God is good

It’s funny how fast things can change…

God’s definately answered me in my distress.

Certain thoughts and issues have seemed to work themselves out, and I’ve found myself pleasantly surprized a few times as well. Still stuff to sort out, but I’ve been very content this weekend.

This past week has been crazy busy, but awesome as well, and the weekend will be hard to top.

Doing a lot at work…but I’ve been assured of my job security for fall, as well as a raise.

Summer is just around the corner, and I’m gearing up for my last classes (they end Wednesday!! Yay!) and final exams (ugh!).

I do believe this weekend was a very good turning point for me–not that it changes any of the reality of needing God even more, or the fact that there is so much evil in the world…

The week leading up to one amazing weekend was fairly normal-classes, lots of work, procrastination, FCA lunch, running into friends, etc.

Wednesday-Freshmen lunch, dinner with Delane, Michael and Alan, FCA and LOST…

Thursday I went to Campus Crusade (after shopping for powderpuff football jerseys with Amanda and Katie). It was an evening of all worship, which was wonderful! Afterwards, a bunch of the freshmen girls went out to Coldstone for ice cream (we got there in a mater of minutes before they closed). Still not tired, I went with Amanda over to Supriya’s and watched tv with them while Supriya tried to give me a hena tattoo-unfortunately it didn’t stay on. Those two girls are awesome, and I’ve been blessed lately to get to spend more time with them!

Friday I went to class and work, and then Delane called me and we went out to dinner. We stopped by to help out with Homeless Council, where I had an awesome conversation with a man named Eddie. After spending time downtownat the church, we came back to the dorms to get ready for “The Party of the Century” as it was called. Jenn Wert and the girls of the Lagoon had been spreading word all week that an amazing event was going to take place at 10 on Friday night, but wouldn’t tell us what it was. Late Thursday night everyone had received a phone call asking us if we were in, and telling us to come as celebrities, “dressed to impress”. When we got to the party, Cody and Tim were standing at the door dressed as bouncers. A red carpet had been rolled out, and twinkle lights lined the path. When we stepped through the doors, the entire house was decorated Hollywood theme. A bonfire was going out back, and the living room had been cleared of all furniture and was set up as a dance room-complete with the FCA sound system and huge sub! Colored lights and music filled the room. I didn’t stop dancing all night! So many people were there and the whole evening was amazing! We didn’t leave until well after 2am!

Saturday I slept in late, and then went to the FCA Powderpuff football game (Underclassmen vs. Upperclassmen). We had a lovely tailgate that Dan had set up, and I went to cheer on the “Undies” (as we called them) though I was outshined by our very own cheerleaders Mike and Jamie-coached by the amazing Mallory. The Undies put up quite a fight, and the game was very intense, but the upperclassmen won (in the last minute of the game).

Saturday night was going to be “Unite NOW” (NOW=night of worship), where all the Christian ministries on campus have the opportunity to join together in corporate worship of Jesus Christ. After the game ended, a number of us went to grab dinner at the Reitz union and then walk outside to the ampitheater for worship. Just as I was walking into the Reitz, my close family friend Mary called and asked what I was up to. It just so happened that she was in town and at the night of worship because some of her friends were in the band that was helping lead. (She’s moving up to Gainesville shortly, so she’d been up that weekend to move some stuff). It was great to see her!

Worship was mind-blowing!!!! So many people were there, and it was just awesome to come together to sing, and be so united in our focus on God!!!!

After worship, I went over to the Batcave (some FCA guys’ house) and sat around with some friends and watched SNL.

Sunday morning Delane and I went to the Family Church, and stayed after for a youth luncheon with some other friends. In the afternoon I managed to get a lot of cleaning done… I’m starting to pack up some of my stuff in preparation for moving back home in the summer. With exams coming up, I don’t want to have to think too much about cleaning and laundry. Unfortunately, that ment I didn’t get too much math studying done for my exam tomorrow…whoops!

Sunday evening we had our last FCA Servant Team meeting. It was a nice time of reflection and funny memories… Who’d have thought that in only a year I’d have so much to look back on…? It’s really bittersweet too, because we’re getting ready to say goodbye to some of the Seniors who are graduating. I hate goodbyes. Probably more than almost anything. I especially hate getting so attached to people and then just as you start growing closer to them they have to leave. As always, we hit up Moe’s for dinner afterwards.

As I start looking back on this semester, I really feel blessed. I’ve met so many wonderful people, made so many wonderful memories and grown so much… I’m greatly anticipating next semester. I’m sad that there will be so many people that I will not get to see much over the summer, but at the same time I’m looking forward to getting to spend some time with everyone back home.

There’s still a week or two left in the semester though…always the best ones too, because they’re reading days, so we don’t have class.

Monday is the last Bible study, Tuesday is the last band practice, Wednesday is our last FCA, Thursday is going to be crazy busy, Friday is the FCA semi-formal…

I cannot wait for all that this week has in store!!

just stating the already obvious…

Lately I haven’t been able to write.

I hate it.

And though I have found lately nothing save blessings in my life, this past week or so has left me in a haze…

Spring semester is coming to a close, and I’m finding it hard to believe that almost an entire year has passed since I first came to UF. I had to drop one of my classes, I remain fearful of my final grades in my other 3 classes, and I’m ready to get everything over with.

On the plus side, I’ve seen friendships here flourish, enjoyed spending time with friends and just living… I also found out today that not only will I be able to come back to work at the radio station, but that my boss is giving me a raise.

<>Next year looks very promising–I cannot wait to be living with Delane and Julianne! (Though I must admit I will miss my current roomie)

<>This summer I have no plans–no plans except to get a job and save up for next year. I wish I could go on a missions trip this summer, and I was hoping to at least work as a camp counselor with the church, but that seems unlikely now. I am sure though that I will get to spend some much needed time at home with family and friends.

<>…And I’m thinking right now I need to cut all the small talk.

Something is not right.

And I don’t just mean the “not right” in that Madeline and all the 12 little girls in 2 straight lines cannot sleep. I mean something is not right, and I’m lying here awake because it is tearing me up inside. So much is welling inside, and I cannot stop it from overflowing.

I don’t think people know how much I really care for them. And by this I mean that I see friends hurting themselves, people I care deeply for needing more…needing love, and searching for those cheap thrills and things to entertain and occupy their time with. I watch as everyone I know (and I do not exclude myself from this at times) puts on a mask and sets out to face the world.

We rally behind the same causes, ideas and images of the united (yet unique) epitimy of the perfect (though admitedly imperfect) person. We can either deny our problems virulently or avoid talking about them by admiting that we knew they were there, but were already working on them.

I speak in general terms because I feel that general terms suffice.

I was trying to write a poem the other day, but I started to feel so superficial writing it. It began as a sort-of storybook about America’s poster children–Marilyn Monroe and James Dean. Went something like this…

Leather jackets and white dresses

red lipstick–a few more kisses

smile for the camera baby,

smile big and wide

preted like you’ve got nothing,

nothing to hide

As I wrote it I realized how I wasn’t just writing about a particular story…I was writing mine.

Right now I think I’m a bit of a mess. I’m unhappy with myself. I’m unhappy with so many things. I’m dissapointed in people, I’m struck by tragedies and how helpless I feel to make a difference or change things. I’m scared of not being loved. I wish I could love Jesus better. I wish I knew His love better. I want to be content. I’m not. I’d like all the answers-I don’t have them.

How silly it is that I know I walk out into the world each day wearing some form of mask…(perhaps some days more than others) thinking I’m the only one who is altering myself. If I looked closely I’m sure I’d recognize the face of every person–it looks like mine.

Yet I am mistaken to try and take theirs off. I can’t even take off my own.

This isn’t new I’m sure. You’ve read it all before. My story may not be the exact same as the one before, but it’s a close second.

I could go on with a whole bunch more generalizations and speak of completely random things…but I just needed to get this out there: I’m not good.

God is though, so I’m hoping that I can work whatever this is out.

Yeah, that was it.

Haha. It’s 3:11am and I just spent the past 45 minutes stating stuff I already know and can’t really make any more understandable outside of my head. I need to get back on a better sleep schedule.

…but can I understand the death of one?

There is a song by Nichole Nordeman called “Why” that I really like. It’s not particularly spectacular, (though I can only dream of ever having vocals as amazing as her someday) but it’s a song that at times can send shivers down my spine.

The song is a story of a father and a daughter, set during the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. Throughout the song, she asks her father “why?”… why are they beating Jesus, why does everyone seem happy about it, why does he have to die… The song shifts to Jesus on the Cross, asking why…asking if God can take this from Him. God’s reply is that He can do nothing, but his response as to why Jesus has to die is this…

When will I understand why?

My precious son,

I hear them screaming

and I’m watching the face of the enemy beaming

but soon i will clothe you in robes of my own

Jesus, this hurts me much more than you know

but this dark hour I must do nothing

though I’ve heard your unbearable cry

The power in your blood destroys all of the lies

soon you’ll see past their unmerciful eyes

look there below, see the child

trembling by her father’s side

now I can tell you why…

She is why you must die.

The reason this song gets to me is simply because of the last line… she is why you must die. For some reason I can just always picture me as the one being spoken of, which in a sense would be great for me–I can understand that Christ’s sacrifice on the Christ was a personal gift of mercy for me…because I am a sinner. Yet at the same time, I struggle with really remembering the cross.

At work on Friday I was reading the newspaper and came across the Family Circus comic strip…

How true I know the above picture’s caption rings true for me…

“I like seeing the Jesus in the manger better.”

The image of a little baby in a stable is not nearly so bad as that of a bruised, bloody and dying man upon a symbol of torture.

Not long ago, someone was telling me how people who were crucified actually died…

Their arms and feet were nailed to a heavy cross-that they had to drag themselves to the top of Golgotha- and as they hung from the cross, their lungs were crushed beneath the weight of their own bodies. In order to keep from suffocating, those on the cross would have to push their bodies up with their legs and arms. This would leave their bodies writhing in pain from intense muscle spasms and a loss of blood. Often, death on a cross could take days, so to speed up the process, Roman soldiers would often take a club and shatter the legs of those hanging on the cross. Unable to push themselves up, their lungs would then give out…

The idea of seeing Jesus, beaten so much so that he was unrecognizable, blood flowing down his face-where thorns tore into his flesh-hanging, gasping for air (and though His bones were not broken…) a sword pierced into his side, is horrendus.

I still have not been able to bring myself to watch the movie The Passion of the Christ. People that have seen it have told me that it’s powerful, and so moving. I think each time I hear that if so much emotion can be ellicited from viewing nothing more that good make-up and hollywood special effects, imaging seeing the real thing…

seeing it

smelling it

hearing it

feeling it

Yes, the idea of baby Jesus in a manger is much more appealing to me.

(I am not discrediting the birth of Jesus as anything less than a miracle. It is the beginning of a life that has changed mine more than any other will. It’s the start of a life that did not merely end at the cross, but simply finished the work that He was sent to do…)

In our world today it’s very easy to see that we don’t like to think about pain…of suffering, grief, troubles, or anything negative. For every bad thought, we seem to have come up with a distraction-pills,friends, alcohol, television, drugs, our jobs, anything that can entertain our minds with thoughts more pleasant that that of someone brutally murdered.

I stand at Golgotha, yet I do not want to see what is before me…

Friday night my youthgroup had a movie and discussion night. The film we watched was Les Miserables, based upon the book by Victor Hugo. (I highly recommend the book-AMAZING-and the movie is good too) Throughout the story, there is an emphasis on grace, and two different reactions to it. The character of Jean Valjean accepts the grace bestowed upon him, and willingly lets it change him for the better. Javert, however, cannot grasp the concept of mercy, or forgiveness, or accepting things he felt were unearned. These themes of grace in the film (and book) can easily be transferred to real-life situations and how we deal with the ultimate gift of Grace–Christ’s unmerrited, painful, unjust death on the cross for our transgressions… We can react in two ways to the grace that we have been offered by Christ, and they are this: either we accept it as a gift that we do not deserve, and use it to change ourself, or we disregard it, because we cannot accept things that we do not feel we have earned, and instead stick to our deadly habits.

In the end of the story, Javert has come to “understand” mercy, but still cannot accept it. But I wonder if he really does end up understanding it?

It may not be hard to imagine a baby being born, or a king coming to claim his kingdom, but the method of conquering the kingdom by dying an unmerited death is another thing…

In my house, we do not get cable. Hence, I am forced to watch reruns of old shows late at night when nothing else is on. Early early Saturday morning, I came across an old episode of Star Trek. I have never seen it before, but happend to listen to some dialogue between Spock and another character…

(Spock has just relayed information that 400 other Vulcans have just died)

But 4oo Vulcans?

I’ve noticed that about your people. You find it easier to understand the death of one than the death of a million. You speak of the objective hardness of the Vulcan heart, yet how little room there seems to be in yours…

This quote really stuck out to me. Perhaps in other settings, we might understand, but I began to wonder if we really understood the death of one Jesus Christ…

Had Palm Sunday been an event where the conquering king entered triumphantly through the city gates, accompanied by thousands of soliders it might be observed as a bank holiday where we remember those who were killed and the veterans who were willing to die in order to rescue those imprisoned by the Romans.

The idea of hundreds, thousands…millions dying to free a people is a bit easier to grasp. The concept of military conquest and fighting for our freedom is easy.

What’s not easy is believing that one man, riding on a donkey, came without an army… He came alone, He came innocent of any wrongdoing, He came like a lamb to the slaughter…crucified for everyone.

One death.

Freedom for all.

How hard are our hearts that we who stand and shout “Hosanna! Save us!” would rather wait for hundreds, thousands, or even millions to see our rescue, than to try and comprehend the miracle of ONE SACRIFICE?

There is so much about Jesus’ death on the cross that blows my mind and only confuses me more…

But I rest assured that once was enough–

That one man was enough…

And I take heart in knowing that our freedom does not simply rest in His death, but in His resurrection as well.

CHRIST IS RISEN!

ALLELUIAH!!