The Paradox

So I was walking out of the grocery store the other day, a beautifully bright and cheery fall day. I was pondering life, naturally, as any normal 20-something year old would do. I frequently ponder life as I wander up and down the grocery aisles because it is there that I am acutely aware of the big change of 2013: my life with a budget.

And my goal of debt-free by 4-16-14.

Eating and baking and fashion and social entertainment and "necessities" have all been put under a microscope the past year after graduating from FPU. Some areas are easy to put out of my mind, like clothes shopping for instance. If I don't go into the store, I am not tempted to buy things. One has to eat, however, so I continue to buy food. But it looks a lot different than it used to. I have taken to eating a dish that my roommate and I lovingly call FBU (Financial Bean University) - a delightful concoction of beans, veggies, rice and tomato sauce.

Super cheap.

And interestingly, super healthy. Admittedly, I didn't embrace this right away. It's taken months to break down the expectations, habits, desires. But they have changed. And they won't always remain what they are today. One day they will be able to evolve again.

It was in this pondering of life and food and money that this thought hit me: my future is so incredibly unknown.

In a good way.

But it hit me starkly as the close of another year approaches and I near the entrance into a new decade of life. At several points in the past 15 years, you could have asked me what my future held and I would have given you a fairly confident answer. But now?

Not
a
clue.

And you know what? I am totally OK with that. Because the thought that immediately followed the first thought is this: I am so completely known by my heavenly Father.

It's a beautifully mysterious place to be. Full of twists and turns. The feeling is hard to describe. But I know it's wonderful. And requires a lot of trust. To be known means one has to be vulnerable. Not one of my favorite things to be. It can be painful. And takes time.

But worth it.

Worth the investment to share every part of me with the Father who created me. Worth the change in direction, the daily guidance of thoughts, fears, dreams, hopes.

I sense myself getting to a place of submission I've never been before. And it's a little bit scary. But then again, I have never felt more known. And He has never let me down.

So I trust.

And smile at a future that could truly hold anything.

A "Chance" Meeting

I had one of those experiences yesterday that you could only hope to have. An opportunity to provide emotional closure. A chance meeting you didn't know was coming and could only smile inside at the beautiful moment as it played out.

See most people think of the Labor & Delivery unit as the happiest place of the hospital. And oftentimes it is.

But sometimes it isn't.

Sometimes we are hit with tragedy so mind-numbing that no one can explain. A baby no longer alive inside. A baby that survives only a few minutes. And it happens more than people know. But those parents who experience it...they know. 

I got to know one particular set of parents experiencing this loss firsthand. I had the blessing of caring for them two days, a Wednesday and a Friday, a year ago May. I blogged about the first day, in fact. Read about it here as I explain how words are never enough. I remember several moments with them, but one stands out in particular. It was an embrace with the mother. I was helping her back from the bathroom, and she paused at the sink, swaying under the weight of the experience. I held her for what seemed like minutes, willing every ounce of my strength into her, her swollen belly making its painful presence known between us.

When you have experiences like that, you think about those couples often. Their faces etched in your memory forever. They will seem to appear in a crowd, and for a few moments you're lost in thought of where they are, how they are doing. Or you could actually see them, out and about, returning to a normal but changed life. 

That was the case with this couple. A few months after they experienced the loss of their beautiful baby girl, I saw the father at Walmart. He didn't see me, and I paused for a few moments debating about whether or not to say hello. 

Sometimes you don't want to spring memories on someone when they least expect it. I chose to walk away this time, not wanting to put him back in a moment if he wasn't ready. Instead I sent up prayers for him and his wife.

Months went by, over a year in fact.

And then yesterday, a coworker of mine was teaching a class to new nurse residents about our role in bereavement. She had invited some parents to come speak to the class about their experience. Unbeknownst to me, one of the mothers was this one I cared for. 

My coworker informed her I was at work that day and asked if she would like to see me. Her answer was a shaky yes as she recognized the emotion and memories it would usher in. But she resolved that, yes, she would like to see me.

My sweet coworker came to get me, and as we walked down the hall to her, I knew exactly who it was. 

After a quick hello, we embraced for a moment. Then, with arms still locked, she looked me in the eyes and, through tears, said the most beautiful things about the care she received from me. Words too precious for this screen, but they are forever etched on my heart.

I just kept thinking "She looks good. Really good." And she was strong, on the inside. You could see it in the softness and clarity of her eyes. 

She shared with me the baby book she had made of their daughter. It was filled with momentos, written thoughts and memories, poems, and pictures of their sweet girl. I went through page after page embracing the tender moment of getting to talk with her about her journey through grief and healing. And how she is taking this experience to other mothers in similar situations. Even in her native country of Costa Rica! Teaching and educating about the grief process and rejoicing in the life that once lived inside her.

We chatted about life now, updates on her family and husband. We embraced a few more times. An embrace that has come full circle. It seemed she was almost giving back some of the strength received so long ago, a reminder to me of the power of God's healing. And the dear meeting came to an end.

I walked away fighting back tears, a heart so grateful it throbbed inside of me.

Letter To Self.

Four years ago today I departed on one of the greatest adventures of my life. It inspired the start of this blog, actually.

Read about the start here and here.

The Milford Track, New Zealand

Bondi-Bronte beach walk, Sydney

Children's Shelter of Cebu, Philippines

It was a 5-month journey around the world. My self-proclaimed "honeymoon with God." A time to disconnect with the busyness of life and reconnect with soul.

Experience.

Learn.

Be.

On that journey, I wrote a letter to myself. I re-read it every once in awhile. It's a great heart check. And a great reminder for what that trip taught me. To commemorate the four years, I'm sharing that letter...


Dear Self,

Keep it simple.  Really simple.  God has brought you to NZ - a beautiful land - into His creation, far from home, far from loved ones, to show you some things.  

First off, nothing is to take precedence over time spent in prayer and in His Word.  On this trip, you have seen Scripture come to life.  Your love for Scripture has been kindled, or rekindled.  You pour over the words with an open heart, memorizing, underlining, making references, meditating.  Ultimately, longing to have these words written on your heart and incorporated in your life.  God’s word is chocked full of encouragement, instruction, warnings, truths, reminders.  It is the way you should live.  Continue to pour over it, daily, recognizing your need, your weakness, your willingness to submit and give your life to the One who gives life, the One who’s power is perfected in weakness.  You are nothing without Him.  He will not fail.  He will not forget you.  Your name is written in heaven, He knows the movements of your body, the thoughts in your mind, and He loves you more than you will ever be able to understand.  Let Him do His work in you.  

Secondly, remember what it feels like to be with the Lord.  To sit in His presence, completely known, surrendered, with a heart full of praise and hope.  Live each day like this - sitting with Him.  Praying without ceasing.  Keeping open the line of communication, always seeking and being joyful.  Never before in your life have you known Scripture as you do now.  Never before have you had the opportunity to spend each day with Him as you do now - away from a job, away from commitments.  Never before have you been filled and blessed in such a way.  Remember this blessing.  Take it with you as you enter back into the States, back into a life with a job, with a family, with friends.  Not many get an opportunity like this.  Don’t go spouting to everyone about how much of a changed person you are - they wouldn’t applaud anyway.  Just keep your eyes on Him and stay humble.  Live the change.  Be the change.  Give God the glory.

Early on in this trip you became aware of your increasing love for your family (or became aware of the love that was always there, it just needed uncovering).  You have always been part of a strong family, you’ve had years of creating memories to be cherished.  You’ve also had years of brokenness that are in need of restoration.  Be aware of this.  Be open to the restoration - don’t fight it, fight for it.  Rebuild these relationships, but also know they won’t ever be what they were...much has changed, we have grown and been stretched...the relationships can’t go back to what they were, they can only move forward and be greater than they were.  Speak honesty with your family.  Be kind and courageous.  Let them know what they mean to you.  God brought you around the world and revealed to you how much they mean to you.  He showed you you were so close to being home, yet so far.  You were unwilling to make a move for the pride within yourself.  You once said, “I’d love to live in Atlanta, but I don’t want to be the spinster little sister that follows her sister’s family around.”  Oh, how prideful you were!  Unwilling to see how God could use that move.  He brought you away from it all so you would see.  Remember the clarity you see now, the tangibleness of the love you feel, the vibrancy of the memories you see, the hope of good times yet to be had.  Be grateful He allowed you this opportunity to make things right.  To make the move after you’ve been humbled.  What a gift!

You also have the opportunity to make things right financially.  You have lived in fear of finances for as long as you can remember.  You have never had confidence to make a budget and stick with it, you have never had confidence to tithe regularly, you have never liked making big purchases, even if you had the money, for fear of needing that spent money elsewhere.  You have tried to make wise decisions based in this fear, but you cannot be successful continuing to do so.  You have freedom from fear in Christ - the seed is deep, but uproot it (and watch for it in other areas of your life)!  Replace the fear with faith.  It will take work, but delve in, study and learn how to manage this according to the Lord’s Word, and persevere.  He is allowing you to start afresh.  Do it right this time.

Lastly, don’t make decisions in this world because it’s what the world expects.  God is unexpected.  He does not operate of this world and doesn’t want us to either.  Doing something just because it’s what is “normal,” expected, or the way things have always been is stupid.  It’s wasting a life that could be aligned with God’s will.  Your home is in heaven, you are only here temporarily.  He will do things and ask you to do things in your life that don’t make sense to the world or sometimes even to you, but hold unswervingly to the hope we profess.  Keep the faith.  Fight the good fight.  Know that He has a purpose for you, a plan to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you hope, and a future.  He who promised is faithful.  

And remember, keep it simple.

Love yourself so that you can love others,

Erin Suzanne Cooper <><

Just a Vessel

Yes, Garth Brooks' "The River" is running through my head right now. And now it will be in yours.

You're welcome.

But this idea of being a vessel has been on my mind recently.

Maybe it's a recognition of surrender? Maybe a recognition of too much striving? Trying to be something. Trying to do something. Sensing that as a deeper desire for more of God and less of me.

A vessel. A broken one, at that.

Wanting to be spoken to. Spoken through.

So I wanted to share some quotes from a book I've been reading lately - Dallas Willard's Hearing God: Developing a Conversational Relationship with God.

It's one of those books that is truly over my head. And I knew that going into it.

But if one never grasps for what is out of reach, you'll only have what is within reach. You don't learn Calculus by stopping at 1+1=2.

A child is taught to "reach for the stars" and they'll land somewhere in between reality and the stars. Thus is the case with me. In reading this book, I am aiming far beyond and hopefully (and prayerfully) I'll land somewhere further than where I can see.

May these words speak to you as they have spoken to me...


In this life with God, his presence banishes our aloneness and makes real the meaning and full purpose of human existence. This union with God consists chiefly in a conversational relationship with God while we are consistently and deeply engaged as his friend and colaborer in the affairs of the kingdom of the heavens. (pg. 75)

Hang on. Read that one again. It's that good.

Ok, moving on...


Frank Laubach tells of the immense change that came over his life at the point when he resolved to do the will of God:
As for me, I never lived, I was half dead, I was a rotting tree, until I reached the place where I wholly, with utter honesty, resolved and then re-resolved that I would find God’s will, and I would do that will through ever fiber in me said no, and I would win the battle in my thoughts. It was as though some deep artesian well had been struck in my soul....You and I shall soon blow away from our bodies. Money, praise, poverty, opposition, these make no difference for they will all alike be forgotten in a thousand years, but this spirit which comes to a mind set upon continuous surrender, this spirit is timeless. 
(pg. 93, quote from Frank Laubach comes from his Letters by a Modern Mystic)

Mmm. Here's to striking artesian wells deep in our souls!

And one more...


[I]t is important to understand that God in his mercy often speaks to us in obscure ways in order to allow us the room and time we need to respond. He lets us know that we are indeed being addressed but also that we need to stretch our in growth in order to receive the message. Perhaps we often think, Well, God, why don’t you just come out and say it? Tell me in detail how to live. But we are usually full of mistaken ideas about what that would actually mean.
Our minds and values have to be restructured before God’s glory, but at the same time our interests are truly appreciated and understood. We may be tempted to cry out, like Isaiah, for God to rend the heavens, come out of hiding and stand before us telling us what to do (Is 64:1), but we do not really understand what we are asking for when we ask that. Probably it would literally kill us or at least unbalance us if it actually happened, so God in his mercy continues to approach us obliquely, in one way or another. But this is increasingly less so as we mature - even until that time when we can safely know him as he knows us (1 Cor 13:12).
It is therefore natural and right that God’s word comes to us in forms that we must struggle to understand. This is even true of the Bible, which is very explicit in many respects but still requires persistent and energetic work to understand. In the process of struggling we grow to the point where we can appropriate and assimilate the content of truth as it becomes clear. It is one of the oldest and most common stories of human life that in its most important moments we have little more than the foggiest idea of what it is we are doing and saying. And our ignorance is partly for our own good.
Did you really know what was happening when you entered the university or military training, got married or brought a child into the world? In some vague sense you did, perhaps, but you also had very little idea of what it meant in the long run. If you had appreciated all that it meant at the time, you probably would not have had the courage to proceed. Then you would have missed out on much good that has come to you through those events. (pg. 148-9)

So. true.

If I get going, my thoughts will ramble and show their ignorance. 

So...this is the end. 

Beautiful Things

I witnessed three incredibly beautiful things the past three days. There is beauty every day, but these moments were exceptional. Moments that make your heart catch in your throat. Moments that you are sure God is beaming from...ear to ear...sea to sea...the east to the west? However wide God grins, I'm not sure, but I could certainly feel His tenderness in each moment.

The first took place Saturday night at the wedding of two good friends of mine, Scott and Anna. They had just said their vows - surrounded by family and friends - and taken communion together. As they finished communion, they were joined by both sets of parents who proceeded to lay hands on them and pray over them.

The moment lasted only a few minutes, and yet I got a sense that we all could have watched it for hours.

The peace. The gratitude. The earnest desire of the Lord's will in two people's lives.

All with the sweet vocals of the bride's brother and sister filling our ears. It was a sight to behold.

And through vision blurred by tears, I found my heart grateful for a God who not only redeems, but delights in us.

Sunday brought the second beautiful moment. I was in the second row at church. PK had just delivered a fabulous message about authority in our lives. KQ gave an invitation for those who desired to surrender to the Lord's authority to come forward and kneel before our great God.

Oh my word. There is just something crazy emotional about the welcoming of a new believer into the family of God...

There aren't words to describe the weight, the joy, the release, the freedom, the peace.

And it's not even me making the commitment. I'm just witnessing people I don't even know! But somehow their story is mine too. Because everybody has a story. And each one is found in God's story.

Thankfully I was able to keep control so as not to enter into ugly-cry mode. No one wants to see that, even in church.

Ok, third moment. Let me set the stage...

Four years ago, my roommate, Erin B., had been through hell. A car accident led to testing that revealed the unexpected presence of Leukemia in her body. That was quickly followed by months of chemo.

And fear.

Nausea.

Pain.

Exhaustion.

Finally remission.

And then it came back. Chemo again. And a search for bone marrow that could give her another chance.

By the grace of God, it was found. In the body of a young German man. He willingly gave his marrow to save her life, the life of someone he had never met and likely never would.

The transplant took place on August 15th, 2009. A day she will certainly never forget. It was the day countless prayers and hopes became a reality. She would be cancer-free!

Three years later she met her fabulous donor and his dad. A truly divine meeting. If only we could have all witnessed it!

And two weeks ago, Erin B celebrated 4 cancer-free years. Praise the Lord!

Moment #3 took place last night with several of Erin B's family, her bone marrow donor's father, and myself. On a boat. On the lake. The water was calm. The sun was setting. Glistening golden rays scattered across the water. A delightful time of dinner and convo had taken place.

I was gazing out the back of the boat as Erin B took the water-skiing reins. She was smoothly gliding on the water, confidence and peace etched on her face.

Her dad drove the boat as her donor-dad looked on.

The joy of the moment evident in every fibre of his being.

It was one of those rare moments that could have easily been missed. But the beauty was raw. I am tearing up even now as I recount the details in my head searching for words to convey the significance.

I couldn't help but think of the grin on her donor-dad's face mirroring that of our Heavenly Father's. He was watching this woman, who by the kindness of his son and the works of modern medicine was somehow mysteriously a part of him. She had lived in the throes of a body wrecked by cancer, and was now embracing fully a life of freedom and joy. Experiencing again one of her favorite past-times.

Is that what makes our Heavenly Father grin?

Living in our new selves, freed from the throes of sin and hell by the blood and obedience of His Son, living a life of compassion. Our interests and desires given full rein as they are shaped through Him.

What a glorious mystery!

A Lesson From My Chiropractor

I've been going to the chiropractor for a few months now in an effort to fix a kink in my back that first appeared last November. X-rays showed a perfectly aligned spine, so the pain was determined to be muscular. Good news, for sure. Except that the tight knot in my left middle back continued to be a nuisance, not tied to any specific activity that I could figure out. It would just appear. I noticed it every morning as I merged on the interstate - my range of motion was significantly decreased because of the stiffness and pain around this area.

After several weeks of treatment, I went in one Monday morning after waking up with the worst pain I'd had since the initial event in November. As my doctor and I discussed reasons for the problem, we ruled out just about everything. Then he asked me how I sleep. I demonstrated the twist of half-stomach, half-side, one leg hiked up, one arm up under the pillow contortion that for whatever reason is the most comfortable way for me to fall asleep.

Uh-oh.

We hit on something here. He showed me exactly how that motion, the very one I spend 6-8 hours in every night, is the culprit for the horrible kink. Seriously?! That's it?! Well, that's an easy fix.

Or is it?

We talked about healthy positions for my body to spend a night's sleep. He told me to try it out for a week. I soon discovered this was harder than I thought. My body wasn't very happy about falling asleep in a position other than the trained uber-comfortable one. Normally I fall asleep within a minute or two of laying down. But in this new position, I'd lay there awake for a half-hour just waiting for my body to surrender. It finally would. But I would wake a few hours later to find myself in a twisted knot again. Reposition. Fall back asleep.

It was a frustrating sleepless week.

For some reason, when I'm most tired - which is generally every night I fall into bed - I slip into this position without thought. It's comfortable in the beginning, but 8 hours later, my back is oh-so-unhappy.

There is something to be said for muscle memory. I have been spending the past few weeks retraining my body to sleep in ways that are beneficial to my spine. It's taken work, but I am sleeping well again. I notice, however, that those nights I'm more tired than normal, my body fights to go back to its old habit.

I think this is so similar to our spiritual life. The Holy Spirit convicts us of some area of our life we need to get into submission. We train, fail, train again. It takes time and repetition. We so easily slip back into old habits and patterns, having to mentally refocus to get back on track. And when we are most weary, stressed, or stretched is when we are likely to slip the quickest.

It was a reminder to me to be rested. In every sense of the word. In sleep. In time with God. In eating. It's a set-up for success.

And as those habits become long-lost memories, I can move forward into new growth. It's like my sleeping. Two weeks later and I'm not fighting as hard to sleep correctly. It comes more naturally.

I'm experiencing the same thing with running. I've recently begun trying a new running technique - moving from heel-toe to forefoot running. It feels better. But it takes work. It utilizes different muscles. And when I begin to get tired, I revert back to my old patterns. I have to refocus and shift my repetition.

Here's an example of how and why: check out this video.

It won't be like that forever, but for now it takes work. Eventually it will come naturally. As will the things God is growing in me. They take work now, and I have to fight harder when I'm weary, but eventually they will be a part of me like never before.

Run the race with perseverance.

It's the path to progression. The path to health. The path of deep and meaningful.

Perspective

When I think of the word "perspectives," it's often paired with "course," as in a college course. Or a course like this one, that someday my friend and I would love to take. But this past month, I feel as if my life has been showing me perspective in its own way, without the use of a college classroom or textbook.

One example is a recent 4-day mission trip to downtown Atlanta with middle schoolers from my church. Seeing Christ through their eyes as we served "the least of these" together was absolutely humbling and incredibly encouraging.

Walking into a massive room that sleeps over 400 homeless men...perspective.

24 of us cleaning every single bed...perspective.

Observing swarms of refugee mothers impulsively grabbing freely given clothes so their child won't be naked...perspective.

Our students standing - of their own free will - on one of the darkest, busiest intersections in Atlanta, praying over the people, the city, while joyously holding signs of who God is to them...perspective.

I was reminded of perspective again this past Saturday as my roommate and I caught a few minutes of "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids" on TV. Every person born in the late 70's or early 80's remembers this classic. We've all wondered what it would be like to fall into a flower and have pollen cling to us like snow, to ride an ant guided buy a massive chunk of cookie attached to a stick, or to swim in a bowl of Cheerios and milk, fearful of being eaten by your dad.

What would it be like to be that minuscule? That trivial? This movie popped in my head a couple weeks ago on a hiking trail. As I walked, I wondered how many bugs existed in this park alone. How many leaves shook when the wind blew? How many people had walked this path before, and yet I was the only one there in that moment? I often think thoughts like this when I'm in nature. Maybe that's why it's my favorite spiritual getaway. It offers perspective easily missed in our fast-paced society of power and control. It all comes to a dead halt in this passage:

2 Corinthians 4: 6, NASB

For God, who said, "Light shall shine out of darkness," is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.

Did you get that? This is the God who said "Let there be light"...and there was light. That One. The Creator of the Universe, the One who formed the waters and the earth...

I think of this every time I run at this park. How couldn't you with a view like this?

This very same God is the One who shines in my heart. Wow, is that ever perspective.

And how about the concept of time? If the collision of my timing with God's doesn't put me in my place, I don't know what does. This past week I re-listened to KQ's message on the work of waiting from last November. I'm experiencing this now in very real ways. Peter explains it this way:

2 Peter 3:8-9, NASB

But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.

KQ said, "God is always working. Therefore, you can live with patient trust...Waiting time isn't wasted time, it's working time. God is doing a work in you."

He also quoted Ben Patterson in saying, "The work God wants to do in us while we wait is at least as important as what we're waiting for."

Now that's, mmm-mm, good.

How have you experienced perspective in your own life? Are you waiting for things that require an increased dose of faith, trust, or hope? Or are you simply in a place of basking in the truth of the God of the Universe shining in your heart?