Well, I just spent the last three hours updating the look of my blog. All I have to say is I HATE coding. I've decided its much better left to those who actually know what they're doing.

I should've spent the last three hours packing, or sleeping, or something. But when I couldn't conquer that stupid blogging code in one fell swoop I got a little enraged... a little obsessive... a little driven... and now here we are at 11:34 and I conquered! I take after my dad in this. He is completely self-taught on Microsoft Excel, by spending hours and hours in his office at the restaurant night after night doing the books. He figured out the coolest things simply because he had to. And I have the benefit of Google at my fingertips!
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This weekend holds two big things: a move to a new townhouse and my 27th birthday.  A few things people should know about me?

1) I HATE new things. New things scare me. Like new houses for example. Going off to college? I tried three times... and ended up staying in my home town for school. Which was wonderful, but when push came to shove I just couldn't quite jump to "newness". I drive the same route to work every day. I get homesick on every trip I ever take (except for the one to Nigeria in 2008). I hate making new friends, even when its good for me.  God is seriously kicking me out of the nest the last two years with all the new stuff He's placing in my life. New trips, new friends, new job, new positions, new lessons, and now a new house. When will it end?! (Probably won't. :) Isn't that just like the Lord?)

2) Birthdays are a huge deal to me. Huge. Sometimes it may not seem like it to the people I love, because I don't always communicate that they are a big deal through my actions (I'm going to pray for improvement in this area), but I think the celebration of a person is a really big deal. Sarah is a wonderful birthday-haver, because she ALWAYS tells me what she wants when I ask. I love that because I can be specific and give her what she wants, which makes her happy, which makes me happy!

I remember one year my birthday fell on Super Bowl Sunday (like it does this year) and Haley inadvertently chose football over me, not realizing how big of a deal it was for me to have her over that day. I was

uhhh-pset.

A complete over reaction of course, and I still feel bad about it! But since that year Haley has never once forgotten my birthday. :)

Because of that when she and I talked birthday plans it took some convicining to make her believe that I am totally okay with no birthday plans this year. With the move and all the other things that have been going on, I'll be thankful just to SLEEP on my birthday. :) Watch a little football, eat a little cheescake or something, play with the dog, unpack a myriad of boxes, and sleep.

I wonder what this 27th year and all its newness will bring?!

"... humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land." (2 Chronicles 7:14)

This week my church is doing something pretty radical. We are participating in a corporate fast for a week, from Sunday to Saturday, meeting together morning, afternoon and in the evening for prayer. We did this last year as well but there is something about this year that seems oh-so-driven. Maybe its because its a more familiar lay out and doesn't seem quite as foreign as it did last year, but whatever the case, its pretty radical.

I haven't been to as many prayer meetings and gatherings as I could've been or I did last year, but when the ones that I have been at have really touched me. Especially last night, as we worshiped together.

Strangely enough the thing that crossed my mind as I was worshiping with song last night was of the early church. The reason that sounds strange is because the early church would never have experienced anything like the loud-band, large-church-designated-building, the 21st-century-style. So I couldn't figure out why I thought of the early church. Maybe I could've explained it by having my brain full of historical knowledge as I prep for the class I'm teaching in spring

But I immediately realized that the reason I was equating the two things was because I can imagine that the way the early church experienced the Spirit and worshiped God MUST'VE been similiar in terms of power, commitment and joy. The modern church doesn't talk about or practice fasting like its described in the Scripture. Maybe we like to think we're too enlightened or too smart to do something as archaic as imaging God would listen to our prayers as we deprive ourselves of things that we normally partake of.

I even fall into that trap VERY often.

However, no one could deny the Spirit of God moving through this week. Whether He simply uses the denial of the flesh to refocus our hearts and there is no real power in the fasting, or if there is something genuinely intrinsic to fasting that only rests in the spiritual realm... I don't know. But I know God is moving.

A quote that was on my mind tonight were again A.W. Tozer's famous words "To have found God and still to pursue Him is the soul's paradox of love." (Pursuit of God)

I haven't written in a while, but here I am tonight eating a brownie (I've scaled back to one single brownie tonight because in the last few days I've eaten my own weight in brownies, so it seems), watching MythBusters, catching up on computer things, and thinking about a movie I watched last night.

I saw The Book of Eli, on the recommendation of a co-worker. It looked a little sepia, a little"post apocalyptic", and a little yucky for my taste, but my co-worker knows me well and she thought I would like it. I like action movies, quite a bit actually, but something about the quietness and horrific thought of a post-nuclear world really hit me out of this movie unlike any other disaster or action movie I've ever seen.

The movie made me angry, made me sad, made me depressed and horrified, but what it made me feel the most was GRATEFUL!

I don't want to give away the movie, so don't read further if you don't want to know the end...






but I almost cried when the man, Eli, reached his end goal and notified his rescuers that he had a Bible to add to their collection. He'd been carrying it thirty years, the only one left in the world.

But when they asked him if they could see it he instead sat down and began to repeat word for word the entirety of Scripture from Genesis 1:1. The Bible was in his head. He'd read it so many times over thirty years that he knew it word for word. He knew God protected him in his pursuit to bring the Word back to people. And though he died in his quest, the most heartening scene of the movie was when a restored printing press began to shuffle page on page of Scripture. I wonder if that's how those in the past felt when the Word of God was put into written form that others could read.... the awe, the wonder, the responsibility, the hope.

Eli gave his life in the mission to preserve the ONLY remaining physical word of God left in a tortured world. One man sought to destroy him to gain the words, thinking that the possession of the Book would give him power. He didn't realize that the power came not from words on a page, but from the belief and faith, the life and truth they brought.

I left the theater nearly in tears and swearing in my heart that I would never consider the Word of God so cavalierly again in my life. I carry it around with me every day, just one more "accessory" in my suitcase-sized-purse.

Yet, what if it were taken from me?! What if there was no hard copy of God's word existed? What if it were against the law for me to have one in my possession, as it is so many places in the world?!

So, I have made a goal. I would like to memorize the book of Matthew by the end of the year. I'll keep track of this goal here. My hope would be that I could eventually memorize much more than just Matthew, but I know myself and must start with a REACHABLE goal. :)

I would appreciate prayer in this area... it is very hard for me to memorize anything. It always has been.

But that movie was a graphic visual to me of the vast importance of God's precious word, and a reminder that I may not always have the luxury of whipping my Bible out of my purse. Additionally, what better way to "guard your heart", "the wellspring of life", than to hide God's word in my heart?

Famous preacher and missionary George Whitefield (before he was famous) went from a life at Oxford full of books and reason and high theology and took the parish of a poor and illiterate group of people. This position shaped him in many ways, and it was said of him by his friend John Gillies that he "soon learnt to love the people among whom he labored, and derived from their society a greater improvement than books could have given him." (Memoirs of Rev. George Whitefield, John Gillies, pg. 21).

Something he loved and was deeply passionate about? Oxford, education and books.

Something God called him to? Shepherding the low class.

I may not be anything like George Whitefield. For one, he was Anglican, and for another, he was a man, and to top it all off, he had a loud, loud voice.

One thing I do have in common with George Whitefield is the feeling I'm going to end up doing something ENTIRELY outside the realm of what I thought I wanted to do.

Tonight I babysat. We did the dinner thing, made brownies for school tomorrow, had a glass-breaking-tears incident that involved a time-out and no barefeet in the kitchen. We played a game, cleaned up our messes and generally had a great time.

I love spending time with those kids, and while Little Boy was helping me rip the romaine lettuce into pieces (what kid doesn't love to rip things?), and Littler Girl was trying desperately to have enough strength to stir her brownie mix, I was thinking of something Brandon said to me the other day.

He pushes my buttons like almost no one else. All the ones I hate being pushed. My greatest dreams in life have been to be a missionary, to be involved, to be a part of great moves of God.

Brandon said he sees me being stay at home mom who prays for missionaries and sends them, not actually going myself.

I was really peeved at him for saying that! Its actually one of my greatest fears! I don't want to be left behind, I want to be in the fight just like the guys... it stung me even more since he never even wanted to set foot in Africa and I've wanted to go there my whole life as a missionary, but since he's a guy he can feasibly end up anywhere in the world and do anything he wants and doesn't have to be a stay at home mom who drives a van and picks her kids up from soccer. I love the other mom's who do that and I think they're incredible... I just never wanted that life.

Hmph.

I hate it when he could be right. Cause every minute I'm with the kiddos, with Little Boys charming little face staring up at me and wanting to be my helper, or the way the girls always want to have an adventure or do something fun or talk about their drawing, or school, or friends, I know in my heart I can't wait to be a mom. I feel like this with my god daughters too... there's nothing I wouldn't do to protect them, help them, fight for them. I love them with all my heart.

There was a day when chaos of the familial kind would send me into whirly-loops. Now there is a calm I feel in that situation that makes me feel... this is going to sound so lame... like I was born for it.

Born for tying shoes, helping brush teeth, picking up at school, dealing with tantrums, reading books, playing games, cooking pasta and getting up fifteen times for various drinks, utensils, plate refills, and stern warnings about finishing dinner.

I have a feeling that in my lifetime I may have to swallow that same pill George Whitefield swallowed and step into shoes that I always imagined wouldn't fit right.

But God caused George Whitefield to experience above and beyond what he could've EVER imagined his life to entail for the Lord. I'm counting on that for my life too, that God sees those parts of my heart that seem so completely parallel that they'd never cross and that somewhere in His eternity they DO cross and only He sees how. Adventure and greatness and ballet recitals and bedtime stories.

So, now I feel bad for being peeved at my brother, since he's almost always right about stuff anyway. Although I REFUSE to drive a minivan. That's where I draw the line.

Today I was a grouch. Not intentionally, of course. I just had a bad headache, so by the time 4:30 rolled around my temper was short.

Solution?

The library.

I arrived just before 6pm, entered the familiar elevator and promptly forgot to push the "up" button. So I stood for a moment, rocking back and forth on my heels... then realized the problem and up I went.

I love the library. It smells good and its quiet, and mostly, its full of books. I was there for three books in particular: Bruce Shelley's Church History in Plain Language, the Oxford Illustrated History of Christianity, and Susan Wise Bauers' The History of the Ancient World.

Thrilling reads, one might scoff. Well, I think they are anyway.

I had to laugh at myself when I was upstairs in the back right corner, squirreled away in the furthest shelves from the stairs (where for some reason they keep books on the ancient world and the American founding fathers-- I will never understand the library filing system.) The reason I laughed is because as I picked up my third book I then set it on the floor and immediately reached for another one-- The Histories written by Herodotus (the world's first legitimate written historian). There was another that caught my eye, and then another.

I steeled my inner will, put back Herodotus, picked up The History of the Ancient World and stood, fully intending to leave.

And as I walked down the stacks my roving eyes kept seeing titles flash out at me about Thomas Jefferson and Constantine and others... I realized in that moment I act in the library like most women act in a shoe store.

Books are my shoes.

Well, shoes are my shoes too... I love those as well.

But just as shoes or dresses catch the eye as one walks past windows or stores, books catch my eye.

Books on all sorts of things. Today I was on a mission for history books. But tomorrow it could be science fiction or fantasy, the next it could be Austen or Bronte. Maybe my History of Western Philosophy! I love books.


Still feeling quite disagreeable, but happy in my iron clad decision to only check out three books (which each weigh the same as a baby, it seems) I came home, promptly turned on "Say Yes to the Dress" on TLC, and read a chapter on Jerome, Clement and Origen, calming by the moment. Headache gone? Not so much, but that's okay.

On top of this evening full of books I stumbled on a British miniseries called "Lost in Austen". Premise? A modern British girl who is love with Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice finds herself somehow transported into the book's world and Elizabeth Bennett transported out into modern London in her place.

I think I might give my right arm to have that happen to me. If I wasn't so sure that God knows exactly what He is doing all the time I would've sworn that he put me in the wrong century.

However, the plus for me is that I have access to the kind of education, opportunities, and LIBRARIES that the Bennett girls would have never dreamed existed.

I will not lie, however. What girl in their right mind wouldn't want Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley or Mr. Knightley to show up declaring their love? Hmm! :)

I will be satisfied, however, in my three very large history books, some late night cereal (Honey Bunches of Oats is the current favorite), and some headache medicine. Perhaps tomorrow I will go back to the library to pick up the book I was just notified that came in for me.

Oh the life of a bibliophile!

It takes me about a second and a half to be jealous. Jealous of someone's success or achievements. Of someone's outfit, someone's confidence, someone's financial stability, someone's relationship, someone's anything.


I remember about 5 years ago I was GREEN with jealousy over something in Amanda's life that I didn't have... and she didn't WANT, which made it even worse. Looking back on my behavior during that time I just want to kick myself. I was spiteful and mean and overly harsh when I spoke to her. My heart was so lime-verbena-ivy-chartreuse colored that I could hardly see straight.


The hardest things over which I become jealous are when I've been passed over. I will work hard, fit a description to a T, become the first to do a thing, or have a passion for something, but when someone else more popular comes along and does, says, IS, the same thing THEY receive the attention, the accolades, the support.......... the love.


What is so missing in me that jealousy is so easily triggered?

Because its pretty obvious that our pet sins really are things that speak to something we lack. Whether its a lack of understand who God really is, a lack of real love, of truth, of forgiveness, of wholeness... My theology teacher used to put it in terms of an automobile covered in dents. The dents were a lack in the car, a hollowing out of what should be there, a lack of wholeness. Sanctification is God banging out the dents. :)

It doesn't come as a surprise to me that when I go to God with the question, "Why is jealousy my "go-to" sin?", that He would reveal that the reason, at least part of it, goes back to my quintessential lack... a lack of feeling loved and worth something. Everyone deals with something that seems to define them in their search for wholeness in God. My struggle is (and may always continue to be) a lack of feeling worth something, anything.

So when I feel like I do, say, create, or am something unique or special or maybe-just-this-once-great, that tender heart of mine that really doesn't believe its worth anything to begin with is vulnerable.

And because of The Fall, because I'm still habituated to thinking and feeling ways that are inconsistent with the truth of God, the instant that worth is questioned-- even if its just in my own mind!-- the defenses pop up and the Good Ol' Green Monster snaps up its head.

Would jealousy be an issue that any Christian would deal with if they felt true security in Christ? I think not. That is the root of this issue for me. My identity in Christ.

And that's what the Enemy loves to do. He sees where we're still broken, where we're vulnerable and he coats his barbs in the most magnetic-personalized-to-us kind of way so that the moment our brokenness comes to the forefront that arrow of sin isn't far behind.

I don't mean to say that sin isn't something we are responsible for. The Book of James discusses the nature of sin and how it is birthed. But what I think is so morbidly fascinating is that his tactics target the most deeply broken and desperate parts of us. His tactic is no-holds-barred and he fights dirty.

The probability of me remembering that the reason for my reaction is really a result of misunderstanding my identity in God the moment jealousy springs is not 100%. If I'm going to be honest, it is really probably not that high of a percentage at all... I'm still learning and growing, just like all believers are. Yet, if I can be aware of the Enemy's dirty tactics in combination with my own brokenness there might be a better chance of my catching the Green Giant before it overtakes me.

Because I know that tomorrow morning when I leave my house there will be endless bombardments of reasons to be jealous or wounded throughout my day. My only recourse is turning to the God who loves me and ask Him to be kind enough to show me NUMEROUS times a day that that is where my worth is found.

I haven't decided if discussing sin is cathartic or nerve-wracking, but I guess we'll find out! :)

The hazards of attending-- and then working for-- a Bible school that has a high emphasis on biblical theology and hermeneutics is that the instant a devotional, sermon, quote, paper or even a Facebook status flashes before my eyes I'm immediately in this frame of mind: "Well, what's the context of that passage/verse/book?"

That is not a bad hazard. In fact, I wouldn't have it any other way.


Come Away My Beloved was a beat up book I found in one of Hope's and my favorite old bookstores and is written in a style that takes on God's voice to his beloved. I found it in high school and it rocked my world.

For the first time in my life I saw words that weren't familiar and cannonical... they were fresh and seemed real, to breathe life into my soul that was so desperate for acceptance and love.

I carried it around at one high school summer camp and when I would eat alone at a table or feel left out or invisible I'd pull it out and read it.

When I got a gift certificate for Christmas I found a devotional journal with these daily excerpts from Come Away My Beloved and many other of Ms. Roberts' works and snatched it up immediately. It was the bottom of a wire bin at a Ross Dress for Less and I found it at the end of an hour and a half long search for the "perfect thing" to spend my gift card on. The student who gave me the card was exhausted and stunned that out of everything THAT was what I chose to pick. I was ecstatic.

A discipline that has always been very hard for me is getting in the Word daily, and not just in an academic way. I thought maybe the pages with pre-printed dates would be some motiviation, and it has been.

Strikingly enough, most of those devotional "thoughts" have been precisely what I needed to hear each evening or were convicting or encouraging.

However, the hazard of being such a stickler for CONTEXT in the Scripture has also led me to several evenings of sighing in frustration and being unable to gleen from the devotional any real encouragement because the verse attached to/inspiring the devotional is taken so out of context its absurd.

For instance, last night the editors of this devotion attached Numbers 32:23 ("But if you fail to do this, you will be sinning against the LORD; and you may be sure that your sin will find you out") to an excerpt about anxiety playing out in the health of our bodies and emotions... Both of these things are totally accurate... but they DON'T go together. The combination (and an added question at the bottom of the page) implied that all anxiety and sickness are a result of unconfessed sin.

Now, is it possible that anxiety and lack of health can be because of unconfessed sin? You bet! Look at David and some of his Psalms. But seriously, people, to say that "Your sin will find you out" in the form of sickness and ansiety every time is just absurd. Right? What makes me upset is two-fold: that some people out there would buy into ideas that are not contextually sound and have it affect their spiritual walk at an important and really base level, and two, that one of my favorite authors in high school might have actually been rather loose in her application of the Scripture in her encouraging thoughts of what God might say. That is rather disheartening, though I'm sure its just because I'm incredibly sentimental.

My thoughts tonight are, though, not to rail on this topic but instead to ask and ponder whether or not I am over-reacting to things which are removed from their real context. Can there be encouragement or hope found in things which aren't contextually sound?

I tend to think not, but I wonder sometimes if I get a big-bubble-Bible-head and think I know all of the answers.

I'd certainly appreciate feedback!