Breaking

‎"How did I get here? I'm not who I once was. Am I crippled by the fear that I've fallen too far to love?"-Tenth Avenue North, "You are More"

Falling apart, spiraling out of control. My life the past few days has been one miserable failure to love. Anxiety, depression, strain and stress and a breaking heart, coupled with physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion and the cares and frustration with running on 60-70% energy almost constantly have broken me.

I have no strength. I can't fight, I can't love, I'm slowly unravelling and I'm going to end by hurting everyone I've ever loved. A walking disaster of bitterness and betrayal, abandonment and angst, bump me and I'll bleed toxic waste. I've already hurt people I love, and that's killing me slowly, bleeding out from an imperceptible wound. Throughout the past semester, my one comfort was that no matter how much I screwed up, no matter how unhinged I came, I was still learning to love. And now...epic fail beyond that of all epic fails. Eyes wide open, hands free, I destroyed my one security-the belief that I could love.

Crippled by fear...that's so incredibly true. I'm starving for love and acceptance that I've convinced myself I no longer have. I need. So much. And this intense need is driving the very people I need farther and farther away. Without this assurance of love and sense of belonging, I feel like I'm slowly dying inside. But the very pursuit of being loved is killing me too.

I'm too far gone, I think. I'm an emotional wreck. Each mood swing more drastic than the last, the pent-up pressure can only result in an explosion. And when I explode, it won't be pretty. So look out world, cause I'm dying, and I won't go down gently. Slipping into the dark, grasping at straws that I know won't save me, falling off a cliff with nothing to break the landing.

After our Reynolds session last night, my biggest realization was this: Love is the most important thing in the world. And I'm screwing that up. So I'm basically gone, burnt out by a passion I didn't have strength to maintain.

Change

I hate change. I really do, and I always have. Change is unsettling. When life is good, and things are comfortable and going well, there's no need for change. And when things are bad...they can always get worse. Change, in my mind, is almost always for the worse. And so I fight change and cling to tradition, cling to old friendships and old loves and old habits, grabbing on to weathered and worn weapons to protect me against the terrifying unknown. But sometimes, spring cleaning needs to happen. Sometimes the worn-down habits and strongly-held ideas need to go, need to be cleared away to make room for better beliefs, better friendships, better loves.

So at the beginning of a new semester, because I am a new creation, it's time for some changes. It's time to clear out the cobwebs of my soul and let in a little light.

1) I need to rest. Hectic hustle and bustle is killing me. Stress and anxiety about things I can't control is wearing me down. Rest restores. Rest relieves. But rest is also something I honestly don't know how to practice. So this semester, even with an 18-unit load and on-campus job, I'm going to make it a habit to deliberately and daily rest in the Lord for everything, but also take specific moments in the day to stop. Be still. And rest.

2) Spaces. Because not everything in life is a life-or-death situation, and little things matter. One space between sentences. Because I don't have to be right about everything.

3) Love. I don't get it. But I need to accept it without trying to be worthy of it. I need to give it without wondering how and if it will be accepted. God loves me. And I tend to forget that. But that's where everything starts. If I don't know that He loves me, if I don't remember that His love is unearned and constant, then there's no possibility that I can either give or accept that love. This semester, I want to love God, and remember that I am loved by God, so that I can love the people God has given me to love, and not doubt their love for me.

4) Humility. I may not act like it, but I am a ridiculously prideful person. I don't accept help easily. I don't change easily. With this pride comes a great deal of stubbornness and refusal to change, simply because I have to do things my own way, for myself. And this has hurt not only me, but a lot of other people. To everyone who's been hurt by my stubbornness and refusal to listen, I'm sorry. To everyone who's dealt with the consequences of my refusal to change, I'm sorry. To everyone who's borne with me throughout this past semester and interterm, thank you. The only reason I am a new creation is because Christ has made me so. The only way I can change is because God has given me the desire to change, and because He is making a beautiful thing out of me. This semester, I want to submit. Submit to God's plans for me. Submit to my professors' and mentor's corrections. Submit to my friends' wise insights into my flaws and failings, and then change.

Change is hard. But good. And it never stops, but I am confident of this: that He who began a good work in me will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

one step forward, half a mile back

Worn out, falling over, grasping at the last straw

hoping it'll hold me up for just a moment longer

hoping with each step I take I'll somehow come out stronger

breaking down, giving up, heart cracked in two through a fatal flaw.

each step forward feels like another mile run

on shattered legs, with rasping lungs

death of everything i thought was given back to me

losing sight of everything I thought I'd finally learned to see

a whirlwind spinning out of control, sweeping away the pieces of my life

dust and debris and dirty broken secrets

regret for all the words I couldn't hold back

feeble apologies, bandaids to hide the knifes I twisted in their hearts

why am i so tired?

stop. peace, be still. rest in the center of the storm,

the still center of the whirling world. do not lose heart

let the wind batter, the world rage, the weight of glory fall

heavy on tired shoulders. He gives me strength to bear it.

Hindsight is 20/20

2010 was a weird year. Less of an emotional roller coaster than the previous few years, it was nonetheless a year of change and confrontation, two things which I avoid at all costs. A year of transition, of endings and beginnings, of old relationships fading and new relationships springing up in their stead. A year of changing from a child to an adult, from a high schooler with classes planned for her and easily accomplished workloads to a college student with decisions to make and her own schedule to balance. A year of changing dynamics in relationships with both family and friends, and a year of confrontation over the difficulties in many of those relationships.

Far more important and far more lasting than any of these small tweaks and turns in my life are the lessons I've finally begun to learn. Each year, different issues have begun to surface in my life, and each year, I've tried again and again to perfect myself, to conquer my vices, to overcome my struggles by my own strength. 2010 has been a year where God has complete stripped away everything that is not of Him; my pride and insecurities and the lesser goods I've refused to loosen my grip on. (Yes, I ended a sentence with a preposition. Deal with it.) The various issues I've dealt with all throughout high school finally came together at the end of this year, crashing over me in such an unavoidable manner, like a tsunami raging through a defenseless village, that I could do nothing but surrender completely and give up everything. You won't relent until You have it all, will you God? He wants everything I am and everything I have to be wholly devoted to Him. And this year, He finally broke through to me.

2010 began uneventful but with promise. A relatively smooth senior year, acceptance into both schools of choice, a newly forming band, and a return trip to the DR (Dominican Republic for those who haven't been) gave me something to look back on and something to look forward to. But between the beginning of January with its new beginnings and February with the promised return to a place where for once in my life everything felt right, something snapped. A relationship gone sour, an involuntary relinquishment of the peace and stability I had only held for a few short weeks, and I was back where I had been at the end of 2009: anxious, constantly tense, and emotionally exhausted.

Through a combination of clashing ideals and personalities and multiple misunderstandings and miscommunications, one of the friendships I prized the most was on the edge of a knife, only maintained by my sheer refusal to let go. This affected the missions trip I had looked forward to so much, turning it into a nightmare as I was constantly with one of the people I both respected and hated the most. It also affected the band which was to have been my creative outlet and emotional release during the year, turning it into a battleground for personal problems; a battle which I eventually lost and made a hasty retreat to avoid being unceremoniously booted off the playing field. In less melodramatic terms, I was an emotional wreck during the DR trip, and I left the band I had formed so I couldn't get kicked out. Throughout the tension of this particular relationship, I also had to deal with the decisions regarding college which I had pushed aside until this spring. Being accepted into the Torrey Honors Institute, and later on, the Conservatory of Music as a BA was a strong pull for Biola, yet I could tell that my parents still favored Providence. Wavering back and forth between schools and majors, waiting for a friendship to collapse completely, wondering when I would ever have complete clarity in my life and wishing for that unrememberable time when I was young and free of worry (unrememberable because I'm nearly positive that time never existed, at least not later than elementary school), there was absolutely nothing I could do. And yet I fought.

April, everything finally fell into place. I sent in my deposit for Biola and made the official decision to attend the Torrey Honors Institute as a double major in music with piano emphasis and English with writing emphasis (and no, I don't regret this decision for a moment). I had an amazing senior recital for piano, though I had been dreading it since the project began to take shape. And this relationship, such a subconscious strain in everything I did, was finally reconciled and the healing process began. (We went to Disneyland with a few other friends the next day-one of the best days of the year. Disneyland really is one of the happiest places on earth). With a restored friendship, a new band which I came back to as manager, and graduation just around the corner, I was ready for anything.

Summer 2010 was one of the best times of my life. Decisions regarding college had been made and thus were no longer a stress. High school was done forever, and I had three months to spend with my best friends before going to the school I had dreamed of attending for the past several years. Almost every day was spent with the people I cared about most, relaxing and rejoicing (and plenty of Dr. Who watching). Of course, I knew all that would change when I went to college, but I pushed that inconvenient thought to the back of my mind. One friend in particular tried to get me to accept the inevitable change, and not only accept but welcome it, but it was summer. I still had a month of vacation left. I was happy, and I wasn't going to think about people leaving. I hate it when people leave.

As the time for me to leave for Biola (leaving in the mental/emotional sense, as it was less than 20 minutes from my home), I began to dread the actual leaving. Having deep-rooted issues with abandonment and a resulting inability to let go of people I loved which started with my grandmother's death of cancer when I was 12 and was made more pronounced by a traumatic end to a relationship around the same time as my other grandmother's health issues, I resisted any sort of change and refused to admit that things could change for the better. Going to Biola while my friends went their various ways forced me to confront these issues for the first of many times. Compounding the tension was the knowledge that said traumatic-ending relationship was perhaps not completely over, as the friend involved in this relationship was also attending Biola and Torrey, and with the many mutual friends, we would inevitably be forced to confront, or at least re-connect. Having finally come to terms with the fact that I was over things in this relationship, knowing that this relationship wasn't actually over forced me to rethink things completely. Little could I have known that this relationship, with all its attached strain and stress, would be the basis for both the confrontation and reconciliation of some of the issues I had been dealing with all throughout high school.

Coming to Biola was by far the high point of the year. The people loved and the lessons learned have made this semester a life changing one. Although I was studying what I loved and thriving in Torrey, my stress levels increased as my sleep decreased, and with sleep's decrease, so did general levels of sanity and well-being. Considering how good my life was, it was rather odd that my emotional life should have been so traumatic, but then again, re-opening old wounds tends to do that. Seeing this friend again after two years to wonder, wish, and finally attempt to move on brought back a lot of issues I had never intended to confront. As we became closer and old feelings re-surfaced, so did the old fears of abandonment due to my own failures. Over and over again, in various ways and with various people, I loved and was loved in return, panicked that they would leave me and that I couldn't be good enough for them, and was finally reassured by them and God that I was safe. Over and over again, God tried to get me to let go of my fears and failures, bringing me again and again to a point of brokenness, and again and again, I tried to pull myself back together and be good enough for God.

Finally, He won. After a mild panic attack near the end of the semester, I realized how much my stress and strain was killing my joy and love. Physically and emotionally, I was spent. I had nothing left and I knew it. The only option was to die or be reborn. Having to let go of friends, of my own pride and neurotic need for perfection, of everything that was not God, I have gained so much more. Giving up, I have been given the greatest gift of grace and the perfect promise of hope. Seeking and striving for love and acceptance, I wore myself down. Seeking to see God, the only thing that will bring true happiness, I see the face of Love. God is Love, and I will abide in Love, and Love overflows from me.

Musings on 1 John

1 John 3

Love

abide in Him, rest, be still

deep-rooted presence surrounding me

the Father has given me love

how then shall I live?

live like God for God is love

purify yourself for God is pure

abide in Him who is without sin

abide, be birthed from, filled with righteousness

Love, lay down your life.

Love, abide in the purified heart.

Love, gift of God, give to others.

Love, do not condemn our hearts this day.

Abide in love which is God for God is love.

Abide in us, o un-created Creator.

Abide in us, o Son of sacrifice.

Abide in us, o God-sent Spirit.

Abide in me, o love divine.

Adding to the Noise

So much has been going on lately, and every new situation has just been adding to the stress and general anxiety of being a senior and being a human being living with human beings.  

Shakespeare is an amazing class-we've got a fantastic group, we have good discussions and I love the papers; Faith is difficult, the testing ground of Torrey, but what doesn't kill me will make me stronger, right?

Emotional girls should just get mood rings and save their friends the wanting to murder them, right?  I used to hate Christmas, I love it now; I was so anxious and worried, and now I'm pretty cool with life; I had no hope and there's a light at the end of the tunnel for me now...love you Reliant K, you got it so right :P

music makes me so happy...coldplay singing Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, Coldplay live album free, anything coldplay=wonderful bliss; just discovered Jack's Mannequin and love them; Copeland Do You Hear What I Hear is fantastic; waiting for mae's (a)fternoon EP; i love music

Dominican is coming!!!!!  two months and ten days or so!!!!!  need money...

So that's my life right now...Merry Christmas everyone!

So I didn't go to Lancaster because I came down with a fever again on Thursday night...my mom thinks I had swine flu. Bleh.  

In other news, clep tests continue to abound, I should be practicing much more piano if I really want to have a senior recital, I missed out on mae and Deas Vail last night :(  and I got a new phone :)  Its very pretty, which makes me happyish.  

I need peace and quiet, I need to trust in God rather than managing everything myself but I can't let go for very long...

St. Annes-On-the-Hill

Someday...I want to have a home, where everyone is welcome at all times,

where there is always a kettle of tea boiling or a pot of coffee brewing, where I can reach

into the cupboard and pull out oatmeal chocolate chip cookies or a freshly baked tart

from the oven to serve to the friends who dropped by for a visit.  

Where laughter and tears are equally shared in comfy couches and chairs 

around a fire, where no topic of discussion is shied away from, where

everybody is free to speak their minds, and the Great Conversation

never ends, where the dialectic is pursued in love, where goodness

truth and beauty are earnestly sought after with true companions.

A home filled with beauty, art hanging on the walls from

dead masters and living companions skilled in drawing

or painting, where music is always filling the halls,

the piano lid is always open, or friends bring violins,

cellos, guitars, flutes, drums, and St. Anne's On The Hill

is never silent.  Voices raised in song, an admiring group

gathered to hear the latest story or poem, duets 

practiced, melodies intertwining in beautiful conversation.

A room filled with books, shelves upon shelves

of dark mahogany from floor to ceiling, and each book

is a friend.  There are comfortable chairs to read

or daydream in, and people are exclaiming aloud as they

read, talking about their books.  Scribbled notes to another

companion, chocolate or tear stains, exclamations

and remembered quotes, all these line the margins

of the books, a conversation between the friends

and the authors gone before and all else who read

these books.  

Where everyone is welcome, where truth

goodness and beauty are pursued together

where love of God and love of one another

are the most important things in the world

where true friends have everything in common, 

this is a little piece of heaven.  This is home.

Descent into Life

Wheatstone is over, done, fin.  We were living on the mountain, now we must descend into the fog and blurred vision and rough, uneven terrain of everyday life.  On the mountain, high above the clouds, everything was vivid, clear, reality was not only in sight but in reach.  We could see, hear, touch, and taste real things, not just a shadow through the mists.  People were so real, so vibrant, so alive, on this mountain.  Without distraction or external cares, with nothing to worry but the burdens each one carried themselves, each sorrow and joy, each failure and triumph, was magnified a thousand times and shaped and molded us.  On the mountain, beauty was everywhere, in art, in music, in our companions most of all.  To quote Dr. Reynolds, people were so alive and wonderful that all you could do was to exclaim through tears of joy "My God!  The very face of God!"  Joy was there, up on the mountain, and so was grief.  But then, as always, we began the long descent into the real world.  Though reality was on the mountain, we can not bear reality for very long.  We all must come down from the mountain, through the fog and smog and rocky paths back to the world we live in.  Sometimes, the fog is so thick that we can barely see, barely remember what beauty was atop the mountain.  We become discouraged, tired, unwilling to go on.  But when we need it most, a song, a sunset, a smile remind us of the beauty we could touch and taste on the mountain, and we take courage and press on.  Living below the mountain, let us never forget what we saw.  After beholding such raw glory, beauty, and pain, we must carry that memory with us always, strengthening and spurring us onward until we ascend the mountain once more.  For "All shall be well and/ All manner of thing shall be well/ When the tongues of flame are in-folded/ Into the crowned knot of fire/ And the fire and the rose are one."

3 more days...

until Wheatstone.  I'm really really excited to be back in a community of intellectual, thinking students :)  To be reminded once again what the good life looks like, to renew my desire to develop a well-ordered soul, to challenge myself and stretch myself ever harder, but also to rest from the distractions of the outside world...Wheatstone will be good.  Since Wheatstone last year, there has been a lot of turbulence in my life, a lot of confusion and being blown hither and thither by many influences.  In a sense, I feel slightly like Harriet Vane, returning to Shrewsbury and the academic life after much time in a dramatic and distracting outer world.  (I have a tendency to compare almost every incident in my life to a book or movie, so bear with me :P)  But I'm very happy to be returning to Wheatstone and I look forward to seeing what new goodness, truth, and beauty I will discover through it :)

Museum musings...

Yesterday, I had the privilege of spending an amazing day at the Norton Simon museum in Pasadena with some amazing Torrey friends: Gabriel, Emily, Mary Kate, Christian, Jonathan, Rafael, Jessie, and Katie (plus the amazing chauffeur/bringer of sandwiches-Mrs. Nelson).  It had been ages and ages since I had been to an art museum, so I was very excited to be able to spend some time with good friends and beautiful art :)  However, I came away from the museum somewhat disturbed and confused in soul.  Art-paintings, sculptures, alterpieces, and such-is amazingly beautiful (for the most part).  A few paintings in particular caught my eye while I was there...one by Monet of an adorable garden and house, and another 19th century piece of a huge cathedral interior (I don't remember which one :(  But as I looked more and more at the painting of the church in particular, and contemplated how vast and glorious cathedrals are compared to men, I realized something.  This art is so much more beautiful than what we think we encounter on a daily basis...but the people around us are even more beautiful, because they are real.  Monet's paintings of his gardens are some of my favorite in the world, and yet the garden outside my window is even more beautiful, because it is real.  It saddens me sometimes, that it takes a museum for me to see the beauty in those around me.  But perhaps this is the purpose of art...to make us look back to the original that it reflects?  Coming away from the museum, though, I realized that the most beautiful artwork I saw yesterday was not any of the paintings on the wall nor any of the sculptures in the garden, but the friends that I spent the day with.

Torrey Academy, how I love thee!

Last night, I had the great honour of attending once again the Torrey Banquet.  Being surrounded by family and friends, being with those I had discussed and argued with all year long, meeting face to face those who before were only a colour and a font, a name without a background behind it, all these and more were blessings of the banquet.  

Congratulations to all who placed in the term paper contest!!!  Gabriel, your paper was amazing :)  Jonathan, I have to read yours.  Fellow FAT/FoOF winners, and to the Inklings winners, congratulations and I am honoured to stand in your company.  

Ahh, Torrey Academy, thou has been good to me.  From the first time I walked into Inklings, not knowing a soul and confident that I knew it all, to the final day of Foundations, rejoicing with classmates who had become friends, and learning with new humility, Torrey has been a journey of humility, of faith, of camraderie, of growth, of pursuit of goodness truth and beauty.  But most importantly, it has been a journey to find God.  Often I've lost sight of the ultimate goal, getting lost in the page long sentences of Locke, confusing theology of Williams, and late night reflection essays on Lewis and Lincoln.  But you my dear classmates and friends and tutors, never cease to bring me back and open my eyes anew to the wonder of God's holiness, wisdom, and love.  

This morning, I attended my younger sister's homeschool open house.  One of her classmates gave a dramatic recitation of the passage in Acts where Peter and John heal the lame man.  I had heard this story frequently, as all good Sunday School children have.  Today, however, I heard the story with a new understanding.  Too often we go through life begging for alms, asking for things, and in the case of Torrey, asking our tutors for the answers to hard questions, extensions or excused assignments.  We don't look up to glory and to God, but down at the papers to be written, books to be read, things to be done, and always ask ask ask.  But as Peter and John did, our tutors come along, and instead of giving us what we think we want, they command us, "Rise up and walk.  Take charge of your own education.  Own your beliefs.  Learn, think, grow."  They refuse to hand us the answers, but give us the strength to find the answers for ourselves.  And in doing so, our tutors point us up, ever higher, to God.  

Thank you, Miss Romero, Mr. Bartel, for your unfailing love for me.  Thank you for refusing to let me take the easy way out, but giving me the strength to look up to God.  Thank you, fellow classmates of Yorba Linda, for discussing with me and encouraging me and making this year such a memorable one.  Thank you, dear Torrey friends, for walking this journey with me.  

Thank you God, for Torrey Academy, which points me to you.  Soli Deo Gloria!

50th post!!!! (...and other things)

Hurrah for the 50th post!!!!!  Thank you to all my wonderful followers who have been with me since August :)  This is a happy day.

-Fun stuff...today I hung out at the Spectrum with a few good Torrey friends...Grace Ciccarello, Amy Van Vlear, Tim Chan, and Cree McCook.  Amazing times...isn't torrey fun when you can hang out with great friends...and yet you haven't seen them above 3 or so times?

-Christmas is almost over...today is the 5th day of Christmas for those of you who weren't counting.

-A new bedspread can make your whole room look different.  Everything suddenly looks brighter because of my new quilt!

-It's been getting warmer and warmer...almost warm enough for new rainbows!!!

Hurrah for randomness, yes?

Beauty in the Modern Church-part 2

To continue on this topic from a few days ago...this afternoon I took Sarah to lunch at a charming restaurant in Old Town Orange called PJ's Abbey.  Formerly a Victorian Baptist Church built in 1891, it is now an American style restaurant.  It was absolutely gorgeous :)  and I should be able to get some pictures up later today.  For now, here's the description that I wrote while there.

A restaurant in a church.  Strange, you say?  Almost as strange as a church housed within a warehouse, perhaps.  Though clearly a restaurant, with tables and chairs for a cozy meal, waiters bustling round, and cheery holiday music playing, the building still retains a very churchy atmosphere.

Spectacular stained windows tower of the room, reflecting the little bit of sun that shines through on this cloudy day.  A rather small and simple church, much care has been put into its design nonetheless.  High arched windows and a lofty ceiling draw one’s attention upwards to heaven.  Even the wooden beams supporting the antique architecture are carved with a simple, yet elegant picture, showing the amount of work put into each detail of the church.  Both older and more modern artwork adorn the walls in charmingly distressed wooden frames.  The needlepointed chairs, wooden benches resembling old pews, artwork, and indeed every detail, enhance the atmosphere of the old country church.  

Every detail serves a purpose, but every detail is made beautiful as well.  Here there is no division of the practical and the beautiful.  Here there can be seen no schism between functionality and artistry.  Take the old pulpit, for example.  Once it stood at the head of the church, as a stand for the preacher.  Now, it stands as a podium at the entrance to the restaurant.  Yet it is not only a purposeful tool, but a beautiful piece of artwork.  Here and throughout the restaurant/church is this mentality reflected; that a thing can be both useful and ornamental.  

7 Things

No, this isn't a blog post about Miley Cyrus.  Rather, on Gabriel's previous suggestion, this is a post of things I love (and hate) about Christmas.  We'd rather end on a happy note, right?  So let's start off with the 7 things I hate about Christmas

1) More stress.  nuff said

2) worrying who to buy gifts for, and the possibility of not having a gift for someone who has one for you, or getting someone a gift when they weren't expecting one from you and having it turn into an awkward situation...

3) cheesy or annoying christmas music (Hippopotamus Song) playing consistantly on the radio.

4) not being able to find what you want at a store because someone bought it for their cousin Lina

5) super sappy emotional sentiments, when everyone believes that people will be nice now, because it's Christmas

6) Two whole weeks without schoolwork...so boring. (kidding about this one, mostly ;)

7) not being able to figure out what to give your dad since he already has 5 of the same tie that you've given him for 5 years in a row (I haven't actually done that, but serious, what do you get parents who can't possibly use any more stuff?)

And now, for 7 things I love about Christmas...

1) Christmas trees!

2) Decorating houses, trees, cookies, anything really :)

3) Christmas music...so many good songs out there :)

4) food...eggnog, gingerbread, peppermint, etc. the list goes on

5) a time to let go of external worries and focus on family and Christ

6) traditions such as advent, opening christmas pjs on christmas eve, 

7) pondering torreyish questions such as the incarnation of Christ, why Christ came the way He did, etc...

I could go on and on forever with this list, Christmas is such a wonderful time!

A Thought

Last night, I had an interesting conversation with my mother regarding my blog address, inquisitive inkblot. A bit of background information first...we were talking about various people from bubbs whom I had recently met.  I mentioned that since developing relationships with people online I had begun to pay much more attention to the look of words, almost as much as the sound.  In addition I had started associating people with their fonts/colours, so it was interesting to meet them and see whether or not they matched up with their fonts.  

In the course of this discussion I happened to mention that it was especially fun online to type out the abbreviations for the class names, FAT and FOOF.   And then of course inkie or inkblot, which isn't as fun though.  In mentioning inkblot, my blog title came up.  My mom pointed out the fact that I was no longer an inklings student, and therefore perhaps the name was not quite as appropriate anymore.  I considered this for a moment, but then realized...the only other alternative in that case, would be to rename my blog "inquisitive FAT student"  Because I'm used to seeing FAT written out, I never really thought about how it actually sounded until I said it...wow.  We were both laughing about that one for quite a while. 

So how bout it?  Anyone thing I should rename my blog? ;)

We're over here by Qwerty to talk about what we've learned today....

...and so what we have learned, applies to our lives to say, and God has a lot to say in His book!  We know that God's word is for everyone, and now that our song is done let's take a look.

:)  Fun stuff, right?  But I think Veggie Tales did get something right...it's important to step back and look at what we've learned after we've experienced something.  Especially in the case of something so busy as my missions trip, it's easy to get caught up in doing doing doing, which was what we were there to do, after all.  But now that I'm home and it's all over, now is a good time to look at a few of the things I've learned.

1) One of the biggest things I learned is to just let go and let God be in control of everything.  Partly because of oldest child syndrome, partly just because it's my nature, I feel a big need to be personally responsible for a lot of people, to be personally responsible that everything runs smoothly.  For the most part, I knew on a big trip like this I couldn't have everything under control...but I made it an especial point to watch out for a few close friends.  Well, Tuesday night as many of you may know, 7 girls came down with stomach flu related illnesses and had to go to the hospital, one of my best friends Amy among them.  I had done my best to look out for her during the trip...but when she got sick, I just couldn't handle it.  Someone I loved was in pain and there was nothing I could do.  Looking back on it though, I think that God was saying "Let go of the reins Elizabeth.  Everything is in my hands, you don't have to be responsible for it all."  It was a hard lesson to learn...but a very crucial one as well.

2) Prayer. Is. Powerful.  This was a time when we needed prayer desperately...and it came.  There were so many instances where we prayed and I could see God working...so I'll just share two.  First, one of the girls in our group who went to the hospital, Alli, was really sick still the next morning when we needed to come home, and the doctor said she wouldn't come out of the hospital to come home with us.  One of the men in the church who runs the orphanage and school came and prayed for her...said "She's coming home today" and just poured out his heart to God...and she came home with us and is perfectly fine now.  Amazing.  The other thing...Tuesday night when everyone was getting really sick was really stressful for all of us...I was really exhausted and upset, breaking down sobbing, and for those of you who know me...I never cry.  Ever.  So it was a big deal.  I got home, and one of my friends told me, "You know, I just felt the need to pray for you on Tuesday night, I don't know why but I did."  Amazing once again, how he felt the need to pray just when I, and the group needed it most.

So much more that i could tell you about, but don't have time or room.  It was an absolute amazing trip, God did miraculous things.  If you want pretty pictures... Dominican Pictures are here :)  Check them out, leave happy comments :)  

Under the mercy,

Elizabeth

Baptism

Exciting times!!!  Last night, my dad, mom, brother, and I were baptized...in our jacuzzi in our back yard.  Probably one of the most unorthodox baptisms I've ever heard of, but it was an amazing experience.  Pictures will be coming shortly, as soon as I can get them here on the laptop.  But here's a little something I wrote in my journal this morning...:)

"Baptism...last night, in obedience to the commands of Christ, Mom, Dad, Josh, and I were baptized.  It's weird though, how dunking someone underwater can come to be such a profound symbol of the Christian faith.  IT's as if, when we go under the water, we're dying and being buried with Christ, and then being resurrected again, as he was.  Not only that, but our old natures, full of sin and pride, are dying and we are raised again new creatures.  New creatures with new hearts.  And this is what I want.  Through my baptism, I want to publicly declare that "I once was lost but now am found."  I am a fully committed, born again believer.  I know, that I can not be righteous by my own works.  And so, I want to give my life anew to Christ.  Not my will but HIs be done in my life.  Here I stand, so help me God.

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost,

Amen."

The Last Hero

Today in class, Mr. Bartel read us a very lovely poem by Chesterton which got me to thinking about a lot of things.  Below is the poem, and below the below will be some of my thoughts.  

The wind blew out from Bergen from the dawning to the day,
There was a wreck of trees and fall of towers a score of miles away,
And drifted like a livid leaf I go before its tide,
Spewed out of house and stable, beggared of flag and bride.
The heavens are bowed about my head, shouting like seraph wars,
With rains that might put out the sun and clean the sky of stars,
Rains like the fall of ruined seas from secret worlds above,
The roaring of the rains of God none but the lonely love.
Feast in my hall, O foemen, and eat and drink and drain,
You never loved the sun in heaven as I have loved the rain.

The chance of battle changes -- so may all battle be;
I stole my lady bride from them, they stole her back from me.
I rent her from her red-roofed hall, I rode and saw arise,
More lovely than the living flowers the hatred in her eyes.
She never loved me, never bent, never was less divine;
The sunset never loved me, the wind was never mine.
Was it all nothing that she stood imperial in duresse?
Silence itself made softer with the sweeping of her dress.
O you who drain the cup of life, O you who wear the crown,
You never loved a woman's smile as I have loved her frown.

The wind blew out from Bergen to the dawning of the day,
They ride and run with fifty spears to break and bar my way,
I shall not die alone, alone, but kin to all the powers,
As merry as the ancient sun and fighting like the flowers.
How white their steel, how bright their eyes! I love each laughing knave,
Cry high and bid him welcome to the banquet of the brave.
Yea, I will bless them as they bend and love them where they lie,
When on their skulls the sword I swing falls shattering from the sky.
The hour when death is like a light and blood is like a rose,-
You never loved your friends, my friends, as I shall love my foes.

Know you what earth shall lose to-night, what rich uncounted loans,
What heavy gold of tales untold you bury with my bones?
My loves in deep dim meadows, my ships that rode at ease,
Ruffling the purple plumage of strange and secret seas.
To see this fair earth as it is to me alone was given,
The blow that breaks my brow to-night shall break the dome of heaven.
The skies I saw, the trees I saw after no eyes shall see,
To-night I die the death of God; the stars shall die with me;
One sound shall sunder all the spears and break the trumpet's breath:
You never laughed in all your life as I shall laugh in death.

Beautiful, yes?  This picture of a man abandoned by country and lover, pursued by enemies, fighting, falling, dying.  And all the while, he rejoices.  He finds more beauty in the rain, in the abandonment, in his death, than we can find in light and life and love.  Chesterton shows us an amazing picture of the relationship between beauty and love here perhaps.  This man sees the true beauty that is in the world, and loves it all.  Perhaps...do we need to see a thing as it truly is before we can truly love it?  

So maybe you read this and say, "Beautiful?  What?  This girl has a pretty twisted of beauty if she thinks that a lost and lonely man dying alone in a fight is beautiful."  But are you looking at the world properly then?  There is beauty all around you, in the light and in the shadows, in the sun and in the rain, in the smiles and the frowns, in life and in death.  Look around you!  See the beauty in the world!  Love more truly!  Rejoice!

Suffering

Last night during family devotions, we read the first chapter of 1 Peter.  One verse that especially stood out to me was verse 7.  

"In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials.  These have come so that your faith-of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire-may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory, and honour when Jesus Christ is revealed."  (1 Peter 1:6-7, NIV)

I think it's interesting that frequently we as Christians pray to God that our trials may be taken away, and that He would take us out of the valley of the shadow of death so that we may go on our way rejoicing and be merry little Christians for the rest of our lives.  But Peter counters that view very effectively here.  He makes it quite clear that we have to suffer trials, in order that our faith may be proved genuine, and that God may be glorified.

Sometimes yes, we suffer because Satan is tempting us as he did Job.  Sometimes, we will suffer because of our own human stupidity and fallen nature.  But always, these sufferings are meant to make us grow, to purify our hearts and burn away everything that is not of God.  Therefore, rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, rejoice!