Rest Comes in the Morning

Reading through my morning prayer in The Divine Office, I took part in something really cool! One of the antiphons (the opening of a psalm or sometimes repeated scripture in the breaks of a psalm) was: "Let us listen to the voice of God, let us enter into His rest!" This request didn't come at the end of the day, but at the very beginning. For me this was the first thing I did! I woke and asked for rest before another thought! What an awesome idea! Through the trials and the stresses of the day I can find rest with Jesus! Thats when I need the rest! Not at the end of the day when I can't even enjoy it before I hit my pillow and fall almost instantly asleep! Thanks, Papa, for all you REVEAL TO ME! 

GOOD MORNING!!!!!!!!!!! *Rise and shine and give GOD the GLORY, GLORY!!!!!!!!!!!

Breaking it Down

Sister Catherine Mary, aka Mother Superior of the AARPS (Adoring, Adventurous, Radically Passionate Servants of Christ) Convent, began with us a wonderful thing. It is called The Office. It is a daily dedication to prayer that many nuns and priests and other Catholic believers take part in each day. If used to its fullest potential a prayer can be said in the morning, at noon, in the evening and at night. It is one of the most powerful things I have yet been a part of in my new found Catholic faith! Besides the connection and unity that the practice brings because it is being said by so many all over the world at all times of the day, it also has had a powerful impact on my relationship with God. The prayers are mostly psalms with readings and prayers intertwined. It has so many reminders of God's love, daily insights into His will and purpose, and is deeply focused on His ways. I not only learn from it daily but it opens my heart and mind and centers me so that I can focus more directly and devotedly on God. I have only been doing it for three days and already I know I would miss it if I couldn't do it, or feel the effect of its absence if I forgot to do it. I have heard so many say that Catholicism is just a boring compilation of traditional sayings and rituals, and there is probably nothing I disagree with more. Catholic literature, reading, and practices have given me such a deep insight into God! There is a devotion and a depth that lives there because it is a church that, when understood and truly lived out, is far more passionate and abandoned to God than anything I have ever known! It is not about recitation, but about daily remembrance. How many times I have prayed the Lord's Prayer and it has meant something different to me each new time. How many times I have knelt in church while Father blesses communion and it has had a deep, penetrating impact on different parts of my heart and my life. I can go to any church or stand in any place on earth and feel the Holy Spirit... He is with me and it is me that allows Him to effect me or penetrate me in anything or any place... but He meets me at St. Rose. He is ALWAYS present there! I can't explain it. I can't justify it. I can't logically deduce any kind of reason. It is just truth for me. And when I knelt on the floor in Fort Collins, Colorado at Jo's church, I felt Him the same way. Like "coming home" Father Sebastian says. When I walked around the Vatican, long before I knew all that God had for me and long before I understood His full magnificence, I could feel Him there! Walking into Father Seelos' shrine in New Orleans, Louisiana, and feeling my breath instantly heavy in my lungs from the powerful presence of God in that place... I cannot explain it. But I know that I love, and exceedingly appreciate everything that God is showing me and allowing me to realize! I feel like I know Him and love Him more and more each day. When it seems like there really can be nothing better than today He gives me tomorrow!!!! That is RADICAL love! 

Todays most impacting reading: Canticle of Zechariah: Through the tender compassion of our God the dawn from on high shall break upon us.

THROUGH the TENDER COMPASSION of our GOD the DAWN from on high shall BREAK upon us!!!!!

God doesn't just sit and watch from afar, exerting His authority and power when we are getting out of hand. Some people tend to see God as a judgmental and disciplinary God. But God is SO MUCH MORE! We are so caught up in our OWN understandings. But this verse is such a beautiful example of our God, a God of Love. "God IS love!" "Through his tender compassion!"... God is tender? God is tender! He sees our plights. Through our utter disobedience and overwhelming selfishness he can muster up tenderness! Compassion! And what does His compassion bring? Not just comfort and peace but the DAWN!!! "Dawn from on high!" What does that mean? When the dawn comes it comes when? After the dark! And what does dawn mean? Dawn is the START of a NEW day! A dawn from on high! A holy, glorious newness from God! And how does it come? It BREAKS upon us! What an interesting word He chose... break.  Like when you are hurt and wounded and someone BREAKS your heart. Or have you ever seen those glow sticks that are just plain plastic boringness until you BREAK them. Snap! And all this light suddenly BREAKS out of it! Or have you ever been so stubbornly unable to repent that when it comes it does not come softly or subtly, but you must BREAK to let it come. And how about when you see another's suffering and your heart BREAKS for them? You cry with them. You long to do something for them. You pray for them. You try to help them. Have you ever been uncontrollably full of joy and suddenly you start dancing or singing or whistling and you have no explanation or awareness of it... you just BREAK into song! 

I kind of see a "dawn from on high" BREAKIN' down like that! A pain, a wound, the beginning of the night... a light snaps in the darkness... a repentance, a realization, a drawing near to God... He sees, He bestows His tender compassion and then... uncontrollable joy! "Joy comes in the morning!" DAYBREAK! 

Haha! What fun! I love being with you Papa! 

"May the all-powerful Lord grant us a restful night (tonight) and a peaceful death! (... one day! hahaha)" AMEN

To Answer Your Question...

My sister is reading Captivating... a book that I recommend to EVERY woman, if you have not read it! She is also blogging her experience, which I think is so cool! Wish I'da done that! But in one of her blogs she asks, "Does God pursue me?" Well, to answer your question...

God pursues you!!! He pursues you in a romantic way even! Ever walk out the door and see the sun setting, wrapped in pink, blanketing the whole city where you live and just know its for you? :D Thats God! Ever get a book and flip through its pages and your eyes stop on a beautiful passage that penetrates right to your soul? GOD! Ever get a whoosh of peace, unlike anything you've ever felt, that comes in like a breeze, unexpected and unexplainable...? ummmmm... GOD! He has really personal things for us too. I remember being in Jo's trailer once... she wasn't there and I was just standing there and I had read captivating that morning and I was praying that God would just show me His love. "Just SPEAK TO ME!" (I was a little emotional) BOOOOOOOOOOOM! The LOUDEST bang of thunder I have EVER heard and a ridiculously bright flash followed by the power going out... I laughed so hard I cried. The lighting had struck the breaker box on the pole tucked between two trailers (what are the odds?) and left me on my knees in the dark, laughing with Jesus. NOW THATS ROMANTIC BABY! I went outside and just stood. God, after speaking so loudly, had begun to orchestrate one of the most beautiful rainstorms I had seen since He named me Raindrop. Then I was so happy I danced with Him in all the puddles and got COMPLETELY soaked! Oh, wow. It was one of the greatest days of my life! I act like a woman being constantly pursued too... i mean... i fall more in love with Jesus every day. And He always has some new and amazing way to tell me how much He loves me and show me how much He cares for me. HE'S SO AWESOME!

Mistaken, Not Stirred

After a refreshingly deep diving session with Di in the car on our way to Jackson (we were evacuating for Hurricane Gustav), I was left pondering the significance and the impact of mistakes. What is a mistake? dictionary.com has two definitions:

1. An error in action, calculation, opinion or judgement caused by poor reasoning, carelessness, insufficient knowledge, etc.

2. A misunderstanding or a misconception.

Bruce almost always does the same solo for the same song every Sunday in the St. Rose choir. He does it beautifully... flawlessly. A few Sundays ago, as everyone was preparing to evacuate for hurricane Gustav or had resolved to stay and "ride it out", the few that attended church that morning were solemn and anxious. Bruce got up to sing his solo and for the first time that I have ever heard, he forgot the words. He sang the same verse twice about Jesus having mercy on us all. The audience was a little thrown at first. Bruce's face showed he knew he had erred. He was living in the first definition of mistake. His eyes got a little bigger, he looked over at Al, the director, he struggled through the next line as his brain wasn't on the song for that moment but on the mistake. Finally he caught the rhythm again and kept going. One little mistake and he almost lost the song, the audience almost stopped singing... it just took one tiny err. But what caught my interest was not the mistake. I, like so many probably, looked to see Father Sebastian's reaction. Father Sebastian, eyes fixed upward, hands in front of him, was smiling. And not just smiling... he was grinning. He never lost the song. He kept right on. Father Sebastian was excited to sing that verse two times, you could tell. And when you think of the verse, and that moment in time, what a beautiful time to "mistakingly" sing it twice. Jesus "have mercy on us." The mistake was really just a misunderstanding... God wanted to show his intention of mercy twice, thats all. Thats how it was supposed to be, us humans just misunderstood because of our own personal idea of how it "should" go. 

Di and I discussed mistakes while evacuating. They had made a "mistake" of their own. The night before we left Di had prepared an alternate route to our evacuation spot. We were going to use back roads to try and take some time off of the 24 hour expected evacuation time. As we were leaving Di got a call from her mother, who expressed her concern about the predicted tornados for Jackson, Mississippi. We, of course, were headed to Jackson, Mississippi. They decided that Birmingham, Alabama was a better choice and so we started going the other direction. Not much after we were driving we got a call from Cindy Cheeks who was awaiting our arrival in Jackson. She had wonderful news! The tornados, in fact, were not expected to be severe in Jackson so we could go to our original destination. We had been traveling about ten minutes in the wrong direction by then and Di decided to ask Cindy if there were some good back roads that led to Jackson from where we were so we wouldn't have to turn around... and there were! We looked them up on the map and headed forward. We got to our first turn with no traffic! We headed up the small highway we were on... NO traffic. We got to our first junction... NO TRAFFIC! If we had turned around and went back we would have missed that traffic free route! Kenny informed us later that Di's original alternate route was actually pretty congested. 

In our discussion we decided that people typically do three things in light of a mistake. The two most common are to freeze up and become paralyzed or to turn back and try to somehow fix the mistake where it began. Some people spend much of their lives looking back because of their mistakes. And so many others spend much of their life locked inside their failure, afraid to make another mistake. But there is a third choice! We can keep moving forward and recalculate. Much like a GPS system will do when you continue the wrong way for too long. GPS... GOD'S PROTECTIVE SERVICES! (Compliments of Di Fillhart, master genius of wonderful and unforgettable catch phrases) We got to Jackson in 5 hours. With our GPS and determination to keep moving forward, we shaved 19 hours off of our trip. And I learned some sweet lessons about mistakes! 

I am a woman of many mistakes... from the small and embarrassing, to the gigantic and painful. And I have a CHOICE about how I face these mistakes. I can keep moving forward and trust in my GPS, or I can stop, turn back and lose my way. Like Brother Lawrence says, when you fail don't become discouraged and focus on the failure... focus forward and keep trying. I can be mistaken and not stirred!

I am such a fan of object lessons! Thanks Papa, for all you reveal to me...

Home Sweet Home

I realized, just right now, that I move around a lot. Just this summer I have been in various parts of Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Texas, Colorado and Oregon. And I am so blessed! Blessed by the freedom I have been given to just roam and serve wherever I am lead. Some people spend their whole lives in one place... tens of thousands of days surrounded by the same trees, breathing the same air, driving the same roads. It isn't a bad thing. I think if somebody is able to do it, it's kinda cool. That person gets to see something change and progress and adapt over a lifetime. I think, though, that I am glad to see the changes in myself and visit the different places I have seen along the way if I need to know how they are doing. When I was talking to my friend Jo yesterday I told her I was sure I'd get to come home and see her again sometime and we would have fun. It was a heart-slip of course. Colorado has never been my "home". But I was there with somebody I love and when I went, Jesus was with me there, and so it WAS home. And when I went to alabama to love on kids and fellowship with the wonderful manyamas, it was home. And when I went to Housten and served with the AMAZING Fully Alive group, it was home. And when I was back with my parents in a house I did not grow up in... a house at the coast of Oregon, that I had never seen before in my life, it was home. and when i was with my sister in her new duplex in Portland, it was home. And when I flew back to Mississippi and I was surrounded by the people I have loved and been loved by for the last year in Bay St. Louis... I WAS BACK HOME. I feel home here... right now... where i am. I am sitting in a lounge full of strangers, Morgan intent on picture-surfing next to me, with a bottem bunk in a huge classroom turned dorm in Lake Charles, Louisianna. Go figure... that cliche makes sense! My home IS where my heart is! And even though its in the midst of some renovation while my old junk is getting moved out and Jesus is moving HIS personal things in, I can enjoy the peace of being at home ALL THE TIME. The peace you get when you are able to rest in the comfort of home. When stress or anxiety or sorrow come knocking I can find the safety and comfort that I need at home with my Jesus... in me. We can let in whoever we want. And keep out all the others. Though they might pitch tents and war outside, there is One that lives in my heart that is greater than myself and His name is Jesus Christ... and i'm making sure that He is in charge of the door to our home!
May I never try to take over that responsibility again!
AMEN
haha :D

Rest

I've never been very good at resting... I tend to go until my body quits or my mind just reaches total arrest. I can't stop when there is so much to do! And there are so many people that I don't want to let down. Including myself and all the expectations I make for myself. And there so many people that rely on me and expect things from me and I can get caught up in performance. I pour out and empty everything I have. Work and disaster relief is morning to evening. Evening to late night, often middle of the night, is family and friends and more ministry. There are people, I'm sure of it, that are better at time management... people with the ability to stretch themselves out evenly over a day without over obligation... people with the ability to stop and fill and rest despite the things yet undone... I am not one of them. Yet. 

It was during a facebook conversation with a good friend named Jo that I realized it might be time to step back and rest and allow myself the time to process everything I had learned and everything I had seen. I didn't have the thought, of course. I was in tears and I told Jo I was just overwhelmed and I didn't know why. I felt like I couldn't sleep a whole night. I felt exhausted. Jo said, "When's the last time you really rested? Like, took time away from everything and everyone and stopped?" My answer... "ummmmmmmm". My internal dialog was like, click... "You did it again!" I was reminded of the last time I got sick. I was too sick to go see anyone and I was just annoyed about it to be honest. I felt like I was missing out and I didn't feel too sick to talk and sit with people, but I knew they didn't need my germs. So, I stayed in my trailer, thinking about all the fun everyone else was having.  I finally got bored with that and started cleaning. To perpetuate motivation I put a cd in that had been there since before me, a forgotten one from Di's collection I'm sure, and started jammin' out. By the third song I wasn't cleaning, I was worshiping, and I felt God's presence show up right there, dancing with me... and it struck me... "How long has He wanted me to dance with Him? How long has he wanted to be with me alone? How long have I not allowed it, and why do I have to get sick to slow down enough to really be with him?" Brother Lawrence says when you fail, not to be discouraged with the failure or overwhelmed by it, but to thank God you have seen it and get right up and move on. I confess, that is really hard in the midst of this realization. Why do I forget to stop and be with my God? Why do I forget to dance with Him? I'm so sorry, Papa... 

I decided to go home and see my friends and family and take some time to just rest and fill. God was so faithful in allowing it because in the midst of Gustav and Ike I was reluctant in my heart to go. Gustav came with little effect to Bay St. Louis, thanks to God's mercy, and it went. But it came with great physical, emotional and spiritual outpouring. Then, before the exhale, Ike started looking like a Katrina out in the Atlantic... Ike took the same path, and it was well organized and parts of it were a Cat 5. If we had to evacuate I wasn't going home! I was evacuating with the rest! Then it turned dramatically, and as my trip neared it seemed like I'd get to go. Friday came. On the way to New Orleans, waters rising in the gulf, we had to cross a feeder band to get to the airport. It was unbelievable. Mist fogged everything in sight. Rain came down like it was falling from a bucket kicked over in the sky. The dismal clouds blocked all the sunlight. I asked Bonnie, "How is a plane gonna leave in this?" She said it might just get delayed some. I'd be fine. We got to our exit and we were driving down airport road when, like a veil pulled back... WHOOSH... Sunlight! Birds! The clouds parted! Mmmmmm k. I was goin'! I called Mel from the plane when it landed, early, in Colorado, and she told me that the bridges in New Orleans had closed after Bonnie and Morgan got over them! About all I got is thank you Papa. 

...to be continued...

Amidst the Storm

Hurricane Gustav came in with sleeplessness and anxiety on it's outer bands and threatened the hope and the recovery of Bay St. Louis as it seemed to be aiming directly for us... The days before it got here were thick with worry. There was a tangible silence and a stifling heaviness that settled here Wednesday. Gustav was still a taunting threat then, but as Katrina survivor Melanie Mitchell says, "burnt children are afraid of fire." With such a powerful hurricane projected for the gulf, the community was reminded of a not-so-distant 3 years ago, when they lost everything to a storm as big and unpredictable. Hearts were heavy with the question, "will I come back if it happens again?" 3 years was just long enough for many people to get there homes rebuilt and to acquire some meaningful and distantly familiar reminders of things they once owned.  Some people were realizing that they weren't as free of Katrina as they thought. Some people were absolutely fed up. One man said he would stay and keep his business open no matter what happened. He wasn't packing up or closing down again. I wasn't here right after Katrina. I didn't see all the devastation or smell the rot and decay of the land and the debris that faces still tighten at with a mere mention. But just being here in the anticipation of Gustav I think I understood it a little more than I ever did. The volunteers were supposed to pack up and leave on Friday, and as I could be considered a volunteer, it was suggested that Morgan and I leave that day. I secretly hoped it would turn like last summer's hurricane, and that we wouldn't need to evacuate. By Thursday it was obvious it was coming and we spent the day putting up shutters and packing houses and talking with residents about plans and fears and prayers. I had no peace about leaving Friday. I prayed that God might let us to stay longer and help more people prepare. I watched the weather channel long into the night, and finally prayed myself to sleep. At breakfast that morning Bonnie and Di told us we weren't leaving until Sunday. They said we were going to stay and help more and support St. Rose by being at church. I can't tell you how absolutely grateful and awe struck I was at the news. God had given me the chance to stay and work with the residents. To walk with them and pray with them for another couple days. Morgan and I started early, calling everyone we knew, and some we didn't, and offering to help in any way we could. It was both wonderful and solemn. Seeing the sadness in people's eyes and hearing the anxiety in the undertone of their requests and conversation was hard. At Saturday night mass, kneeling on the ground of the balcony, Morgan and I both wept... for the hope of working in vain... for the heavy hearts of those we prayed with and talked with... for the homes already gone in Jamaica and Cuba... I wept with the feeling of being overwhelmed and completely at a loss at times. God had put me in the middle of something completely beyond my experience or my abilities. I was in the midst of a storm I would never have thought myself capable to bear. And quite honestly, I'm not. It is God that walks me through it all. God permitted me to be there and it was at church that night that I exchanged my teeth-gritting strength for His unmatchable strength... I wept while I laid the burdens and the worries I had picked up along the day at the cross...  That night I called my friend Jo-Lynne in Colorado and we prayed together for Bay St. Louis, and for the ability to endure God's will. We begged for mercy. We begged for the souls that might be lost in the devastation of another hurricane like Katrina. We prayed for hours. Bonnie, Di, Morgan and I evacuated Sunday to Jackson, and watched the news off and on through the night. Gustav came Monday. God did have mercy on Bay St. Louis. It turned West just off shore and gradually made its way on land in Morgan City, Louisianna, which dulled its destructive possibility. We started for home before the Sunlight Tuesday morning and we were back in Bay St. Louis and working long before nightfall Tuesday evening. Hurricane Hannah was making her way toward the gulf and Ike was already a shadow of threat behind her. We worked putting furniture back up, mucking mud from a flooded house, removing limbs and debris from yards. Most  people left their windows shuttered or boarded and only unpacked what they really needed for day to day living. They didn't want to do it all again if another hurricane came near. Ike now thrashes over Cuba, devastating everything in its path, destroying homes and taking lives in a country with little outside alliances or support. My heart breaks for them. I only sleep at night because God lets me. Sometimes its not right away. Sometimes its not very long. I sleep, I don't often rest. It wasn't until tonight, when I was surrounded by the peace of God's presence in Di's house, with her voice gently comforting a friend on the other far off end of the telephone, lying outstretched on her soft love seat, that I realized how exhausted I was. I fell asleep on my back, which I never do, and surrounded by the comfort of true spiritual community and love, I slept the best 10 minutes I have slept in 2 weeks. It felt like hours. It felt like rest. A sudden, unexpected peace amidst the storm... God's gift to me tonight. I sit now hoping Ike will fizzle out and die! And praying for God's strength as His will be done...

Dark Night

I don't know why I cannot find the words to talk about all that circulates in my mind. It would be best if I could grab one thought and focus there but my mind seems to rebel against organization or clarity of any kind. It is as if my thoughts are spinning around in my mind and I have no ability to twirl with it but rather I am stuck in one spot, watching the thoughts go by, only able to observe and comment on what's in front of me. When it spins out of sight my mind moves on- and the thoughts are spinning so fast. It is this overwhelming confusion that keeps me from being able to write tonight, or to speak... It wasn't always like this... I hate to look back in order to observe this difference, but where did my ability to dance with my thoughts go? When? Will this ever pass? I have so much to say. So much to write. But I can't focus or grasp anything long enough to do either! It is how I know it is me and not God. God would never be so confusing! It is so dark right now. Can You not part the raging sea of thoughts, Lord? I long to hear You tonight. I love You. I miss Your voice. I feel like a child away from her papa... There is so much to occupy my mind or my time if I wish it. So many places I could go or people I could call or shows I could watch or games I could play... but I'd rather be right here Lord, anticipating You... I'd rather be alone in the dark waiting for You if that is the only place I will find You... rather here, pounding the floor, crying out for You, than anywhere else. Even the thought of how Your presence feels, what Your voice sounds like, how Your grace has saved me from my misery and my wretchedness, is enough to comfort my soul. I need nothing but You. Even in this night's darkness, the light of all You have done and all that You are turning to Your will and Your good is bright enough to sustain me. Your will be done... this heart is completely and utterly Yours. I withhold nothing. Take it all. I have nothing left worth holding on to... only You. My eyes are fixed into the darkness, my ears tuned to hear only You... 

Our Father...

God the Father... while driving home from Birmingham the other day I found it so hard to keep my focus on prayer. I wanted to pray. Not a broken prayer, interrupted by the other thoughts and distractions of the day, but something whole... something coherent... something audible. I started praying... before the end of the sentence I was singing the worship song playing from my iPod. I turned the music down really low. Determined, I started praying again... a thought crossed my mind, a daydream, I floated off on it. UGH! I snapped back. OK! I decided to try something I read in Jean Guyon's book "Experiencing the Depths of Jesus Christ". She says to pray an Our Father, out loud, all the way through, slowly, interjecting as you go, using it to bring in God's presence. I thought I might be able to focus my brain if I prayed a couple Our Fathers first. "Our Father," I started, "What does that mean anyway, God? Father. Father like…? Like what? What is a father? What does a father do? Like what would YOU be like as a father? I don’t understand, Papa... Papa! I can't help but call you Father and Papa and I don't even know what it means! I'm a funny creation, Papa! Please... show me what You mean by Father. Show me how that looks, because all of my examples fall short. I know You aren't like that. What do You really mean by Father?"
…
My dad isn’t perfect. And when my mother and him separated I didn’t see him much. He wasn’t always as capable of being open emotionally as he has become in the last couple years, but he had his wonderful moments. My favorite memory with my dad was when I was 9 years old. I was lying on his lap, my head against his chest, while he watched tv in his big giant gray chair. I wasn't feeling good and he was rubbing my back. After a while he figured I fell asleep and he stopped. And I just sat against him while he breathed, pretending to sleep but secretly trying to breathe in and out at the same time as him. With every breath I would breathe in his scent- vanilla pipe tobacco and sweat. I can still smell it when I close my eyes. He still smells like that too. And I remember it was hard to keep up with him. His lungs were bigger of course and he took longer to exhale than inhale. My lungs ached with the task. But I did it for hours... I did it until he carried me to my own bed.
God… Papa… Father… I want to sit with you and breath in and out with you... forever. Until I don't ache with the task. Wrapped up with You. Is that what kind of a Father you are?
It’s a start.
…
I can’t wait to see what else Father means…

Thanks

I woke up yesterday morning with thanks in my heart, and on my lips! I actually woke up in a prayer. I must have been saying it in my dreams and then as I woke it transferred from dream to consciousness. I have heard of people waking up screaming or crying, though I've never experienced it, but this was the first time I've ever woken myself in audible prayer. My prayer? Thank You Lord, for a new day... Thank You Father, for You are good... Thank you Jesus, for Your sacrifice! For ten minutes I exhausted my memory, my imagination and my thoughts, thanking the Lord for everything I could. The night before I laid in bed humbled from a day of conviction and revelation, and I was in search of forgiveness when I drifted from consciousness to sleep. Jesus must of surrounded me in his peace and assurance while I slept because I was full of joy and thanks that morning. I spent the day thanking the Lord every time I wanted to complain and filling my thoughts with boisterous thanksgiving whenever there was silence.

It was a joyous day, filled with confirmations of His love and devotion to me, but my favorite Godbumps moment was that night at St. Rose Bible study. Father Sebastien explained the idea of Jesus as the Lamb of God. A brief overview: During the time of Moses, when God was freeing the Israelites from the Egyptians, He told them to mark their thresholds with the blood of a lamb so He would know not to take their firstborn sons. This was called the Passover because anyone marked with the blood of the lamb would be passed over during the time of wrath. Jesus was the new Lamb, marking God's children with His blood that we might be passed over in the time of wrath. The significance of that, is of course, that it wasn't one day of mercy but rather, by His sacrifice and His blood, we are saved everyday! Forever more! The Passover is no longer a day of celebration but rather a life-time of joy and... what?... THANKSGIVING! I love my God so much! Isn't he amazing?

Absolute Awe

On my recent roadtrip across the western half of the United States I discovered something... Jesus is HUGE and he is absolutely EVERYWHERE! Over the last month I have experienced the Lord in the most mysterious, the most bizarre and even the most seemingly trivial things.

It all started... that doesn't work... let me try again. My friend Jo actually offered me a good way to express what I am saying. There is a song by MeWithoutYou that we don't know the name of, that says "I spent my whole life trying to find where You [God] were, but now I can't find where You're not." BRILLIANT! When she told me about those lyrics I was like, "So True!" I can't help but be absolutely amazed by God's creations; not just by humans, though they have their amazing qualities, or by incredible incidents, thought there have been many, but by the earth itself. We have driven through 7 states in the last week and even in the small portion of the world that we have experienced I have had my breath stolen from my chest by God so many times my soul is left eternally gasping! In Arizona there are rocks suspended on other rocks, boulders stacked on boulders. It seems like the entire structure should just collapse, but some miraculous balance of weight and wonder keeps them in place. Did I say wonder? I meant the Lord! When you see them it looks like something huge just soccer-kicked the boulders to the tops of the others and they stuck.

It made me think of the absolutely amazing artistic ability of our God. Have you ever looked at a painting or a drawing and wondered where the artist got the idea to put things where they were and how it was such a good blend of color and abstract and symmetry and the opposite? The biggest mural I've ever seen was maybe the side of an 8 story building. God did it with the entire earth! THE ENTIRE EARTH! It gives new meaning to that "world is my canvas" statement.

Did you know that every snowflake is different? The knowledge of this while Jo and I crossed the east Oregon pass in a snowy blizzard was almost overwhelming. I was thinking how long it takes me to even articulate one unique sentence and then tried to imagine every sentence as a snowflake and realized that I don't think I have articulated as many sentences in my LIFETIME as I saw snowflakes on the road tonight. Excuse me a moment while I PRAISE THE LORD!

While on the coast, witnessing the pacific ocean for the thousandth time with close to as much awe as Jo did while she witnessed it for the first time, I was struck with an idea that I've had before but never to that extent... God made the earth in such a way that it praises him always. Even if no man were present on the Oregon sands, the ocean would still praise God. The waves would still call out to God as they stirred the sands along the shore and rise and bow as they raced each other to the end of their lives... the wind would still blow through the dry reeds and keep the long grasses singing and swaying, adoring God. They are thankful for their creation and they become more passionate the harder the weather. Why can't I be so enthusiastic?

But I am full of praise and worship tonight as I recount these wonders and marvel at the one's I am blessed with right now. Thank you Lord for being everywhere. Thank you for your extravagance, your beauty, your miracles and especially, thank you Lord for your grandeur.