempered girl.

[Un]pleasantries

2009-11-14T23:55:00.003-05:00

After posting this, I realized that it could use a bit of explanation. I debated on whether or not to expound and decided perhaps I ought. This is not directed at any particular person. It is expressing a general dislike for the deterioration of friendships.

"How are you?"

You make the polite inquiry.

I reply in like fashion, and

The empty conversation flows

For about five minutes.

We once talked for hours.

But times have changed--

We sprang forward

Only to fall back again.

Now you're wrapping things up;

Soon you'll walk away,

And I'm sorry to say,

I'm not pleased to make your acquaintance.

2009-11-09T11:20:00.001-05:00

"Every act of life is a revelation of character" ~PK, p. 218

Feeling...

2009-11-04T20:32:00.001-05:00

... incongruous. I'm sitting here in the student center in my traditional Tchadian dress with my laptop and wireless internet. Earlier today, in the same garb, as I was talking on my cell phone with perfect clarity and no sound delay, I felt almost like an impostor-- like I was claiming two cultures at once.

It makes me think of another very similar inconsistency in my life that I don't as often recognize.

For our citizenship is in heaven, from which also we eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.

Strange Business

2009-11-04T18:49:00.005-05:00

I had a very strange voicemail message on my phone earlier this afternoon. It left me quite perplexed. The number from the missed call was the same area code as my hometown, but I didn't recognize it. So I listened to my voicemail in which a nice lady informed me that she was calling about scheduling me for a first interview.

I, not having ever applied for any positions near home, was sure there had to be some mix-up. So I called the nice lady back.

"This is Vivian*."

"Hi, my name is Kristin. I received a call about an interview?" I asked in uncertain tones.

"Yes, we'd like to schedule you for a first interview."

"Oh. What is the name of your company?"

"Banker's Life," she replied, as if there were nothing in the world wrong with the fact that I, the supposed applicant, hadn't a clue as to the name of the company.

"Well, I'm just slightly confused," I began slowly. "I don't actually ever remember applying for a position with your company."

"What's your email address?"

Following a brief period of confusion at the randomness of the question, I proceeded to tell Vivian my email address when she explained to me that sometimes they get resumés from a site online, and if she can look up my email address she can tell if I applied or if her company found my resumé online.

Sure enough, I had never applied. My resumé was somehow chosen from an online database of resumés that I had never heard of. I wasn't even aware that those sites existed until that very moment, in fact.

"Well, we'd really like to get you scheduled for your first interview, and we have an opening this Monday," she said enthusiastically.

"Well, you see, I'm actually in school in Tennessee to finish my nursing degree. So, I'm not really interested in a position with your company at this time. But thank you anyway."

Two things: I'm not sure how my resumé is floating around on some site that I never gave permission to advertise my information, and I find it unfortunate that I received a call for a job I never applied for, and can't for the life of me seem to get a call back on the many positions that I have applied for. But at the end of the day, I remind myself that if God wanted me to have a job right now, He would provide it.

*Name changed

Sweet Dreams

2009-10-29T15:57:00.001-04:00

Warning: this blog is completely random. But I had to share.

This morning when I woke up, I was thoroughly perplexed. I woke up from a dream in which I had returned to Tchad to visit. In my dream I was overwhelmingly joyed (is that a word?) at the prospect of being there, and I was just soaking it all in. It was nighttime in my dream and all the patients in the hospital were getting ready to go to sleep, and I was going to sleep there with them. So I went around to each patient and began talking to them, playing with the children a little. One small child of about 2 years old kept trying to escape and run out the door, so I kindly returned her to her parents and gently admonished her not to escape. Here's the really cool part of this whole dream: I was dreaming in French. I was speaking to them in French in my dream. How random is that?

Thoroughly Rebuked

2009-10-26T21:48:00.001-04:00

This semester has been a challenging one in many ways, both related and unrelated to school. However, tonight as I was reading in Ministry of Healing for one of my classes, I was inspired and thoroughly rebuked by one particular chapter I read. I would highly recommend any and all of you to read it (entitled "Mind Cure"). Here are some quotes that really struck deep in my heart. If you don't have the time to read all of these quotes, or the chapter in Ministry of Healing, at least read the last quote.

For every trial, God has provided help. (Note the verb tense)

Song is a weapon that we can always use against discouragement.

We are not to let the future, with its hard problems, its unsatisfying prospects, make our hearts faint, our knees tremble, our hands hang down. "Let him take hold of My strength," says the Mighty One, "that he may make peace with Me; and he shall make peace with Me." Isaiah 27:5. Those who surrender their lives to His guidance and to His service will never be placed in a position for which He has not made provision.

In the way that leads to the City of God there are no difficulties which those who trust in Him may not overcome. There are no dangers which they may not escape. There is not a sorrow, not a grievance, not a human weakness, for which He has not provided a remedy.

We are not to dwell on the great power of Satan to overcome us. Often we give ourselves into his hands by talking of his power. Let us talk instead of the great power of God to bind up all our interests with His own. Tell of the matchless power of Christ, and speak of His glory.

If we are heaven-bound, how can we go as a band of mourners, groaning and complaining all along the way to our Father's house? (This quote in particular I felt to be a direct rebuke to myself. I have been overwhelmingly negative this semester, and I would like to ask each of my friends a favor-- that if you ever hear me complaining or being negative, please stop me, mid-sentence if necessary, and tell me to think of something to praise my God for.)

While words express thoughts, it is also true that thoughts follow words. If we would give more expression to our faith, rejoice more in the blessings that we know we have,-- the great mercy and love of God,-- we should have more faith and greater joy.

"In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." 1 Thessalonians 5:18. This command is an assurance that even the things which appear to be against us will work for our good. God would not bid us be thankful for that which would do us harm.

Pygmalion Effect

2009-10-15T21:02:00.005-04:00

A few weeks ago I had nursing clinicals at a high school in downtown Chattanooga. I, along with two other girls, was going to teach certain health topics to 9th and 10th graders in the JROTC program. My experience there was not at all what I had expected.

We taught to three different sections of students, all with the same retired naval officer for a teacher. The teacher was quite hospitable to us in his classroom, offering to do whatever he could to help us get set up. However, he also "helped" us by warning us about different kids and classes that we would be in charge of teaching.

"Oh, ya'll are talking about drugs and alcohol? You'll see one girl who's a fetal alcohol syndrome kid, and you'll see some crack babies too. See if you can guess who they are and then I'll tell you."

I was uncomfortable with him sharing this information, and rather irked that he would even mention something like that. What do I need to know that for? And why should it matter?

The day continued, speckled with these harsh comments and informatives.

"Aww, he don't know nothin' don't listen to him."

"Ya'll are talking about pills? Oh, he can tell you all about that."

And these were just the comments directed toward me and my fellow nursing classmates, to make no mention of the comments he directed towards his students, and all in plain hearing of the entire classroom.

By the end of the day, I could feel the anger inside me rising with each painful jab he made. I thought of those teens; most of them are faced with the same degrading, faithless remarks day after day after day from their family, their friends, and their teachers. Every day, it is impressed further upon their minds that they are worthless and will never amount to anything. And I couldn't help but think that I was sitting in the midst of a classroom full of nearly lost potential. I was seeing the Pygmalion effect in action. These students were living up to exactly what was expected of them-- nothing more and nothing less.

My fellow nursing classmates and I did our very best to treat them with the exact opposite attitude of their teacher. But that was just one day of their lives. I couldn't help but be saddened at the thought of the prospects of their lives if this cycle continues. And I pray that God intervenes to bring them out of the pits that Satan has dug them into.

But in thinking of all this, I was relieved to know that there is One who has full faith in each of our potentials. God expects great things of each of us, and I hope that we can each see the expectations that He has of us. Because in the end, the majority of people will be what they feel they are expected to be.

High Time for an Insouciant Post

2009-10-04T09:38:00.007-04:00

In our humble Poplar apartment, a silent, subtle battle is being waged-- The Battle of Arthur Mestat.

Upon entrance into our abode, I occasion to sense the cold chill and promptly persuade Arthur Mestat to my side. The temperature rises, and though slight in degree, the change is noticeable to me. I settle down, somewhat cozied and comforted at the thought of having won dear Arthur. Until my next leave of absence, in which the opposition regains Arthur Mestat's sway, and the crisp coolness settles over the apartment once more.

With the frost of autumn and winter fast approaching, it is to be hoped that soon this battle will be ended. It is to be hoped that soon Arthur Mestat will be permanently persuaded to remain faithful to my cause, and perhaps my opposition will see the light as well. This is my ambitious conquest for these autumn and winter seasons.

Even If a Humble Toe

2009-09-24T21:12:00.003-04:00

"For as the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members of that one body, being many, are one body: so also is Christ. If the whole body were an eye, where were the hearing? If the whole were hearing, where were the smelling? But now hath God set the members every one of them in the body, as it hath pleased him. And if they were all one member, where were the body? But now are they many members, yet but one body." ~1 Corinthians 12:12, 18-20.

Lately, I think I've been slightly discontent with who I am, and have been wishing to be otherwise in some way or another. But tonight God is reminding me that He is the Master Creator behind this unique reflection of His image. He has placed me in the body of Christ exactly where He wants me to be and in the capacity He sees fit, "as it hath pleased him."

May I live my life to please and glorify You. Vivere vix Deus.

Come Away

2009-09-12T21:53:00.007-04:00

Once again, my God is good. Somehow in the midst of this weekend that was supposed to rejuvenate me and help me learn to cope with reverse culture shock (which I think I'm only very mildly experiencing), Satan found his way in. Much of this day, he's been whispering lies of inadequacy and insignificance in my head, and I believed him.

Upon my return to my apartment, I decided I was not ready to enter. I needed to come away a while and spend some more time with my God. He had some lies to set straight, and some reassurance to give me. So I found a patch of grass that looked inviting, laid down and talked to God.

Have you ever just really, desperately felt a need to feel and know God's Presence is with you? As I laid there, I knew in my head that God was right there with me. I knew it because He's promised never to leave me nor forsake me. But my heart was wanting to doubt. I prayed and prayed that God would let me know He was near; I prayed that God would remind me somehow of how very much I am loved. I knew in my head that God has blessed me with some of the most amazing friends, and I know that they care about me, but I was feeling alone and insignificant (it's part of the curse of being an F rather than a T; I can't even reason with myself sometimes).

So I waited in silence. No great gust of wind came. There was no flash of lightning in the sky. But after a few minutes, the thought came to me, "Start walking." I was disappointed. I didn't want to leave that place without a reassurance. But I got up and started walking toward my apartment. As I came to the crosswalk, I saw a familiar face driving by. It was Jen. She stopped and began to talk to me.

"Do you want to talk for a bit?" she asked. Apparently I'm not particularly skilled at hiding my emotions (again, the curse of the F). At first I told her that I really shouldn't; I ought to go back to my apartment.

"Are you sure?" she persisted.

I was about to resist again, when I thought, "How ridiculous am I?" Here I'd just finished praying to God and telling Him how alone and uncared for I was feeling at the moment, and I was about to reject an opportunity to spend some time with a good friend who wanted to show that she cared.

I got in the car, and we just drove around a bit. Talked a little. Mostly sat in silence. But it was just what I needed at the moment.

And so I'm ever so grateful for good friends, and even more for a God who loves me enough to orchestrate divine appointments and to provide just what I need when I need it. I pray that I will learn more and more to have faith in God's love even when I don't necessarily feel it.

I walk to the meadow, and stare at the flowers-
Better dressed than any girl on her wedding day.
So why do I worry? Why do I freak out?
God knows what I need, You know what I need.

Surrender

2009-09-05T15:42:00.002-04:00

My hands hold safely to my dreams
Clutching tightly not one has fallen.
So many years I’ve shaped each one
Reflecting my heart, showing who I am.
Now You’re asking me to show
What I’m holding oh so tightly.
Can’t open my hands, can’t let go
Does it matter?
Should I show You?
Can’t You let me go?

Surrender, surrender
You whisper gently
You say I will be free
I know but can’t You see
My dreams are me, my dreams are me.

Say You have a plan for me,
And that You want the best for my life.
Told me the world had yet to see
What You can do with one
That’s committed to Your call.
I know of course what I should do
That I can’t hold these dreams forever.
But if I give them now to You
Will You take them
Away forever?
Or can I dream again?

Surrender, surrender
You whisper gently
You say I will be free
I know but can’t You see
My dreams are me, my dreams are me.

~BarlowGirl

Blessings of Time

2009-09-01T17:31:00.004-04:00

Today God is teaching me a comforting lesson. I say "is teaching" because I'm still trying to completely let go of my anxiety. Sometimes I don't understand why it's so hard for me to trust and rely on God when He gives me such obvious evidence of His supremacy over all time and circumstances. But I suppose I'm an Israelite at heart.

I'm trying to incorporate a consistent exercise schedule into my life this year at Southern. Being in Africa and losing my ability to stay physically active and healthy has given me a huge appreciation for my health and fitness. This morning, I was a little late in getting up to go running, but instead of rushing through my devotions to make sure I could fit everything in, I made a conscious effort to take my time and focus on devotions that I could receive the full blessing God had in store for me this morning.

When I got back from running, I realized that it was going to be a scramble to shower, dress, and eat before walking over to class. So I hurried. But I've hurried before, and I've never gotten ready as quickly as I did this morning. The amazing thing is, while quickly getting ready this morning, I didn't feel particularly rushed. I didn't inhale my food, though I ate quickly. I still made sure that my hair was presentable (Christy, you would be proud of how quickly a state of presentable was achieved). I didn't bolt out the door and forget anything I needed. In fact, I left earlier today than I was able to yesterday, and made it to class with several minutes to spare.

This morning God not only blessed me with His word, but He blessed me with a gift of time. Because I had chosen to honor God and be a good steward of the time He had given me, He saw fit to bless me with more.

What does this have to do with the lesson God is teaching me? Well, I'm taking a slightly more than full load of classes. In going over the syllabi for each of my classes, I've felt more and more overwhelmed with the amount of clinicals, projects and papers I will have to write. On top of that, I might be petitioning to add another class to my load along with a job. All of these circumstances have caused me to feel a sense of panic rising in me. But each time today that I've begun to feel panicked or overwhelmed, God has reminded me that He is Lord over all time, and that if I'm following in the way that He's leading, He is taking care of me and will continue to do so.

I've been reading in Patriarchs and Prophets, and recently read about the Israelites and the golden calf. Ellen White writes of how grave the sin of the golden calf was, and especially because they did it while at the base of Mt. Sinai in the very presence of the cloud of God's glory. While there was a huge cloud and thunder covering Mt. Sinai in plain sight, the Israelites betrayed the very God who saved them and made himself known to them just a few weeks before. When I read things like that, I'm astounded at the Israelites' feeble faith, and yet I do the same thing day after day when I worry about life's troubles.

Especially in the past few weeks, God has shown Himself faithful to me in even the smallest details, and has reassured me in tangible ways that He is taking care of me. And here I sit, anxious about tomorrow before it even arrives.

God give me faith to believe that I might not break Your heart with my distrust. Matthew 6:25-34.

Evening on a Porch Swing

2009-08-28T23:07:00.006-04:00

We sat together in silence on the porch swing, my feet dangling as he rocked us gently with his feet firmly planted on the deck.

"You have such pretty feet. So small and delicate," he broke the quiet.

"That's funny, I've never been particularly fond of my feet."

"Why not?" his level voice challenged my dismissal of his compliment.

"They have so many scars on them. I don't think that's very beautiful," I equaled his tone and our banter began.

The swing halted. "You know, the most beautiful Man in the universe has scars on his feet."

"Yeah, but at least the scars on His feet tell of a noble act. An act of love. All my scars can boast is foolishness and failure."

Silence settled over us as the swing commenced swaying again. I rested my back against the back of the swing, confident of my victory.

"Well. That may be true," he started once more. "But that's what makes the scars on his feet all the more beautiful."

"What do you mean?"

"His scars of love are permanent so that our scars of foolishness and failure don't have to be."

Wonderings: An Abridged Version

2009-08-21T20:56:00.007-04:00

The following are some questions that I've contemplated within the past few months. Several of these questions have sparked rather interesting discussions. I've also enjoyed hearing some of my friends' answers to a few of these questions because it has given me some insight into their priorities and values. In any case, I'm putting them out here. I'd love to hear answers to any or all of the questions here if you care to share (either anonymously or under your name). Or, if you don't feel like sharing your answers, I hope that you enjoy an opportunity to exercise some introspection.

What is the biggest compliment anyone has ever paid you?

(I'm stealing this next one; a friend of mine asked me once, and I enjoyed the discussion it brought about) Who are two of your favorite Bible characters, and why? Or, what are two of your favorite Bible stories, and why?

What does your name mean? Do you think that it's fitting for you?

If there were one thing you want people to say about you, one thing that you want people to see about the way you live life, what would it be?

There are many reasons that people get married; what, primarily, is the reason that you would want to get married someday?

What are your spiritual gifts? I know, that's a really direct and difficult question. For a long time I didn't think I had any, at least not any I could think of. So I prayed and asked God to show me what my spiritual gift was. I think when we force ourselves to think about and make ourselves aware of what our spiritual gifts are, we're more likely to be intentional about using them.

What is your goal in life? What would be your ideal lifework? I feel that this question must be qualified; most people who read my blog would say something along the lines of wanting to do whatever is God's will for their life. So, if you would like, you can read that as, what is your dream for how you would like to serve God? I believe God has given us each different talents, goals, and visions for how to best serve Him; what are yours?

Sabbath Canoe Trip

2009-08-19T15:30:00.010-04:00

Moose Pond

2009-08-18T22:32:00.022-04:00

Christy and I had a day off together this summer. Just one. So we decided to do something different; instead of hiking a high peak, we chose a lovely little flat hike to Moose Pond. The description to find the trailhead was quite specific: There is a footbridge that is clearly visible from the road. An old road descends for about 200 yards between fences.

We found a nice bridge clearly visible from the road, pulled off in the designated area and our adventure began. Christy commented, "That's odd that there's a gate barring the path," as we climbed over. We also saw no fences and the trailhead began about 10 feet from the road rather than 200 yards, but how accurate are those guide books really? A few feet in, Christy noticed a small sign mostly covered by tall grass: No Trespassing. So we pressed on.

Not too far into our hike, we were thronged by a vast host of famished mosquitoes, and our trail quickly opened up into a small cleared field that looked like a somewhat abandoned garden. And there was an old tractor. We went a little further on the trail that we found on the other side of the clearing and finally decided that this couldn't be the trail to Moose Pond and if it was, then it wasn't worth hiking.

We ran back to escape the plague of mosquitoes, got in the car and decided to try to look for the trailhead again. Out came the guide book for a consultation. This yielded the result of finding another pull off, but no footbridge in sight. We decided to explore anyway. As we walked down the old dirt road between two fences, we finally caught a glimpse of our footbridge.

Somewhere amidst those trees is our footbridge that is "clearly visible from the road"

The footbridge

After that the hike itself was rather uneventful except for Christy slapping my back every three seconds to kill the vampire mosquitoes on my neck. Our trail ended at Moose Pond where we spent some time relaxing on the rocks and enjoying the pond. We saw a loon land on the pond, and then we saw an elderly couple come by in their fishing boat. They told us about a beaver that had been following them, so we watched for it to come by.

The Loch Ness Mons-- umm beaver

And that was the end of our hiking adventure. After hiking, we went into Saranac Lake to visit some of the little shops. We ended up talking to a photographer in his studio (see Christy's Blog) and a painter in her studio. Great fun was had by all.

Random truck we were following

Oh, and I almost forgot. The night before our hike, we went out on the lake and Christy and Joel wakeboarded, which I only wanted to mention so I could have an excuse to post some pictures.

Me and Becky

2009-08-11T17:04:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago, during Adventure week at camp, I had the privilege of having a camper in my cabin that taught me a lot. Her name is Becky. She has Asperger's Syndrome, and thus we had a lot of ups and downs throughout the week.

Sometimes Becky was super excited. Thrilled. With whatever we were doing. Other times she was at the extreme opposite end of excited. Many times she would be close to tears because we were doing something that she didn't want to do, such as cleaning our cabin or our cleaning assignment for the day. When this happened, Emily or I would take her aside and talk to her, using various techniques- distraction, making a game out of the cleaning, reasoning with her, and things like that. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't.

The first night that Emily and I took our girls to the bathhouse to take their showers, it was a battle. Becky didn't want to take a shower because she was afraid that the water would hurt. We reasoned, we coaxed, we did everything we could think of. Finally, Emily decided to sing with her. They sang songs that we had been singing at worship, and Becky was fine. She finished her shower with no more tears. On Emily's night off, we went to the bathhouse again. All day long, I had been wondering how things were going to go, and when it was time to go for showers I talked to Becky and said, "Becky, we get to go sing in the showers now! We're going to have a shower party!" I expected resistance, but was shocked. She got in the shower, and was done in record time with absolutely no complaints. When Emily got back from her day off, Becky excitedly told her, "Emily, I took a shower. And I did it all by myself!" She exuded pride as she said this. And I was proud of her too.

We did this with many things. One day while picking up trash around campus for our morning cleaning assignment, Becky was crying and complaining about picking up trash. I held her hand, and we walked together. I made a game out of it. Suddenly, Becky wasn't crying. On occasion she would give a half-hearted complaint, but that was it.

Sometimes, unfortunately, what worked best was just making her look me in the eyes and telling her that we were done with crying. Then I would hug her, and we would move on.

All week long I was given many opportunities to practice patience and creativity. But it was so rewarding. Toward the end of the week, Becky had begun to change. We still had some rough spots, but for the most part things were smooth. She got to the point where she would come up to Emily or me and put her arms around us, or hug us, or lay her head on our shoulders.

One of Becky's biggest problems was lagging behind or wandering. Countless times, I would find myself saying, "Come on Becky! Let's go." Often I would have to take her by the hand, or walk by her side to get her to keep up with the group. Each time I said, "Come on Becky," a song would come to mind. It was stuck in my head all week long. And God used it to remind me, that so often I am just like Becky. God has to keep coaxing me along, often taking me by the hand, so to speak. And I pray that like Becky, I will respond to God's love and patience with love in return.

Becky loves Jesus and really wants to make him proud,
She tears up in church and she sings her harmonies loud...

So come on Becky, let's go for a ride
If I'm driving too fast then I apologize...

My Constant, My Comfort

2009-07-17T11:58:00.000-04:00

Change and decay in all around I see
Oh, Thou who changest not, abide with me.

As I sang these words for my morning worship, I had a thought. Not anything profound, not even anything necessarily new, but rather something comforting.

God is the only constant in our lives besides change itself. In a world where the majority of people have difficulty with change, possibly even very much dislike change, how comforting to know that there is a God who is ever the same. He is the God who was, and is, and is to come, Eternal Father, the Constant Companion who promises never to stop loving us, never to change.

Healing Prison

2009-07-17T11:27:00.003-04:00

On Wednesday morning this week, I was highly upset. Tuesday night I had convinced myself that I would be able to get out of the hospital and back to camp. My heart was set on it. But the next morning when the nurse told me that my hemoglobin had dropped again, I knew I wasn't going anywhere. I was highly upset; I even cried a little bit, foolish as it might sound. I was so frustrated with my body for not recovering quickly, for not bouncing right back. I was so tired of being sick, so tired of just not being able to kick this crazy bug. And I was frustrated with God.

"God, we've all been praying so hard. I don't understand; why do you grant healing sometimes, and withhold it other times? What good is it doing anybody for me to be stuck here any longer? God, why are you saying no to my prayers? Is there something I've done that I need to confess that's blocking me from you? Why do I feel like my prayers are ineffective?"

Thankfully, God knew my frustration and my low spirits, and He sent me extra visitors that day. I've been blessed to have my friends from camp come to visit me every day that I've been in the hospital, but on Wednesday, I had visitors come three different times throughout the day, and it really lifted my spirits.

I didn't actually do a whole lot on Wednesday, except that I spent an awful lot of time thinking and reflecting on various topics. One of the things I thought about was being stuck in the hospital, and how sometimes that's how life is. Sometimes God places us in healing prisons-- situations that He doesn't take us out of that are frustrating, painful, upsetting, but ultimately healing. We don't always understand why, maybe we only partially understand, and sometimes we might not even see how it's healing at all, but God is faithful, God is love, and trusting Him means trusting that He's not going to allow situations that He can't use for good in some way.

I still probably don't know all the reasons that I've ended up staying in the hospital longer than I hoped, but I have figured out at least one. Later on Wednesday, I developed a fever again. And I realized that if I had gone back to camp and gotten a fever, I would have been a little bit scared, thinking that I wasn't responding to treatment after all, or maybe the diagnosis was wrong, and it just would have been a slightly frightening experience. God saved me from that; I was able to talk to the doctor when I got a fever, to be reassured that things were going to be alright. Again, I don't know all the reasons, but once again, through a new experience, God is teaching me to trust. He is teaching me to be still and know that He is God.

Ever the Optimist

2009-07-15T10:18:00.005-04:00

Sometimes I wish I weren't such an optimist. Here's a general scenario, a short vignette of what most often happens:

I have two options- be optimistically hopeful about an outcome, or be groundedly pessimistic. I choose to hope, no matter what the odds. My optimism is dashed against the rocks and hope disappoints.

Sometimes, I've tried desperately not to be optimistic. On occasion, I will try to be reasonable and tell myself, "Kristin, it's not likely. Don't get your hopes up because the chances are slim to none." But all the while I'm lecturing myself in my head, deep down, I can't help myself. I hope.

As far as I know, optimism is stereotypically seen in a good light-- the lighthearted, happy, effervescent twin-- while pessimism is cast out as the gloomy, dull, sober, bad twin. I'm beginning to differ from my previous conceptions of optimism and pessimism. I think both have a time and a place. And I'm really beginning to wonder if optimism is all it's built up to be.

That's not to say that I should never be optimistic. But I guess at the moment I'm just burnt out on hope. I'm tired of being ever hopeful just to be let down. It seems the more I hope, the harder I have to fall back down to reality. I have more thoughts on this particular subject, but I think for now my reflections will stay mine alone.

Having said all that, I do know with certainty that there is one area in which I can ever be the optimist without fear of disappointment. And for that I am incredibly grateful.

"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. . . And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. . . And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." ~Romans 5:1-5

"Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus. . . Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful." ~Hebrews 10:19,23

Glorious Displays

2009-07-06T11:28:00.009-04:00

I really enjoy fireworks. Dark skies lit up with brilliant bursts of color, unexpected extra explosions of light and sound, and best of all, the deep rumbling of the finale.

On Saturday night, some friends from camp and I went out to see the fireworks over Saranac Lake. It was a fun experience, especially because I haven't been able to see fireworks for the past few years. We enjoyed each others' company and oohed and aahed at the variety of fireworks shot up into the sky.

I stood on the bank and watched with excitement as the finale began. Roman candles spouted off continuously in bright colors while rockets climbed high and burst into showering blues, reds, and whites, echoing across the lake with loud booms you could feel. As I stood there, feeling the rumblings of the explosions, I thought to myself, "If this man-made display of color and sound can excite me, how much more thrilling it will be when Jesus comes."

Think about it. Hearing the loud boom, seeing the bright colors, and feeling the rumble deep inside when fireworks explode seems to set off a little extra adrenaline and you can just sense the excitement of it. But this is not even a mere shadow of what we will experience when Jesus comes in the clouds.

"And I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse; and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth judge and make war. His eyes were as a flame of fire, and on his head were many crowns; and he had a name written, that no man knew, but he himself. And he was clothed with a vesture dipped in blood: and his name is called The Word of God. And the armies which were in heaven followed him upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean. And out of his mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with it he should smite the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod of iron: and he treadeth the winepress of the fierceness and wrath of Almighty God. And he hath on his vesture and on his thigh a name written, KING OF KINGS, AND LORD OF LORDS." Revelation 19:11-16

"For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord." 1 Thessalonians 4:16,17

"At that time the sign of the Son of Man will appear in the sky, and all the nations of the earth will mourn. They will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of the sky, with power and great glory. And he will send his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of the heavens to the other." Matthew 24:30,31

Witness

2009-07-06T11:23:00.003-04:00

I won't give in this time.
This time will be different.

My words float heavenward
From my upturned lips
As I
Fall down

Again

Satan adds a mark--
Another line on his chalkboard
To testify.

But I,
Through tear-stained face,
Take God's hand to
Stand up

Again

My Judge erases
The Accuser's smirk and my mark
To testify.

Backfire

2009-06-11T14:52:00.010-04:00

I called Wendy Roberts today to talk and let her know that she has a host of people praying for her and her family. She told me that they appreciate the prayers so much. Please continue to pray for her and the whole family, that God will give them the strength to keep going as the days keep coming. I want to share some of what she said.

As I talked with her about Kaleb and how she was doing, she told me, "I just hope that this is a witness to the people here. It's really hit them hard. They think that we're somehow immune to their problems, and now I hope they can see that we're not." Just as Jesus lived among men and experienced what we experience, the Roberts family is living among the Chadians, experiencing their hardships, and relating to them. And it will be a witness, I'm sure it already has been.

Kaleb coloring with Mbai, a patient

"And I hope that Kaleb will have many stars on his crown because of it," Wendy said through her tears, "I want this to bring glory to God; that's what Kaleb would have wanted."

When I asked her how Cherise, their 2 year old, was doing, she said that Cherise didn't understand until the casket went into the ground and they started piling dirt on top. Cherise said, "Mommy, I don't like that." And Wendy replied, "I don't either, honey." Then Wendy explained again to Cherise that they wouldn't see Kaleb again until Jesus comes. Since then, Cherise keeps telling Wendy, "Mommy, Jesus is going to come soon and say, 'Kaleb, wake up!'"

That's the kind of kids Gary and Wendy have raised.

I remember having family worship with them one weekend; Kaleb liked to sing I'm in the Lord's Army and With Jesus in the Family. Both Kaleb and Cherise loved to listen to their Bible stories for worship every night.

Once again, Satan's scheme has backfired and pulled the ground out from under him. In the times of the early apostolic church, Satan persecuted believers mercilessly. His intent, I'm sure, was to stomp out the blaze that Jesus had started; instead, Satan unwittingly spread it like wildfire. Likewise, I'm sure that in attacking God's missionaries, Gary and Wendy, his intentions were cruel- to knock the air out of their chests and send them reeling out of the mission field. But as Gary and Wendy have turned Kaleb's death into a testimony against Satan's depravity and continue to work and testify for God, I'm afraid Satan's small victory has been transformed into yet another defeat.

My prayer is that I may learn to live my life as a testimony like Gary and Wendy's lives, and that by my every action, Satan's plans may backfire. And it will be my prayer until Jesus comes again and wakes up all the ones we've loved and lost.

For Kaleb

2009-06-10T18:22:00.009-04:00

I just got an email from Dr. James in Bere. As soon as I began to read, I knew it in my gut: he was gone, they couldn't save him.

It's one of those things that seems so unreal, like a bad dream that you just know you're going to wake up from at any moment. But you don't.

It's funny how we offer words of solace for those who have lost someone dear, but when it's your turn to receive those words, they only sound hollow and are unable to touch the aching in your heart.

But as I sit and question, "God, why Kaleb?" I do so knowing deep down that God knows best. I do so knowing that while words can never cure the heartache, He can. And so I pray to the God of all comfort to ease the pain until He can wipe the tears from our eyes.

Please pray for the Roberts family-- Gary, Wendy, and their 2 year old, Cherise. I can't even begin to imagine how much they're hurting right now.

"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.'"

Come quickly, Jesus.

More Opinions Please

2009-06-09T11:28:00.002-04:00

This post is not related to the previous one. I think I will start a prayer chain blog, and if you'd like to be involved in posting things, just email me or comment and I'll add you as an administrator. However, I'm not sure when I'll get it started...

What I would like some opinions on is actually a Bible passage. I've read it before, and not thought much about it, but this past year, one of the local Adventist church members in Bere brought it up in Sabbath school. Once again, I had pushed it aside, but when I came across it again today, I thought that perhaps it would be nice to see what other people think and to do some studying on it myself. I'm wondering particularly about verses 11-15, but I thought I'd include the whole chapter for a little context.

Some of my questions I'd like to hear your opinions on are: Should women lead out in Sabbath school or church services? What should be the extent of women's involvement in church? Should women be allowed a voice in Sabbath school discussions and Bible studies? What is a woman's role in the church community? And what does Paul mean when he says that 'women will be saved through childbearing'?

I'm also happy to receive any other comments related to anything in the following passage.

1 Timothy 2

Instructions on Worship

¹I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone— ²for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. ³This is good, and pleases God our Savior, ⁴who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth. ⁵For there is one God and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, ⁶who gave himself as a ransom for all men—the testimony given in its proper time. ⁷And for this purpose I was appointed a herald and an apostle—I am telling the truth, I am not lying—and a teacher of the true faith to the Gentiles.

⁸I want men everywhere to lift up holy hands in prayer, without anger or disputing.

⁹I also want women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, ¹⁰but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God.

¹¹A woman should learn in quietness and full submission. ¹²I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she must be silent. ¹³For Adam was formed first, then Eve. ¹⁴And Adam was not the one deceived; it was the woman who was deceived and became a sinner. ¹⁵But women will be saved through childbearing—if they continue in faith, love and holiness with propriety.