week 1

[Entries from the journal]

Friday, January 27, 2012,

…Had my first authentic fish and chips at The Pheasant Inn…never want it again. :D

I wonder how L’Abri will be.
15:05

(On the bus to Liss) Sheep were grazing on the bank of the highway!
15:20

Saturday, January 28, 2012,

First night at L’Abri complete. Cold! Heart racing all night.

Yoghurt and granola and toast and tea, this morning. The choir—made up of L’Abri students—has assembled this morning. Their melodies waft through the cracks in our worn wooden floor. My bunk is neat—checkered comforter warming my sheets. Jet lag calls me to sleep, but I shall not succumb, so that I may rest deeply this eve.
A cold fog coats our dorm windows.

A relentless aching band squeezes my head. Fatigue pulls on my eyes. “Give thanks in all circumstances.” Okay, what good is there to be found in today’s physical discomforts? Father, please allow me the grace to find good first in small discomforts. May Your praise be continually welling up in my heart and spilling forth from my lips! “Be joyful always. Pray continually.”
09:10

My first morning of studying. I’ve found a cozy spot with a desk by a window. The morning rays glow gentle and white through the makeshift curtain overlaid with stitched flowers. The lamp perched upon the desk casts a welcome glow over my desk’s cassette player and reading material. 1st book: One Thousand Gifts.
09:33

Tuesday, January 31, 2012,

Filling thirty glasses of water for lunch—thinking of oil jars that never ran dry.
As we give thanks, the miracle of joy continues to fill up our cup—like oil overflowing (thinking on One Thousand Gifts).


I am learning to give thanks.
Give thanks when a fire burns warm in the den at 11:00 tea.
Give thanks when hands are numb from hanging damp laundry in the winter air.
Give thanks when heat is sapped from my core at the break of dawn, in the midday, and in the black of night.
Give thanks when grating ginger.
Give thanks when stacking mounds of chopped wood.
Give thanks when scrubbing porcelain toilets and vacuuming tired carpets.
Give thanks: in the heavy peace of study by a crackling fire.
--in the warm conversation of new friends at dinner, candles and spirits burning bright.
--in each step closer in the frosty air to the closest town.
Give thanks!
And the joy always follows!
I taste a gossamer joy—sugary sweet wafers that melt in my mouth in the most menial tasks, in exhaustion, in frustration. How gentle the gratitude, how sweet the taste!

This week, as I ache for relational depth, build new friendships, wrestle deep questions, and adjust to the routine and structure of this refuge, I find comfort in the continual presence of my loving maker who woos and stills my heart even amidst chaos and who warms my heart when I shiver in discomfort. And the words continually arise, no matter the circumstance, no matter the time—give thanks!


Extra: Tips on Staying Warm

1. The water bottle. Thanks to the Germans, we students at L’Abri are escaping frostbite. I have found that when filled with boiling water and shoved to the end of my bed, I can wake up in the morning with all of my toes intact.
2. Tea. I am now accustomed to at least five cups of tea a day. Tea at breakfast, 11:00, lunch, 4:30, dinner, and on occasion late-night dessert. Tea not only serves at a much-need pick-me-up for the weary soul, but also as an efficient hand warmer. I may, however, need counseling for caffeine addiction when I return to the States.
3. Smartwool. I found, today, after yet another circulation sucking Reynaud’s attack that if I undress my foot, roast my toes for a few minutes by the fire, then quickly shove my warmed sole into a Smartwool sock and then into my fur-lined boots, I can stay quite comfortably warm for a while. However, Smartwool+cold feet=colder feet.

3-day down count

We sit silently, surrounded by hiking gear and high-end socks. She contentedly sips her Dasani water, face peaceful, blank. I slip my arm around her shoulder, and she slides close to me, feet hanging off the wooden bench. “I’m gonna miss you when I’m gone, Sister”

“I’m gonna miss you too.”

“Do you think you’ll stay in our room while I’m away?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there anything that you want to change?”

“You’re only gonna me gone for two months,” smiling eyes meet mine.

January to April—that seems like a good long while, I guess it’s not in the whole scheme of things. Come Thursday, I’ll be hauling a bloated suitcase onto a plane that’ll fly me across the pond to England, away from my Kansas home. Honestly, I was dreading the trip a week ago, but excitement’s welling up in me as the hours until departure slip by. I simply love adventure--it’s divine! The rawness of the unknown, the beauty of discovery, it’s just wonderful. I’m chomping at the bit for a change of scenery, and it’s time for an adventure. Oh, it’s HIGH time for an adventure! (When is it not?...)
I cannot wait to discover what the Lord has in store for these next few months. So much loving prayer has been poured over me regarding this trip, so much encouragement, and so much love. I believe this will be an experience that I’ll draw from for years to come.
Thank you dear friends and sweet family for the love and support you’ve offered me. As excited as I am to go, I’m already as excited to come back home to you all!
Lord willing, next time I write, I shall be across the sea!
Blessings to you all

they are dying!

Your plans are Sovereign, but I can’t comprehend them
Father, do not turn a deaf ear to my weeping!
See, your sheep are deceived
the people of this earth following a deceiver
he clothes himself with light, blinding the simple minded
Oh Father, destruction is their end!
How they wander blindly searching for hope, settling for simple answers they think will save them!
Oh Lord, why?
You have seen my nights of restless slumber
I cry out to you when the sun is high and when it sets
You burden me with sorrow
My prayers continue on for years, and I cannot see Your answers
Oh, Lord, whom I love, rescue Your beloved!
Oh how I love You, and how You frighten me.
I am terrified in Your presence.
Your sovereignty overwhelms me
I am afraid to swerve from Your course
Oh Lord, show me how fleeting is my life that I may not pass disillusioned
Fill me with the fire of Your word
Open my lips that I may boldly proclaim Your salvation
Earthly pleasures forsake me; I need You ever more!
I will die if I don’t hear Your voice.
If You were to become silent, I would hate my life
Oh, how I lose sight! How quickly I am lulled to sleep
I want to know the God I serve!
I want to know the nuances in Your voice; I need to know Your presence.
I want to know the penetration of Your gaze, and fall prostrate in the blinding light of Your presence.

Father, equip us to rescue Your sheep!

"There is a river flowing swiftly
whose streams make glad Jerusalem
the holy place where martyrs worship
the Kingdom where the Most High dwells

now is the time to strip away
where strongholds fall like cracking clay

where hard hearts are steeped in mercy
for the glory of His Name"

If you ceased to love me
I should die
I’d shrivel like a slug in a salt shower
I’d curl up like a frightened roly-poly
I feared my heart was petrified
a hopeless waste of stone
for the last few years I’d traveled
were the strangest this heart’s known
but you came in like a whisper
umbrella’d me with joy
planted flowers in my spirit
and—
You are a rhyme with no beginning
who can’t be summed into and end
You Are who You Are and will be
with whom no darkness contends

Refine

Tell me Maker, won’t You please,
Why blessings come in spades
These are the joyful days

The sun, it woke me up today
I know not what to pray
It seems my heart is glass

Shatter all the thoughts I mask
In You I put my hope
All others have to go

Refine my heart ‘till it is gold
Renew all that is old
Seek and I shall find

Matthew 5:37

Muster on a faithful trot
Weighted by the cares I sought
Repentance is my freeing lot
I beg it claims my heart

Stayed within a purposed stall
Integrity is worth the crawl
If I’m to wash my tongue of gall
I must first lay bare my heart



"Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No,' 'No'; anything beyond this comes from the evil one." Matt. 5:37

rainy-day discipleship

It’s Monday. It’s the most wonderfully dreary day we’ve had thus fall, and I’ve somehow managed to shift my gaze from Christ onto myself. I’m getting ready for work, and spiraling further and further into a generally foul mindset. I whine to my Father about the same aspect of myself that I can’t seem to swallow, and He asks me what my purpose is, “It’s to bring You glory….”

“Are you doing that?”

Good point.

I’ve been mulling the enormity of discipleship in my head all day. It itches me—highlights my shyness to commitment. Yes, I love Jesus; no, I can’t imagine life without Him; yes, I want Him to be in control of my life, but I’m scared. I’m for sure working out my salvation with fear and trembling (Philippians 2:12). The more I encounter the presence of God—the more the awesomeness of the King of Kings administering justice from the throne room becomes a reality, the more I fear my duplicity. Oh Lord, give me grace to serve You with all that I am. Anyway, I’m in. I’m shaking in my boots, but I’m in. I call to Elise in the other room, “Wanna read our Bibles together when I’m done?”

“Sure!”

She’s game. Green light.
So, here we go: discipleship meeting #1. Location: our bedroom floor. Desired impartation: learning to listen and recognize the voice of God.

I inquire if Elise has comprehended Uncle Sam’s teachings on discipleship, the last few Sunday’s. She’s a bit foggy. I do my best to break down the requirements of a disciple (How advanced is the cognitive development of a nine-year-old? Does she comprehend what I’m saying? Okay, I trust the Holy Spirit inside of us both—onward). A disciple understands that the Lord has complete control over her life; she wants to know Jesus—knows the joy of obedience and learning to listen to His voice. I ask if Elise has ever heard Jesus’ voice; she hits me with an uncertain smile—isn’t sure. “Alright, the Lord speaks in a lot of different ways. Sometimes, when I’m reading the Bible a verse will stand out to me. Sometimes He speaks through dreams—like Dad talks about a lot. Sometimes you will see a picture either with your eyes closed or open, a vision. Sometimes you “hear” a word or phrase in your mind.”

“How do you know it’s His voice?”

“Well, sometimes you have this joyous burning feeling inside you—like when He asks you to do something. Another way to tell if what you’re hearing is from Him is by comparing it to what the Bible says. That’s why it’s so important for us to know the Bible. Like if I’m listening and I ‘hear’ ‘do not fear,’ I know that that’s not from the enemy because it’s in alignment with the truth in my Bible. Negative things like ‘you are worthless’ are not from the Lord. Even when he rebukes or corrects us, it always brings joy. I think the best way to learn how to recognize His voice is by practice. So, wanna give it a shot?” She’s still with me. “Alright, so what we’re going to do is be silent for a few minutes. I’m going to ask the Lord to speak to us (He’s always speaking), and let’s practice setting our minds on Him and waiting in expectation for if He would have anything to speak to us.”

This is awkward. All of my words have been jerking, inexperienced attempts at conveying one of the most central aspects of our walk with Christ. I’m begging the Lord not to let me be put to shame. The silence settles, and awkwardness fades as sneak a glance at my sister—her face peaceful, relaxed, waiting with me, trustful. I settle down. The moments pass in silence.

[Pieces of a worship song slide through my mind. I’m still a bit frenzied. I rest in the beauty of knowing how pleased the Lord must be with this sweet little lamb before me. I know He’s joyous with His daughter….“My grace is sufficient.”]

“Okay. Did you get anything?” She shakes her head. “That’s alright.”

“Did you hear anything?”

“Yeah.” I present the few things I received.

“So do you actually hear His voice, or is it more like your voice in your mind?”

That’s one of those difficult-to-explain things. I fumble an answer, “Yeah, it’s not like I’m hearing his voice with my ears—“

“I know…”

“Yeah, well, you know when you’re thinking about something and words are going through your mind? Kinda like that.”

I feel myself careening down a theological latter. I’m really butchering this. I disregard my futility at affective articulation and move on.

“Let’s try to do this together every day this week. It’s going to be so much fun when we start recognizing His voice even better.” She agrees.
This is messy; this is far from profound, but it's a start. This is for eternity. It's way more valuable than painting our nails. We’re in.

One fresh breath of which stirred my heart to beat
A lengthened strum to seek a rawer feat
And winds which rough against my hungry face
A touch of wilderness is worth the wait

Seasoned eyes which look Into the deep
See shadowed glances of a harbored fear
And words which understand a weakened hope
See into gazes overlaid with stone

Thick the night that muffles aching tears
Partnered with a sister's hurting cares
Shared within the warmth of one small cot
It seems a bit forgotten, does it not

If solace stirs our hopeful hearts to hear
A voice unlike the ones we daily bear
Journey to the room where we may find
A peace which humbles a swollen martyr mind


[Inspired by Chris Bathgate's "Serpentine"]

Alto Pass

Today we found Mrs. Froggy's shut down
The soil over Mr. Jeremiah already settled down
The breath is leaving this little town
And Has been ever since the railroad was torn out

The root beer saloon's light's still on
With the same lost woman who cursed our youth
New age fetishes that line the booths
Most the tourists have come and gone

There sits Grandma Weissman's store
As a child i played on her shag-carpet floor
And ate Nanna's cheesecake--we always wanted more
I don't know where all the time goes

"Your Love"

Gapped heart as wide as the horizon
Glasses on, quicken the blackness of dusk
Said goodbye to dear friends
And the sky's been crying as we travel today
Hide away to feel safe
Hunger is a pain, just like heartache
Feel the silence drowning out all noise
Carry on; on and on
No plan near
Still we run
Ever steady
On and on

Yesterday's manna rotten in my mouth
I did not gather new today
Been fighting against you all day
Beating the air
Cowering in wasted love
Broken

Daddy
"Your love tears me up
When it's done puts me together.
Your love calls me out of my doubt and my failure"

Limp in your arms
Sunglasses on
Hair up
I mouth the words I haven't the strength to voice

"your love tears me up
When it's done puts me together.
Your love calls me out of my doubt and my failure"

Im afraid I'll lose myself if I give myself to You
But it's a battle worth losing
I know it's true



[Quotations taken from Shane and Shane's "Your Love"]

steady, now

One last stop that I can foresee
the months ahead lay shrouded in thickest cover
awaiting living breath to raise them from their unborn slumber
I’ve never been one without a plan
I find that I am without one, now
but I am fully here
My thoughts were always elsewhere
flitting towards the next moment
the present fleeting and forgotten
the past a gray haze
now, the days are full and real
slow, but alive
tangible
filled with whisperings of Fatherly assurance
I am here
I am finally here
How thankful I am for this purposed stall
my slate is clean, and You hold my heart
I knew how to run
now You’re teaching me to walk
what a gloriously simple endeavor
May I never forget the beauty in waiting

Freedom in the face of imperfection

This was a day that beckoned freedom
cool came to relieve us from the sun
but even so I disqualified myself
from hearing the voice of Love


lightening trembled in the deep
and clouds curled in the sky like smoke
and we laid our thoughts down
and let them slide into the gabled roof


our eyes were crafted to behold beauty
I thought I’d find it in perfection
and despised myself for all my flaws
that withheld me from what I craved to be


but we were who we were made to be
and it’s truer now to me
that our lots of imperfection
are our portions of humility


and beauty is not what they thought


it is not bound as some seek to bind it
it is not predetermined by how other eyes perceive it
it is stitched into our hearts
for we bear the God-man’s image


may we see each other in light of Christ’s perspective
and behold the magnificent kisses of our King
that are the marks of beauty
on every created heart


I am finding freedom
in not needing to be God
we are who we were made to be
and that’s a freeing place to be

pressing towards hope

She’ll calls me today
little sister
And ask if anything’s new
Just like she always does
And I find comfort in knowing
That she cares
what I’m up to

I think it’d be humble
to throw away everything
into the can He’s holding for trash
And his eyes would be burning
Too pure to look on evil
Blue as the sea—many times through
And I’d beg to cast away my
Very self
Just for a moment to dwell on
His name

In my core
I know those things are harder
done than said
and it’s painful
to follow through

And listening and words
Have become more profound
Than they ever have
And I am much smaller
Than I had first perceived

pride still chokes me

and I hurt
I need You just as much as ever
some days I don’t let on
but I’m crying in my heart
“Don’t give me a stone.
Daddy, please don’t give me a stone.”

peace reigns
it rings shrill and clear
I’m wandering
but my soul You still

and I press on

I need to find You
I need to know You
more than I’ve ever known before
I need to penetrate
the depths of Your Spirit
and probe the mysteries of Your heart

If I don’t, I will rot
rot out
rot straight through

I must know
I must have hope
I must know You

meditation. day two

One quest
and two quiet mornings
the morning’s late
but my soul is still
the house is quiet
and most rooms are vacant
except for the peace
of one sleeping still
peace comes thick
though my soul is vacant
quiet me down
beneath the heat of the sun
late have I listened
on a quest to know You richly
rich is the time
that is spent with You
my plan is spent
but your eyes burn vivid
the heat of Your compassion
knocks me to the ground
I seek Your face
in my imagination
and dust out fear
that my soul will reign

royalty

I know two kings who married twin queens
And I sat in their presence—in their very presence
Wise as wisdom grows with age
And they love me richly, they do
I’m pained to live so far away
What I’d give for a set of days
To sit in their kitchens
Sit in their kitchen as one king makes pies
Fashioned with skill—as one learned in the art
What I’d give for a set of days
To sit in their kitchens
Sit in their kitchen as the other couple plays
Gospel songs from golden days
Days that passed many years ago
If you say we bless you, the blessing’s all mine
Just to listen to your voices
Is like sugar for my heart
And these sweet queens
And gentle kings
Give me hugs and loving kisses
And bake me cookies
And say I’m growing up to be a sweet young lady
And I can’t believe a queen would say
Such words, such blessings to me
And I’m pained to live so far away
For I’d give anything for a set of days
To watch them in the ways they love
And walk with seasoned poise
I know two kings who married twin queens
Grandpa, Grandma, great aunt and uncle
They’re royalty,
To me

an answer

The Lord is faithful. I believe I've finally received clarity on which line of study I should pursue in college. Thank you, Jill, for solidifying that today :)
As many of you know, I'd tossed around three different areas of study (nursing, counseling, and journalism) but I’m finally recognizing what I've been drawn to the most, for quite a long time--counseling. I know that the Lord has asked me to go to Africa, and I may have a chance to go with my dad and a small group of doctors in the spring. I would really love to go into specific countries some day with professional training; I keep hearing people say (when talking about their various callings in Africa or with human trafficking victims) that what they need now are professional counselors. Every time I hear that, I want to be the one who goes.
Specifically, I am most drawn to victims of sexual abuse, abuse, mental illness, eating disorders, and human trafficking. I think I would get really burnt out if I held private practice, but my dream would be to go with a team of doctors into countries that need medical, spiritual, and psychological help. I also really desire to be a foster parent or adopt a child or two who have had a history of abuse, which would utilize the training I receive in counseling.
I am so looking forward to pursuing this degree and excited for what the Lord has in store! I would love prayer that the Lord would continue to guide and direct my path and that His will would be done. Thank you all!

sisters

We spend the later hours, most
Closer than a cousin close
Past our child, hurtful woes
The future’s colored “rose”

On the clock
Or in the shop
Our hearts laid on a table top
Complete with tea
And sugar packs
We’ll talk an hour dead

My hair of ash
And yours of red
Opposite as two can get
Yet through and through
Time has proved
We share two sister hearts

weak

Desire eludes me
each path is tiring
each road the same direction--on
my soul is dormant
sick of the same
the adventure's gone

When You wake me, I'll come home
these wanderings are a memory; I know
just short of 18 years, this road
but it feels I've wandered long
been a stranger all this life, I know
been waiting to see Your face, so long

restore my hope
restore my song

"...do not throw away your confidence;
it will be richly rewarded.
You need to persevere
so that when you have done the will of God,
you will receive what he has promised."

Hebrews 10:35-36