Not Exactly Empirical Proof... But It Resonates Just the Same

For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, because that which is known about God is evident within them; for God made it evident to them. For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse. For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man and of birds and four-footed animals and crawling creatures.

Romans 1:18-23

For they exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever. Amen.
Romans 1:25

Currently Very Out of Shape... and Under Fire, I Hope

A shapeless piece of steel, that's all I claim to be
This hammer pounds to give me form, this flame, it melts my dreams
I glow with fire and fury, as I'm twisted like a vine
My final shape, my final form I'm sure I'm bound to find

So dream a little, dream for me in hopes that I'll remain
And cry a little, cry for me so I can bear the flames
And hurt a little, hurt for me my future is untold
But my dreams are not the issue here, for thee, the hammer holds

And the water, it cools me gray, and the hurt's subdued somehow
I have my shape, this sharpened point, what is my purpose now?
And the question still remains, what am I to be?
Perhaps some perfect piece of art displayed for all to see

So dream a little, dream for me in hopes that I'll remain
And cry a little, cry for me so I can bear the flames
And hurt a little, hurt for me my future is untold
But my dreams are not the issue here, for thee, the hammer holds

The hammer pounds again, but flames I do not feel
This force that drives me, helplessly, through flesh, and wood reveals
A burn that burns much deeper, it's more than I can stand
The reason for my life was to take the life of a guiltless man

So dream a little, dream for me in hopes that I'll remain
And cry a little, cry for me so I can bear the pain
And hurt a little, hurt for me, my future is so bold

But my dreams are not the issue here, for thee, the hammer holds

This task before me may seem unclear
But it, my maker holds

"The Hammer Holds" by Bebo Norman

This is searing through me right now... I hope to be able to follow with my thoughts soon.

A Christmas Song to Pray All Year

Tears are falling, hearts are breaking
How we need to hear from God
You've been promised, we've been waiting

Welcome Holy Child
Welcome Holy Child

Hope that you don't mind our manger
How I wish we would have known
But long-awaited Holy Stranger
Make Yourself at home
Please make Yourself at home
Bring Your peace into our violence
Bid our hungry souls be filled
Word now breaking Heaven's silence

Welcome to our world
Welcome to our world

Fragile finger sent to heal us
Tender brow prepared for thorn
Tiny heart whose blood will save us
Unto us is born
Unto us is born
So wrap our injured flesh around You
Breathe our air and walk our sod
Rob our sin and make us holy

Perfect Son of God
Perfect Son of God
Welcome to our world

"Welcome to Our World" by Chris Rice

Let it go...

Let it go...

That was the message, the challenge of the youth musical this morning. It's such a simple little message. "Let go and let God" has been a popular and oft quoted little sentence in my life already, and I have known for a long time that the concept of surrender is one of my greatest struggles.

Someone I love, admire, and respect once made a demonstration of surrender for a group of people, believers and not, by simply holding her hands in fists and opening them to let go of the things she's been holding onto too tightly. I have often thought about that simple action and have participated in the symbolism of it many times since, singing in worship, making fists as tight as I can make them until they hurt and then opening up my fingers, turning my palms downward and then upward to let go of what I'm holding, to make room for what I desperately need to receive.

Let it go...

As soon as I entered the sanctuary and was reminded of this morning's theme, I was eager to hear the message, one I need every morning, every day. Let it go... Truly open up your hands and let it go...

At the end of the service, as I went to the front of the room to write down what I was letting go, my testimony on a piece of cardboard, I shook taking the the cap off the marker and wrote furiously, quickly, in the the crooked scrawl handwriting I resort to in a rush, a short list of all I need to let go:

my perfectionism

my bitterness

my lack of trust in Your perfection and restoration

my delusion of control.

I shook recapping the marker and rereading what I had written, and while everyone else who participated lay their small pieces of cardboard surrender at the foot of the cross, I tacked mine into the cork board cross purposefully and firmly into the square of cork board labeled in bold marker MY PRIDE. Lord, crucify it.

I returned to my seat without hesitating at the cross, closed my eyes when I sat down, and felt myself shake inside, a familiar tremble that I have felt all too often lately-- the tremble of crying, the kind of crying that empties you and gives you hiccups later as a reminder of how wracked your breathing and your heart have been. But this time I wasn't crying quite so hard; there were only a few tears in my eyes. I wasn't crying, but the shaking, the tremor was alive inside.

As the service drew to a close, I thought about my recent bout of emotion and of the many forays into dramatics I have made in the past weeks and of the times in my life I can remember feeling so strongly and so deeply. I am often skeptical of such strong emotional experiences-- what do they really mean if they later fade? what if they are merely a response to the stimulation of a simulated appeal, a carefully crafted combination of lights, music, lyrics, and symbols? what if they're an elaborate creation of my own to trick myself into feeling important, an attempt to convince myself that life is not in vain? what if they're empty? what if they're really blind and conceited and selfish, an obsession with myself? what if they're just feelings? what if they're not really related to God at all?

I can be so skeptical, but why? After all, I love the dramatic, the intense, the passionate, and the symbolic. I'm an English major, after all. I marvel at strength and beauty of a well delivered Shakespearean soliloquy, I sit breathless before the stage of a moving ballet, I wander through art galleries weaving stories in my head to match the paintings, and I weep with Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca. I love the artistic and the dramatic, the sweeping and the moving and the emotional. Why should I admire these things when made by humans and feel skeptical of them when they're in my own heart?

Because I don't want to imagine I know God when I don't, that's why. I am okay overdramatizing almost everything, but I don't want to create a delusion of God inside me. I fear of blaspheming by presuming to know Him or His will, fear of mistaking a hormonal imbalance for an experience with God, fear of daydreaming my own will into handwriting on the wall, fear of creating my own little friendly puppet wishing well God and convincing myself that what is really an elaborate creation of my imagination is really God.

I am scared of surrendering because I don't trust myself to surrender it to a real God. I fear of missing God in a haze, fear of creating a fake spirituality that is not Him.

Why? What have I to gain in that? I'm holding everything back, looking for something I'm not finding, hoping that a new experience, a new book,  a new song, a new friend, a new church would make the difference... but nothing ever truly does, not all the way, not to the depth of my need, not to the heart of my sin... not enough to eradicate my perfectionism, my bitterness, my lack of trust in Your perfection and restoration, my delusion of control...

The problem now is not that I don't believe in You. The problem now is not that I don't feel my need of You. The problem now is that I don't trust myself to turn to You and not to an imitation, that I don't trust myself not to succumb to idolatry. But that again is my lack of surrender and my delusion that I am in control. I have to let go of that, let it go to You. Trust in You to restore me... to answer the prayer that was once my weekly petition-- to renew me, guide me, and lead me so that I may delight in Your will and walk in Your ways to the glory of Your holy name.

God, I still don't know that I know who You are. I don't trust myself that much. I don't know how to give up all of my distrust and unbelief and delusion because I don't entirely know how to find You, how to get to You, how truly to trust You to restore.  Lord, I'm tired of splitting hairs trying to narrow down exactly what You is the real You, I'm tired of looking at everything under a microscope and still not believing my own eyes. Please take all this that is me, all this brokenness, all this delusion, confusion, bitterness, and sin, and please fill me with what really is You. Take me over. I don't want me because I am wrong. Help me, Lord, let it go... help me know to whom I am relinquishing control, help me know You.

Tired of Me, Longing for You

I'm tired of the sound of my own voice 
And I'm weary of adding to the noise 
And I'm fearful of missing the point of it all 

I remember the way it used to be 
The way this love felt like the first day of spring 
And I want this back more than anything in the world 

It's as cold as winter in my veins 
And I long to feel the summer rain 
Can you take me back to where it all began? 

Jesus I come, come to you again 
Just like it was the first time 
I came to you for new life 
I need you now, as much as I did then 
I need a new beginning 
So Jesus I am coming 
For the first time again 

I'm jaded from all that I have seen 
I'm bitter, but I don't want to be 
I'm believing, can you help my unbelief? 

Sometimes I think I know too much 
But even then it's not enough 
Can you take me back so I can move ahead? 

Take me deep inside the grace that forgets 
Instead of down the well worn path of my regrets 
I'm older than I've ever been 
Can you take me back and make me new again? 

Cause I need you now, as much as I did then... 


"For the First Time Again" by Jason Gray

Greater Things

You're the Light in this darkness
You're the Hope to the hopeless
You're the Peace to the restless
You are
There is no one like our God
There is no one like our God
For greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this City
Greater thing have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done here
-- "God of this City" by Chris Tomlin


For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the anxious longing of the creation waits eagerly for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now. And not only this, but also we ourselves, having the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting eagerly our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body. For in hope we have been saved, but hope that is seen is not hope; for who hopes for what he already sees?  
-- Romans 8:18-24


Vanity of vanities! All is vanity... But beyond this, my son, be warned: the writing of many books is endless, and excessive devotion to books is wearying to the body. The conclusion, when all has been heard, is: fear God and keep His commandments, because this applies to every person. For God will bring every act to judgment, everything which is hidden, whether it is good or evil.
-- Ecclesiastes, my condensed version


The world is not right. So is my bitter complaint, day in and day out. The world is not right. No one I know is right. Nothing of which I am a part is right. I am not right. This is the heart of the matter, and this is my confession: I am not right. I am given over to futility, a piece in an all that is vanity. But here is also the truth of the matter and here is the hope: greater things are and greater things are yet to come. Light in the darkness. Hope to the hopeless. Peace to the restless. Redemption. Creation complete and whole and redeemed, all as it was created to be.

Meditating on Psalm 51

Psalm 51 "A Psalm of David, when Nathan the prophet came to him, after he had gone in to Bathsheba"

Be gracious to me, O God, according to Your lovingkindness;

According to the greatness of Your compassion blot out my transgressions.

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity

And cleanse me from my sin.

For I know my transgressions, 

And my sin is ever before me.

Against You, You only, I have sinned

And done what is evil in Your sight,

So that You are justified when You speak

And blameless when You judge.

Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity,

And in sin my mother conceived me.

Behold, You desire truth in the innermost being,

And in the hidden part You will make me know wisdom.

Purify me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;

Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

Make me to hear joy and gladness,

Let the bones which You have broken rejoice.

Hide Your face from my sins

And blot out all my iniquities.

Create me in a clean heart, O God,

And renew a steadfast spirit within me

Do not cast me away from Your presence

And do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of Your salvation

And sustain me with a willing spirit.

Then I will teach transgressors Your ways,

And sinners will be converted to You.

Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, the God of my salvation;

Then my tongue will joyfully sing of Your righteousness.

O Lord, open my lips, that my mouth may declare Your praise.

For You do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it;

You are not pleased with burnt offering.

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;

A broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.

By Your favor do good to Zion;

Build the walls of Jerusalem.

Then You will delight in righteous sacrifices,

In burnt offering and whole burnt offering;

Then young bulls will be offered on Your altar.

"Restore to Me"

Mac Powell and Candi Pearson-Shelton

Hide your face from my sins 

and cover my iniquities 

Create in me a clean heart

and renew a right spirit within me 

Don't cast me away from Your presence 

or take Your spirit from me

Restore to me the joy of your salvation 

Restore to me the wonders of your love

Restore to me the joy of Your salvation

Restore to me, restore to me

Deliver me from this hour of darkness

Through the pain and brokenness

And I will sing of Your loving kindness

And of Your righteousness

Prayer of Confession Lutheran Book of Worship

Most merciful God, we confess that we are captive to sin

and cannot free ourselves.

We have sinned against You in thought, word, and deed,

by what we have done and by what we have left undone.

We have not loved You with our whole heart;

we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.

For the sake of Your Son, Jesus Christ,

have mercy on us.

Forgive us, renew us, and lead us,

so that we may delight in Your will

and walk in Your ways,

to the glory of Your holy name.

Amen.

from the LBW liturgy of my childhood/Psalm 51

Create in me a clean heart, O God,

and renew a right spirit within me.

Cast me not away from Your presence

and take not Your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of Your salvation

and uphold me with a willing spirit.

"God Be Merciful to Me (Psalm 51)"

Jars of Clay

God be merciful to me on Thy grace, I rest my plea
Plenteous in compassion Thou
Blot out my transgressions now

Wash me, make me pure within
Cleanse, oh, cleanse me from my sin

My transgressions I confess
Grief and guilt my soul oppress
I have sinned against Thy grace
And provoked Thee to Thy face

I confess Thy judgment just
Speechless, I, Thy mercy trust

I am evil born in sin
Thou desirest truth within
Thou alone my Savior art
Teach Thy wisdom to my heart

Make me pure, Thy grace bestow
Wash me whiter than the snow

Gracious God, my heart renew
Make my spirit right and true
Thy salvation's joy impart
Steadfast make my willing heart
Steadfast make my willing heart

Broken, humbled to the dust
By Thy wrath and judgment just
Let my contrite heart rejoice
And in gladness hear Thy voice

From my sins, oh, hide Thy face
Blot them out in boundless grace

Captivate Us

Just a Genius recommendation on my iTunes this morning from the band Watermark... it caught my attention, and it is an appropriate prayer for me this morning.


Your face is beautiful
And Your eyes are like the stars
Your gentle hands have healing
There inside the scars
Your loving arms they draw me near
And Your smile it brings me peace
Draw me closer oh my Lord
Draw me closer Lord to Thee

(chorus)
Captivate us, Lord Jesus
Set our eyes on You
Devastate us with Your presence
Falling down
And rushing river, draw us nearer
Holy fountain consume us with You
Captivate us Lord Jesus, with You

Your voice is powerful
And Your words are radiant bright
In Your breath and shadow
I will come close and abide
You whisper love and life divine
And Your fellowship is free
Draw me closer O my Lord
Draw me closer Lord to Thee

(chorus)

Let everything be lost in the shadows
Of the light of Your face
Let every chain be broken from me
As I’m bound in Your grace
For Your yoke is easy, Your burden is light
You’re full of wisdom, power and might
And every eye will see You

Awake

What a feeling.

To wake up and not be tired. To feel my eyes be completely open while I'm still lying in bed. No shower or coffee to trick me into being awake. I'm really awake.

Rested, comfortable, breathing in the smells of detergent and fabric softener in freshly cleaned sheets and looking around at sunlight streaming in through cracks in the blinds, smiling because the sunlight does not illuminate a layer of dust or a pile of clothes on my dresser this morning but instead shines on the wood finish and a picture frame with our favorite wedding snapshot.

Why do I deprive myself of this? What do I think I am accomplishing living life in a frenzy?

Can I truly commit to a life lived in the slow lane...  Can slow and steady win the race?

When we read the fable of the tortoise and the hare in class this year, the stated moral was "plodding wins the race." It's tough for me to see myself as a plodder, especially as I just looked up the definition to find that plodding, according to the dictionary widget on my computer, when referring to a person, means "thorough and hardworking but lacking in imagination or intelligence."

That's hilarious to me right now. I'm picturing myself as an old wrinkled tortoise plodding along, working like a drone, devoid of two qualities I most want to be part of me-- imagination and intelligence.

But here's the thing.... the life I'm living right now is what stands to make me a drone. Running like I am, almost with blinders on, so single-mindedly rushing toward one set of goals-- that's what will strip me of imagination and intelligence.

There's something to be said for being single-minded in purpose, but there's no merit in forcing forward long after the purpose has dissolved from the stress of the rushing. 

Many times in my life I have been driving with only a vague idea of where I'm going. I know my intended destination-- my purpose-- but I only half know how to get there. Or, many times, I have known exactly how to get there by one route but have an idea about what might be a shortcut and take my chances taking it... in those times I drive with stress, talking to myself aloud in the car, "Is it this exit? I don't know. This doesn't look right. Great job, Nat. Shoot, where should I turn around?" I take the same road a couple different times in different directions; I backtrack. I take shortcuts that extend my trip minutes and hours. Sometimes I call someone to ask for help, but usually I'm too embarrassed or stubborn for that too and keep racing from street to street trying to find my way to where I'm going. Usually, I end up having to go back to a street I know and start again, take the long way I should have taken in the first place.

That's my life now-- knowing what I want and toppling head first into trying to get there without having a firm hold on my directions, busying myself with supposed shortcuts and side streets until all I am is lost and confused.

I just want a slow drive. Instead of trying to squeeze my time for every moment of possible productivity and leaving so late I have to speed to my destination, I want to leave with time to spare and relax on the ride. I want to know where I'm going or maybe even have enough time to get lost and meander a bit on the way, learning from my explorations as I do. I want my life to be the beautiful backroads where I first learned to drive-- winding through mountains and creeks, trees and hills dotted with flowers and grazing livestock. Sunshine is a different color out there somehow. The way I see the world is colored with it. Fresh. Warm. Majestic. And simple at the same time. Nothing has to be so complicated. I have faith in where I am and where I'm going and why. I know that I am a piece of something bigger, and I, cliche as it drives me crazy that this is, I see God where I am. What can these mountains be without Him? How can I have something inside me that adores and feels happiness and peace without Him? He must exist for such glories and for such feelings of experiencing glory to exist.

Plodding. Plodding. It's the slow moments that make imagination and sharpening of intelligence possible, not the other way around. 

I was a girl of imagination, of stories, of words. I want to be a woman of that too.

So I'm going to stop living life in a rush.

And it's funny... I have this feeling that I'll probably get more done that way, with my intelligence, my imagination, my faith, and my love of life intact.

Clock. Composed in Ten Minutes.

Ten 'til ten in the penultimate month of two-thousand-ten.

1987.

How did I get from 1987 to here? 

I am twenty-three years old. My parents are younger than many of the people who share my job and my mission. I am twenty-three... less than double the age of the students I struggle so to reach.

I am still a child, aren't I? Isn't there still plenty of time?

No. Because it is now only seven 'til ten in the first week of November and my students don't know that this sentence is a fragment and that it's okay anyway if I want it to be. Because my students have learned you can't start a sentence with because because of sentence fragments like this one when really you can. Because the subordinate clause of this sentence precedes an independent clause, this sentence beginning with because is complex and correct.

But why do I care that my students don't know that again? And why does it matter that I do? 

Here's a subordinate clause for me-- "Unless the Lord builds the house."

And here's the independent clause it has to have to be complete that sends shivers through my soul-- "the builders build in vain."

In vain.

In vain...

What a heart-wrenching little prepositional phrase.

What if it's all in vain? It certainly feels in vain.

God, where is Your glory in this? Lord, where are you in a world where children's lives are in my hands? What a sin that I think they're in my hands... they aren't.... they're in Yours. Lord, why can't I remember that? Because it doesn't feel like it... there was that fragment again. Fragment. Like my thinking. Fragments. Like my ideals. Fragments. Like my dreams and heart and soul and spirit. Fragments.

I have fragments of time, fragments of focus, fragments of answers.

Lord, I have to believe somewhere there is Whole and Complete, and it has to be You.

Ten o'clock on a November night in 2010. And I'm writing in fragments... looking for what can make me whole....

Racing and Striving... Why?

Unless the LORD builds the house, 
   the builders labor in vain. 
Unless the LORD watches over the city, 
   the guards stand watch in vain. 
In vain you rise early 
   and stay up late, 
toiling for food to eat— 
   for he grants sleep to those he loves.


--Psalm 127:1-2

Rushing and racing, and running in circles,

Moving so fast, I'm forgetting my purpose...

Sometimes I fear that I might disappear

In the blur of fast-forward, I falter again

Forgetting to breathe, I need to sleep, I'm getting nowhere...

--Emmy Rossom "Slow Me Down"

Cease striving, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among nations, I will be exalted in the earth.


--Psalm 46:10

The Real Me?

"Who am I?" I challenged my students to ask themselves earlier this year. 


Well, who am I?


Where do I put my identity?


My husband fears it is too wrapped up in him and that's why I'm so broken while he's gone... I'm sure there's a lot of truth to that... and a lot of that comes from my lifelong identity issue...


I've always put too much emphasis on being good, whatever might be my (or everyone else's) definition of good at the time. 


I've gone through so many phases of identity-- the dork, the dreamer, the smart kid, the writer, the valedictorian, the small town princess,  the semi-Vandy Vandy girl, the Nashville suburb plebeian,the single girl, the girlfriend, the fiance, the wife, the wife with a husband on the road, the student, the student, the student teacher, the teacher... the teacher... the teacher?


Doesn't one have to know to teach?


Degree? Check. Highly qualified? Check. Ideals and hopes? Check.


Actual know-how... well I don't even know exactly what I'm supposed to know how to do.


Who am I?


And who should I be?

Revisiting My Fave Jaci Velasquez song

People think I've got it all together
With the show and my sweet, sweet smile
But do they know if I've been happy ever
Pull up a chair 'cause this may take a while
O.K. so here's the thing

I've got my bad days, and some are even worse
I can be a blessing and you know, I can be a curse
I tremble at rejection, I'm scared to be alone
Sometimes I may be selfish, but I always make it home

This is the real me
Am I the girl that you want me to be
This is the real me
With flaws and fears of intimacy
This is the real me
Can you face it
Can you feel it
Can you take it
Can you deal with
The real me

So now you see that I am far from perfect
I will fall and I will make mistakes (oh, no)
But I am here and this has taken courage
Will you abandon me or will you stay
(Please stay with me)

I know that I'm demanding and sometimes insecure
I think I've got the answers, but then I'm not so sure
I sometimes need attention a little more than I should
But there is a part of me that would give the whole world if I could

This is the real me
Am I the girl that you want me to be
This is the real me
With flaws and fears of intimacy
This is the real me
Can you face it
Can you feel it
Can you take it
Can you deal with
The real me

Now I've gone and let you in
And I no longer will pretend
Will you please still be my friend
Will you please still be my friend
Do you see me now

This is the real me
Am I the girl that you want me to be
This is the real me
Real me

This is the real me
Am I the girl that you want me to be
This is the real me
With flaws and fears of intimacy
This is the real me
Can you face it
Can you feel it
Can you take it
Can you deal with
The real me

This is the real me
Oh, here I am now
This is the real me
With all my flaws and fears
This is the real me
Can you face it
Can you feel it
Can you take it
Can you deal with
The real me