New Year's Resolutions and Memories

        This is the time of year when people are winding down after a long, hard 2011 and buckling up for the roller coaster ride 2012 will be. It is a time for people to reflect on the last 365 days and make a list of how they will try to make the next 365 days better. Resolutions are a great way for people to feel like they put some effort towards trying to be a better person, knowing that they will never stick to these plans for improvement.
        I rarely make a list of resolutions. If I did, they would be unattainable, impractical, unrealistic, or just plain obvious. I'm happy with who I am--what could I possibly change? I guess I could always try to be nicer to my sister. But why does that need to be a New Year's resolution?
        This year, instead of resolutions, I made a sort of a bucket list; or as my family calls it, "The Bucket List for a Basket Case" (Thanks, guys). Really, it's more of a "Things-to-do-before-I-leave-for-college-out-of-state List." It's a mix of nostalgia (going to places full of childhood memories) and going to places I had never heard of before I Googled my own city yesterday. It's got crazy, random, silly things to do (like playing flashlight tag with my friends late at night) and serious tasks (raise money for a charity). I'm also determined to make a scrapbook to document all of my adventures. So far, I have several pages finished--Homecoming, my church's Christmas Tea, having fun in the park with my friend... I'm excited for what other memories will be put inside the book.
        I think that is what makes the end of the year so special: the memories. The reminiscing. I'm not saying you can't reminisce any other time of the year, but there's something different about New Year's. It seems like everyone is looking back; the memories are nearly tangible. Even if 2011 was a tough year, it is good to look back and say Wow, I actually survived that. If the year was amazing, it gives a sense of hope that next year could be even better. Or, if your year was like mine and was up and down and all over the place and you're just plain exhausted, you can say I am so done with 2011 and am ready for a new beginning.
        If you could describe in one word how you feel about the upcoming year, what word would it be? Anxious? Excited? Worried? Ready? I would use the word hopeful. I can't think of any other word to describe my emotions. As rough as 2011 was, I have hope that 2012 will be better. Although I don't know God's precise plans for my life, I have hope knowing He has plans for me. I am hopeful for all the big events coming up this year: eighteenth birthday, high school graduation, moving away for college... But even more important than these "big events" are the small things that happen each and every day, the seemingly insignificant moments that turn out to be truly precious.
        One year ago, to the day, I decided to start this blog. I wasn't sure what would happen, what I would write about, or if people would actually read it. It was finally in June (specifically, my post on Red Rock Canyon) that I realized the true purpose of my blog. As I wrote in that post, "I don't really have a life-lesson to make from this, but it was fun to reminisce on a small yet joyful event. I guess maybe that's the point-- Finding the small moments of life that are insignificant yet oh so very significant, the moments that don't last long but make a lasting impression." I hope that in the new year, you will learn to celebrate these tiny moments with newfound joy.


 "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
                  Jeremiah 29:11

Spears in the Heart (visions)

        Let me just say this: The last couple weeks have been very draining. I have had a lot of stress from school (thank goodness I'm on break for two weeks), social situations (people can be so irritating), and family (can't live with them, can't live without them). I finally had a complete breakdown today when my dad and I had a huge fight over something pathetic (like cleaning up the house).
        I have been feeling annoyed with my dad for quite some time, but I finally snapped. It seems that he is either too absent or too controlling. We never see anything eye to eye. It seems like he is at work, on the computer playing a stupid game, watching TV, or asleep. When he's awake he's too tired to spend time with my sister or me. I'm not proud of how I acted today. I overreacted and shouldn't have raised my voice at him. I'm just glad that I didn't run out of the house like I was really tempted to do.
        My sister and I did eventually leave the house in a frenzy, tears streaming down my face. I wound up at my friend's house for a Christmas get-together. I was supposed to be picked up at nine, but I decided to just stay overnight. I really didn't want to go home.
        At midnight, my friend (Shari) and I had a heart to heart. I was a mess. I know that I need to be thankful I have a dad in the first place. I know that the family I have now is the only family I will ever have, so I need to make the most of it. It's hard though.
        Shari began to pray for me and she had a vision. She saw words piercing my heart like spears, stabbing all the way through my heart, leaving holes. As she was saying this, I started to feel like I wasn't letting the wounds heal properly, as if I was letting it fester and be more painful than ever. We continued to pray, believing God would give me the patience and grace I need to have for my family.
        We turned off the lights and were listening to worship music. Songs like Arms Wide Open by Misty Edwards (I wrote about this song), Embrace by Jake Hamilton, Oh You Bring by Hillsong United... They seemed to carry a common message about God's love...
        As I was laying there in the dark, I saw a knife come down from the ceiling and plunge into my heart. I sat there, almost in awe. It was like Shari's vision but so much more vivid and personal. The knife began to grow, becoming more like a sword. I tried and tried to pull out the sword from my own heart, but could not. I felt the pain of words spoken to me, the pain of a broken relationship with my father and with my sister... Then I saw a hand stretch down from heaven and pull the sword out of my heart and heal the wound completely. A scar was left behind, but there was no wound and no more pain. It reminded me of The Sword in the Stone, the story in which the person who pulled the sword out of the stone became king. My visions seemed to show that the King of all could pull the sword from my heart.
        I guess this can apply to all people... When we hear people speaking negative things to us, we can choose to ignore or to listen. The words they speak can be planted in our hearts as weeds and wounds that fester, or as seeds that sprout into beauty and grace. Which words will you take to heart? How will you respond to negativity?
        The hardest thing is forgiveness... I always ask God for forgiveness, but I'm reluctant to forgive others, especially family. If Dad ever reads this: I'm sorry for the times I have been disrespectful to you. I know that you're not perfect, but you don't have to be. God is my perfect Father, and that's what matters most. I forgive you. Will you forgive me?
        This conversation will be so much harder in person... Will I ever get the chance to speak this to you or will I never get around to it? Who knows?
        For now, I find comfort knowing that God is my Father in heaven, loving me, loving me, and loving me even more. Whatever my earthly dad can't do, He can do perfectly. He alone can heal the wounds in my heart and give me the peace I need.
        I encourage you to find what has injured your heart and pray for your Father to remove the pain and the wound.

The Painting

Back in March, I posted a story titled "Paintings of Jesus." On Thanksgiving, I was able to take a picture of the painting that was so important to me so that I could share it with you...

Lightning and God's Spirit

        I have a heart for people--I want to help, I want to love. I just have a hard time putting myself out there. It's not because I don't know how--I don't know where to begin.

        I want to be the lightning--
                unpredictable;
        There is no beginning or end--
                it just happens.
        It doesn't think where it will go--
                it just goes.
        But lightning is fleeting;
                it never has a lasting effect.
        Does anything on earth last?
                Everything is but a breath--
        A peal of thunder--
                it rolls for moments, then
                        disappears...

        Since life is so brief, I want so much more to impact the people around me. It seems like an impossibility to touch people's hearts, so I find comfort in the words of Zechariah 4:6. "Then he said to me, 'This is the word of the LORD to Zerubbabel saying, "Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit," says the LORD of hosts.'" I looked up what the Hebrew word for Spirit meant in this context, and found that it means "wind, breath, mind, courage, blast." It usually imparts warlike energy and executive and administrative power.
        I know that I can do nothing to make someone believe. I can only trust God to work in each person's heart. Too often, I find myself like Martha., "As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She has a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, 'Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!' 'Martha, Martha,' the Lord answered, 'you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed-or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken from her.'" (Luke 10:38-42).
        I need to stop doing, and start being. I, like, Martha get caught up in the preparations. I think "if I say this and this, maybe a person might come to know Christ." I think about all the ways I can try to convince someone to believe the same as me. The truth of it is if someone can be talked into something, they can just as easily be talked out of it. Becoming a Christian isn't following a series of steps and processes and then getting a "Salvation Certificate." It is stepping into God's presence, and being in an intimate relationship with God Almighty, knowing that He has saved you from the death you deserve, instead giving you eternal life with Him. Likewise, being a Christian is not about realizing you love God but realizing God loves you. It is realizing that God is near enough to you to hear the faintest whisper of a thought in your heart.
        When I come into conversation with someone who is not a Christian, I don't pray "God, give me the words to speak to them so they can know you," like I used to pray. Instead, I pray "God, let your presence be upon me so this person can feel your presence." God's Spirit is the most powerful force, so why--and how--do we forget His importance?

The Size of an Ant (vision)

       I see you walking through the grass--you are about the size of an ant. There are other people walking around, also very small. Everyone looks up; you see a giant foot about to come down. People run frantically away, scurrying in every direction, terrified of getting stepped on. You stand still right where you are. You watch as the foot comes down directly in front of you--you narrowly missed it, but others were not so lucky. Something tells you that you would have been squished if you had been running away. The danger passes and you continue to walk. As you walk, you begin to grow. You are taller than the other people, the blades of grass, the flowers... You see the person whose foot you had nearly been stepped on by, and you begin walking quickly and purposely towards him. As you approach him, you realize you are much bigger than he. At first, you couldn't tell it you had grown larger than him or if he was just a smaller person. When you get near to him, you see he is a young child. You reach out and put a hand on his shoulder; he turns, startled and afraid. You smile gently and put your arm around him. You speak to him; he listens intently. I don't know the words you spoke, but I know it has to do with him scaring all the little people. The two of you begin to shrink down to the size you had been before. People come from all over--they recognize this kid as the one who threatened them earlier. You begin to speak and their faces change from being angry to showing compassion. All the people embrace the boy and he becomes a part of the community.

My interpretation:
       You are in a community of people who always fear something bigger than them. This "community" might be a group of friends, acquaintances, maybe even strangers. The constant fear could be of something supernatural or it could be a situation in life that scares them. When everyone else panics, you remain calm and listen to the small voice inside you that tells you to remain where you are; this winds up saving you. Your ability to stand firm shows courage and faith; you were able to conquer the fear that cripples the people of your community. Because of this, you were able to become larger than the problem itself and come face to face with it. You saw that the problem was not as threatening as everyone thought it was--in the vision it was a young, small person that you can easily talk to (this could symbolize a problem that you can easily manage). You are able to bring this "problem" down to the size of your community. I think this shows that the people's fear was blown out of proportion compared to the size of the problem. After talking with the people of your community, they come to realize the problem is not as big as they thought; it is nothing to fear.
       I guess I can sum this all up to: You overcome a fear that cripples the people around you and eventually prove to those people there is nothing for them to be afraid of.

Rain

The rain falls down,
           washing away the grime of today,
                    cleansing and preparing the way for tomorrow.
The angry clouds loom overhead,
           pouring out their wrath.
Tomorrow they will vanish
           and humbly let the sun
                     shine its favor over the land.
Blue skies will seem foreign
           yet clear and welcomed.
Flowers which have hidden their petals
           from gloom now blossom
                     in the radiance of the new day.
The saying "The grass is always greener"
           now rings true--
The grass is greener than yesterday,
           but it is unknown
                     if it will be greener tomorrow.
Raindrops slid down the window pane,
           blurring the view of the world;
Now, it is crystal clear,
           displaying the world like a vivid painting
                     by an artist with a colorful imagination.
The purity and simplicity
           of the world revealed;
The clouds drifting slowly
           over the edge of the distant horizon.
                      Hope.
A soft breeze, rustling the leaves.
                      Hope.
A new day,
           a new beginning.
                      Hope.

Old to New Shoes (vision)

      I see you trying on dresses--brand new, fancy, elegant dresses. You are putting on jewels--earrings, necklaces, bracelets. You are looking into a mirror at all aspects of yourself. Leaning across the desktop, you stare into your eyes deeply. You lean back, brushing and fixing your hair. You are all set to go to a ball. As you step out of the house, you realize your feet are cold and look down. You have no shoes on. You run back inside to your closet and open the doors. No shoes. You search, tearing apart your closet, knowing you'll never find any shoes. Just then, a knock at the door. You walk over, head hung low, feet dragging, and open the door. A friend holds out a pair of shoes for you. They are old shoes, worn countless times. At first you consider turning down the offer but figure the old is better than nothing. Changing your attitude, you become very thankful, taking the shoes with pride, dignity, and gratitude, becoming more excited for the ball. As you slip on the shoes, they change into new, sparkling beautiful shoes that match your outfit perfectly. You are ready. You step out of the house confident and glowing with happiness. Tonight you will turn heads--you will be unforgetable.

My interpretation...
      I notice that as you looked in the mirror you weren't being vain but proud of who you are. You thought you were ready to go out, but realized you were missing a very important item. You were determined to find shoes, searching and searching but ending in disappointment. At the moment of greatest despair a friend steps in to rescue you. I think that the shoes could represent faith. Someone offers to help you when you have little or no faith and because of this lack of faith you don't see how they can help. At the point you become thankful for their help, it transforms into something that fits perfectly into your life. Gratitude leads to provision. From what I can tell, God (and pretty much anyone else on Earth) hates to provide for people who grumble, whine, and complain.
      Faith is more of a walk than a blind leap. You had to walk to the closet, and even when you were upset by the outcome of that situation, you walk to the door. From there you walk with your new shoes outside and onto the ball.
      Also, you are a very thrifty person. You make old clothes appear to be the newest, trendiest fashions ever! :) I find it funny that the vision I had of you had a hint of this in it... The old shoes becoming new and a part of your elegant ensemble.

Lamppost In A Storm (vision)

      I see you lying awake in bed. It's a dark night with clouds thickly covering the sky. After tossing and turning, you sit up with the blankets covering your legs. You are wearing a white night gown with long sleeves--the old-fashioned kind. You turn on your light--an old lamp on a bedside table. The light flickers. The wind is blowing hard outside and tree branches--empty, without leaves--scratch at the window. You slide your legs over the side of your bed and slip your feet into soft slippers. You walk to the window and look out. It's a big window--floor to celing-- and you're on the second floor of your house. You see a lamppost down the street with a flickering flame inside the glass panes of the top of the post. It begins to rain--lightly at first, then harder and harder. The light in your room goes out. Following the darkness, lightning flashes several times. The thunder rolls in many seconds later. You are not fearful in the least bit. If anything, you are intrigued and excited.
      You make your way through the dark house and down a winding, stone stairwell that leads outside. You step out into the storm as lightning strikes--thunder follows much quicker than before--yet you don't get wet from the rain. You stand below the enormous, bare tree. You circle it once, twice, three times and begin backing away. Lightning flashes and thunder claps--the lightning is getting closer. You turn around and start walking towards the lamppost. The clouds begin to pull back and the full moon shines down, illuminating your path better. As you approach the lamppost, you notice things you couldn't have seen from your bedroom window. Tree roots are sprouting from the bottom of the post and ivy grows, wrapping around the post. Instead of just one flame, the lamp has three flames in it. You stand next to the lamppost, facing your home.
      Lightning strikes the base of the tree and it it bursts into flames. You sit down at the base of the lamppost and watch the fire consume the tree. Your house remains unscathed. The wind dies down, the lightning and thunder stops, but the rain continues relentlessly. You continue to sit and watch as the flames on the tree die down. When there is hardly any fire left, you walk to the tree's remains. All that is left is a charred stump and dry roots. You shake your head out of sadness. You look to the the moon, your room, then the lamppost. You run up the stairwell, into your room, and into your closet. You pull out a wicker basket and run to the lamppost. You begin to pick off the ivy leaves and place them in your basket. As you pick the leaves, thorns and rosebuds sprout in their place (you don't touch these). When you finish picking all the ivy and your basket is full, you run to the dead tree stump.
      You spread all the ivy onto the stump. The ivy sort of melts into the stump and a new tree begins to grow. Its branches stretch as high as, if not higher than, before. Leaves sprout from these new, healthy limbs. You look to the lamppost. There is one large flame glowing from the top and all the roses are in full bloom. The rain stops and the sky is cloudless.
      Smiling to yourself, you walk to your bedroom. You sit on the edge of your bed, slide off your slippers, swing your legs onto the bed, and pull your covers up. You notice that your lamp has turned back on so you lean over, turn it off, and lay back in bed. You are asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

My interpretation...
      First off, I'd like to point out that you and your clothes remain unchanged throughout. In all my other visions (there are much more than what I've posted), there was at least one change in at least one article of clothing or other parts of appearance. These changes represent changes in themselves--their attitude, heart, mind, etc. Your vision did not have that. Second, the white nightgown made me think of purity, simplicity, and integrity.
      You remain fearless throughout.
      I have yet to talk to you about this, and I'm sure it'll make more sense when we talk. I'll be honest: I'm kind of confused by the meaning of this.
      I can see that you will be bringing something thought dead back to life (probably on a spiritual or metaphorical level, but you never know).
      I did some research on ivy and found some interesting symbolism. Ivy is usually considered symbolic of friendship and growth. Ivy is durable and can withstand even some of the harshest conditions. It represents determination because it is virtually indestructable--it can survive and grow back even after suffering damage or being cut. Some say it is an example of human character/spirit because of the strength and ability to carry on regardless of setbacks. Ivy grows in spirals which can be seen as expansion and rebirth. This I find most interesting considering the ivy leaves bring back the dead tree.

Swimming Raft and Flower Crowns (vision)

      I see you standing on a swimming raft in a lake (see picture below: it's pretty much a wooden platform floating in a lake). The wind circles around you, blowing your hair in your face and bringing you chills. You begin to spin in circles, kind of dancing in the wind. But you are hesitant to really dance with the wind and let loose because you fear falling into the water. The wind continues to blow; gusts are getting stronger--their force is moving you about on the platform. You get dangerously close to being pushed into the water by the wind. Finally, you decide you will dive in. Rather than being forced in, you choose to (it allows you to prepare yourself for the shock of the cold water and to land properly in the water). You put your hands together over your head, lean forward, and dive into the dark water. You brace yourself for extreme cold and are surprised to find that it is not as cold as expected. You are also surprised at yourself with your lack of fear--you have no fear of drowning or other creatures in the lake, and you do not fear becoming lost in the lake.
      You swim to the shore. You shake your head and water goes flying--your hair is instantly dry, as are all your clothes, which have changed (on the platform, you had been wearing a sweatjackt and jeans with red Converse--now you are wearing a white, flowing dress and are barefoot). You sit cross-legged a ways from the shore in a patch of tiny white flowers. You pick many flowers and begin to weave yourself a crown out of these flowers. As you do this, new flowers grow rapidly in their place--bigger and bolder-colored flowers. Also, children start coming and sitting around you. They gather in a circle, all sitting-cross-legged-- just like you-- and leaning forward, heads propped on their hands, watching you intently.
      You have finished the crown you were working on and give it to one child. Then you pick more of the tiny white flowers and make more crowns. Eventually, you have made enough crowns for all the children. Each child then picks a flower--these are the newer, bigger, bolder flowers. They hand you these flowers and you weave them into a crown. You ask "Whose crown is this?: One child stands up, takes the crown from your hands, and places it on your head. All of you stand in a circle, clasp hands, and dance in a circle (something like "Ring Around the Rosy" but without the song). Once again, the wind begins to blow as you dance with the children.

My Interpretation...

      The first part reminds me of John 3:5-8,11-13. "Jesus answered, 'Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives to spirit. You should not be surprised at my saying 'You must be born again.' The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit...Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony. I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things?'"

       When I read "born of water and Spirit" I think of baptism of each. Also, He says that you can't discredit the spiritual world because you can't see it--You can't see the wind, but you can feel its effects. Another aspect of the wind that is true of God: you can't see where it comes from or where it will be going.

      When you were on the swimming raft, you had to make a conscious decision to dive in and be "baptized" in a sense. Nothing could force you to do that. You had thought you were free until you say how limited you actually were on the raft.

      You emerge from the water in new clothing--you aren't your old self anymore--in a way, you are a new creation. You were wearing a white, flowing dress--what I see as a symbol of purity and honesty/integrity. The barefeet make me think of freedom. The patch of white flowers--purity, life, and growth. The children are your ministry (I know how much you already love teaching and being around kids); this vision can be an affirmation to you that you were meant for teaching kids. The children came to you and, first, imitated the way you acted, then eagerly and intently watched you. You passed on crowns to them that you put love and care into--crowns made from life, purity, and growth. In the end they gave you a crown of blessings--the flowers that had grown as a result of picking the flowers for the children's crowns. The vision ends with everyone dancing in freedom with the Spirit. 

Field of Dandelions and Daisies (vision)

      I see you in an old wooden ship. You are scared out of your mind because it is rocking back and forth; you are afraid you will capsize and drown. You put on a lifejacket and run around frantically. Looking over the side of the ship you realize the ship is in a small pond. The huge waves you felt were mere ripples in the pond. You jump out of the ship, landing in the shallow water. You slide off your shoes and start running through the tall green grass. You are wearing a yellow, flowing dress.
      As you are running through the field, you see a spiral staircase stretching into the sky. You begin climbing the stairs. You get to a point where you stop, looking around you. All you see is the field for as far as the eye can see. You shrug (thinking "What's the point of climbing this staircase?), turn, and start walking back down the stairs. On your way down you sit on the bannister and slide down. The momentum gives you a running start as you go running off into the field
      There are no mountains, no valleys--only the field you are running barefoot through. The field becomes full of dandelions and daisies. You stand and spin in this field, then plop down onto the ground. You sit there and pick a dandelion and a daisy. You hold the dandelion in your left hand and the daisy in your right hand. You look at both intensely, but hold up the dandelion. You close your eyes and blow on it. The seeds disperse, flying with the wind. You lay back and stare up at the sun as the wind continues to blow.

My interpretation...
      The vision came in three parts: 1) the ship 2) the staircase, and 3) the dandelions/daisies. The ship could be something in your life that you think is a big issue that will end in disaster, but realize your fear blocked the reality of the situation. This reminds me of the saying "Big fish in a small pond." Maybe you need to escape the confines of a "ship" in your life and go running free through a field (metaphorically speaking). :)
      The barefeet and yellow dress make me think of freedom. I resarched the meaning of colors, and yellow (like your dress) tends to be a color of energy and clarity--clarity for decision-making, relief from panic and nervousness, and protection from depression.
      You see a spiral staircase with seemingly no end. You climb but realize it's in vain--you can see it won't get you anywhere by climbing it so you quit it. On your way down, you decide to slide down the bannister--a quicker way to leave the staircase--which launches you into your running start towards the field.
      There are no mountains or valleys--few struggles or despair. The dandelions are weeds, but I see them as a positive type weed. Instead of weeds of hate, I see weeds of love and hope (sounds a little paradoxical, I know). The love can be scattered and grow back tenfold. When you sit down, you pick a daisy and a dandelion. Instead of the daisy, you prefer the dandelion which you close your eyes and seemingly make a wish on. The seeds go flying, something I see as scattering hope and love. As I talked with you, I describe the daisy as the "He-loves-me-He-loves-me-not" flower. I think it means something... The "He-loves-me..." mentality leaves it up to chance and superstition, while dandelion has so much more hope and wishful thinking behind it that leads to the planting of countless seeds.
      You end in such a state of peace and tranquility, resting in the sun (which I think is a funy play on the word "Son"--Jesus).

Visions

The next several posts are visions I have had for people in my life. I guess they would be considered prophetic because I speak to these people only what God tells me--things I couldn't possibly know on my own. I think about Zechariah 4:6 where it says "Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit."

I will keep them anonymous but the person it's for will know... I think the visions are fascinating and worth sharing.

Arms Wide Open

        What do you think of when you hear the phrase "arms wide open"? I always pictured this: a father throwing his arms out, a child running into them, a warm and passionate embrace. It's how I envisioned my relationship with Christ, my Heavenly Father. He had his arms wide open, waiting for me to abandon myself and run into His embrace.
        I was at church recently and we sang a song by Misty Edwards called "Arms Wide Open." I had a vision that changed how I see Christ. "What does love look like?" is the question I've been pondering. / "What does love look like?" is the question I've been asking You. I've been having a hard time grasping the concept of how much God loves me. I have grown up in the church and the teachings have been engrained in my mind--"God loves you," "Jesus died for you," et cetera. But I'm trying to understand God's love on an intimate level, going beyond the cliche phrases and the routine of church.
        And then I saw Him there, hanging on a tree, looking at me / He was looking at me, looking at Him, staring at me / I could not escape those beautiful eyes / And I began to weep and weep. I began to vividly see what the song described. I began to see Christ's eyes, looking at me deeply, intently. In that moment I couldn't catch my breath; it hit me harder than ever before that my sin had put Him on the cross. I wept.
        He had arms wide open, a heart exposed / Arms wide open; He was bleeding, bleeding / This is how I know what love is. My heart was pierced hearing these lyrics. Christ's arms are wide open because they were nailed that way. His arms stretched from one side of the cross's beam to the other, held there by a nail in each wrist. This is how I know what love is. Love is the perfect Son of God pouring out His blood, His life, while hanging on a tree for my sin.
        And as I sat there weeping, crying / Those beautiful eyes, full of desire and love / He said to me, "You shall love Me, you shall love Me, you shall love Me."  When I first saw His eyes I thought I saw pain, sorrow, and betrayal. I felt like I had betrayed Him, as if I had personally kissed His cheek to turn Him over to the soldiers, as if I had swung the hammer that drove the nails into His flesh. But His eyes weren't blaming me. His eyes were full of desire and love for me. He died for His love for me. "This is how God showed his love to us: He sent his one and only Son into the world so that we could have life through him." (1 John 4:9) When you understand how deep and infinite His love is, you can only begin to love Him back. "You shall love Me, you shall love Me..."

Highways and Freeways

        Lately, I have been using a lot of freeways and began to wonder the difference between highways and freeways. It turns out, freeway can be defined as a "limited access highway." Oh, the irony! Who knew "free" meant limited access? A highway is a road going from point A to point B, most often connecting cities, with many intersections, businesses, and homes in between. Highways have more stop lights and fewer lanes (sometimes even have more traffic), while freeways go faster and are wider. That's probably why we hear of highwaymen and not "freewaymen"--there's a slim chance of a robber being successful with cars zooming by at seventy-five miles per hour.
        Something has also been bothering me about using the term freeway... There's really no freedom in deciding where you want to go. There are different on-ramps, exits, and freeways you can take, but you can't suddenly decide what to do. For example, if you see a McDonalds next to the freeway, you have to wait for an exit; you have to use the roads that have been made, not carve your own path on a freeway. And if, by chance, you miss your exit, you can't turn around. You have to keep driving and wait for the next exit (and hope there's another one close by).
        Somehow, in my mind, I made a connection between highways, freeways, and obedience to God. Freeways are when you are trying to obey God, while highways are the times of disobedience. This epiphany came when I heard someone say "It's my way or the highway." I feel like God is often saying this to me--Obey me. Trust me. Do as I say. As I said before, highways are slower and encounter more cross-roads (therefore more wrong turns), detours, and highwaymen. Especially without directions or a map. That seems to describe what happens when we disobey God.
        Freeways best illustrate obedience. God has a path planned for us, He tells us to make a specific turn, and we can choose to go His way or not. Sometimes that means we take the wrong exit and start driving the highway. Other times, we get stuck in traffic because we hesitate to listen. And still there are times where we actually follow His instructions and experience a pleasant journey.
        Another thought about the term freeway... It is called free, not because of the freedom to choose where to go, but for the lack of toll fees. The freeway is paid for by taxes, but it is not required to pay each and every time you enter or exit the freeway. Think about it. Each and every time you disobey you don't have to pay your way back into His presence. He asks you to sacrifice (money, time, etc.), but He doesn't charge you every time you decide to obey. God made the ultimate sacrifice to pay for our entrance onto the freeway--Christ.
        Now when I go on a freeway I think of God saying "My way or the highway." I pray that we can all have the strength and grace to do God's will, and never have to leave the freeway of obedience.

Star-Gazing In Vegas

       I must say the most unexpected joy of the trip was star-gazing in Vegas. Every night, I would quickly check the sky for stars and be disappointed by the lack of stars. I love to gaze at stars, and here I was in Vegas and not able to see any because of all the city lights.
       On the last night of our trip, I was outside writing in a journal when I paused and looked at the night sky for the last time. There, I saw a few twinkling stars.
       My grandma stepped out of the RV and looked up. She has been teaching herself all sorts of astronomy, and passing her knowledge onto me. She has taught me what zenith meant (the highest point in the sky) and where to find Orion and Polaris and many other stars. We've spent nights in Tahoe, at the beach, and even at home looking up to the sky and pointing at various speckles of sparkles in the dark sky.
       That last night we stood together once more. It was unusual-- I thought-- to see so many stars in Vegas. Maybe they've shown every night and I just never noticed. Perhaps I just assumed they wouldn't shine, so I didn't look hard enough. Nevertheless, there those gorgeous stars were, shining as brilliant as they ever could.
       I think I'm the same way with other things in life: I assume they are one way so I don't even bother to check. There are times when this doesn't even apply to physical or tangible things (like stars). Truth-- the always just-out-of-reach snippet of fact. People take things for truth at the blink of an eye, whether it's their own opinion or what someone else told them.
       It's the same way with sin. Think about this: Satan is referred to as the Angel of Light. Why? My guess is because he disguises himself as a magnificent, light "angel," attracting people to him because they assume "light=good." Yes, light is mostly good, unless it is blinding us from reality. Vegas seems to be an angel of light in a way. The glowing, flashing lights leading people in, then snatching them into a wrong lifestyle.
       Yet even through all the light pollution of the city, I could still see stars. It was as if God was finding a way to be seen through the glare of the glitz and glam of a sinful city. And isn't that true always? He always finds a way to shine through, even in the midst of the distractions of the glaring, blinding, destructive light of sin.

Red Rock Canyon

       On the Friday of our trip, we went to Red Rock Canyon National Preservation Area. At the Visitors' Center, there were four sections, each describing the four forces that shaped the canyon: earth, wind, water, and fire. I laughed to myself that it left out the biggest force of all: God. After going through the center, we drove on a narrow, winding road through Red Rock Canyon. It was amazing to look around me and see the natural beauty. I couldn't help but think, with a bit of scorn, The city slickers probably don't even know what they're missing. All they'd have to do is drive a bit outside of town and they'd be in this beautiful, new world.
       We drove for miles in the canyon. Many people would get tired of the drive-- they'd say "If you've seen one rock you've seem 'em all." But I beg to differ. I couldn't get enough! It took everything in me to not go running into the hills, climbing the rocks, wandering the trails. I had this inexplicable urge to just get lost. Of course, now I'm glad I didn't act on that bizarre impulse. But at the time, the only thing keeping me from wandering off was that my grandparents were in the car, waiting for me. Every now and then-- no, every few hundred feet-- they had to slow (sometimes stop) the car for me to take pictures. I wanted to take a picture of every peak of every mountain and all the plants and rocks in between. Most of the time, though, I would roll down my window and take pictures as quick as I could, before the scene would disappear in our trail of dust.
       I really liked the feeling of being almost alone. Occasionally there would be other cars and other sight-seers, but most of the time it was just us.
       It was sad leaving the beautiful landscape. As we zoomed away, I rolled my window down and stuck my head out so I could look back. I now know why it is that dogs hang their faces out of cars. It somehow brings such freedom and joy! While I enjoyed myself, my family laughed at me for my silliness. But I wasn't being silly-- I was being as free as I could be while cramped in a car with my family.
       I'm not sure why, but those few minutes of wind blowing my face, whipping my hair around me, were some of the best minutes of the whole trip.
       I don't really have a life-lesson to make from this, but it was fun to reminisce on a small yet joyful event. I guess maybe that's the point-- Finding the small moments of life that are insignificant yet oh so very significant, the moments that don't last long but make a lasting impression.

Las Vegas

I just came back from a trip to Las Vegas, Nevada today. While on the trip, I continued to write and now I can finally post what I wrote...

       I learned I was going to Vegas about a month ago. To say I was unhappy would be the biggest understatement-- I was mad. Since who knows how long, I have hated Vegas. I tried to be optimistic about the trip, I really tried, but it was an uphill battle. When I packed, I focused on the fact that vacation was vacation, no matter where it was. But that's no consolation considering I was expecting a trip to Lake Tahoe. Instead, I was headed off to Las Vegas-- the hot, sticky, over-populated Sin City.

       On the first night of our trip, I asked my grandparents if we could drive down the strip-- I wanted to see the lights I remembered from my trip there years ago. My grandparents, cousin, sister, and I piled into the car and drove away from the RV resort we were staying at and began our drive down the Strip. It was a lot less impressive than I remembered. Maybe it's the fact that I've grown up and the buildings aren't as big to me. There were still zillions of dazzling lights-- like I remembered-- but they weren't as amazing for some reason. It was almost overwhelming-- there was so much to look at-- yet underwhelming. I had been expecting to be blown away by the lights and buildings, but there was something nagging me at the back of my mind.

       When I was little, it was easy to be impressed at the spectacle of the Strip. But now, at seventeen years old, I saw more... the darker side of the city full of lights, Sin City. It's as if my eyes were opened to a new aspect of the city.
       I saw advertisements for call girls posted on the enormous billboards. Inappropriate magazines sold shamelessly on the streets. Ads for recreational hypnotists. Ads for alcohol of all kinds. Excessive gambling. Girls walking down the Strip in bikini tops and flirting with strange men. People staggering while clutching their bottles of booze. Billboards lined the highways, boasting of topless bars and all sorts of debauchery. Maybe I'm just naive, but I never expected to see nearly nude women on the largest billboards in the city. Then again, I should have expected something like that because it is, after all, Sin City.

       As we drove down the Strip, I prayed. Most of the time, I couldn't find the words to pray. As strange as it sounds, I felt my spirit aching and crying for the lost people of Vegas. I constantly felt like I was trying to speak telepathically to passersby: Put down your beer bottle and walk straight... Girls, respect yourselves... I just wanted so desperately to see an end to what went on in the night.

       We got back to the RV after our drive and I couldn't sleep; I felt sick to my stomach. Thoughts milled through my mind... How did Vegas become the mecca for pilgrims of perversion? What is it about Vegas that allows people to lose any sense of good judgment or morals?
       The answer: Safety in numbers. In Vegas, you can act like a chameleon, and blend into the background. No one will notice you if you do something everyone else is doing. There's no shame in Vegas because no one notices you. No one is going to point out the speck in someone's eye because everyone else has a plank in their own.
      There's something fascinating (and disturbing) about this "mob mentality" or, as some call it, the "majority opinion" (which sounds a bit nicer, don't you agree?). In his book The Martian Chronicles, Ray Bradbury brings to light some important thoughts and questions regarding the majority :

“I hate this feeling of thinking I’m doing right when I’m not really certain I am. Who are we, anyway? The majority? Is that the answer? The majority is always holy, is it not? Always, always; just never wrong for one little insignificant tiny moment, is it? ...What is this majority and who are in it? And what do they think and how did they get that way and will they ever change…? I don’t feel comfortable [as a part of the majority]. Is it claustrophobia, fear of crowds, or common sense? Can one man be right, while all the world thinks they are right?”

       What if the mob mentality wasn't negative? Why can't the "minority" step forward and prove the majority wrong for the sake of morality? Again, Bradbury captures the essence of this issue:

“[T]here was always a minority afraid of something, and a great majority afraid of the dark, afraid of the future, afraid of the past, afraid of the present, afraid of themselves and shadows of themselves.”

       My question, now, is this: What is the minority afraid of? In Las Vegas, the minority is the people who know that any sin is a sin against God and shouldn't be taken lightly. What could the reason for not confronting the problem? Is it intimidation? If that's the problem, the "minority" should realize: God is on their side. Why should they be afraid?

Romans 8:31 "If God is for us, no one can defeat us."

Doctors

      Only doctors can get away with saying "I'm glad I haven't seen you in a while." They live, after all, by the old saying no news is good news. Obviously no one goes to the doctor just for fun, so it can be assumed something is wrong if they show up at a doctor's office.
      If I was a doctor, I would get sick of people coming in and complaining about their various illnesses. I would also hate to be the one to inform a patient of a terrible disease they contracted.
      I'm glad I'm not God.
      God is a sort of doctor. Too bad we treat Him like one. We often only go to Him when we're sick or when we're in need.
      At least God doesn't require insurance. Imagine... Everyone is praying for a miracle healing over you. Then, you hear a booming voice: "Sorry. You don't have the right insurance. Come back later." What would the price of such insurance be? Then again... There is a price to pay for receiving God's healing--Faith. You have to do the difficult task of abandoning any ideas you have about the ordinary and expecting the extraordinary.
      Instead of calling on God only when we're sick or in trouble, we need to treat Him like a best friend, rather than a doctor. No best friend would (or should) say "I hope I don't have to see you again soon."

Birthdays

Today is my birthday, so I figured it would be an appropriate subject to write about...

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       Birthdays: A symbol of birth, new life. An annual reminder of how far you've come, a progression from one stage of life to another, the beginning of a new chapter.
       Age is a tricky concept. Some see age as a negative thing (the more we live, the closer we are to death), but others view it as a process of becoming wiser (wisdom comes with age). In that light, why wouldn't someone want to be older?
       It's funny thinking about age as a number. Some numbers sound so much older than they are. Seventeen sounds a lot older than sixteen, eighteen sounds a lot older than seventeen. It's a progression. Certain years are super important: 13 (you're finally a teenager!), 16 (you're starting to become a young adult!), 18 (you are an adult!--legally, anyway)... To anyone under twenty, twenty sounds old. To anyone over twenty, twenty sounds young.
       Any increase in age represents an increase in maturity (hopefully).
       It's the same principle with our spiritual lives. At the point we accept Jesus as our Savior, we are born again as new creations (2 Corinthians 5:17). And, like babies, we need to be nurtured. 1 Peter 2:2-3 says, "Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good." What is spiritual milk? What nurtures our spirit? Reading the Bible--hearing God's Word, living and breathing new life into you daily. Praying--no baby develops properly without the love of a parent, and what better way is there to experience that love than to be in constant communication with our Heavenly Father? Fellowship--being with other Christians to keep you accountable, and to pray with you and for you.
        If we are born again, why don't we celebrate spiritual birthdays? To me, everyday can be--or should be--that celebration. Who doesn't want to party everyday?

    

Beauty Pageants and Models

       At any given time, there are countless girls staring at their reflection, primping and priming for the off-chance they are accepted into a pageant or photoshoot. It truly is an off-chance. Considering how many girls in the United States are aspiring to be a famous model or a contestant in a pageant, the chances of being successful seem slimmer than the models themselves.
       These girls don't just aspire: They live for it. Every step they take, it is a strut for a runway. Every outfit they put on, they are modeling. Every pause in movement is a pose.
       Think of the money they spend to perfect themselves! They pay for designer clothes, which are ludicrously expensive (Who would pay two thousand dollars for a dress that will be worn once?); application fees for pageants; costs of photoshoots; and expenses for cosmetics, and - unfortunately - Botox, plastic surgery, and similar procedures (I'm not saying all models have plastic surgery, but it sure seems that way). They hire consultants (mostly women who tried to win pageants, failed, and now coach other girls how to "win") to improve their chances of doing well in contests.
       Not only are they investing money, they invest time. Hours and hours are spent practicing their walk, their poses, their facial expressions (their smizing, as Tyra calls it)... They wait for call-backs from auditions and agencies...
       It's a shame that so many girls invest so much time, money, and energy into this, only to find out they aren't accepted. What happens to the girls who don't make it into fame and fortune? Do they have a back-up plan? Unfortunately, a lot of girls are so confident they will succeed (or don't know of any other talent they might have), they don't consider an alternative.
       What do you dedicate your life to? How much time do you put into that? Is it a hobby, obsession, or passion? Where will it take you? Is it worth the risks it requires you to take?
       Know that God can be your greatest passion. He shouldn't be put on hold until Sunday. He needs to be something you live and breathe. Every step you take should be following in God's footsteps. Everything you do should be something He would do.
      It's interesting that the word model means to copy. After all, most models are copies of each other. Stereotypically speaking, models are white, blonde, and they act according to stereotypical model behavior (excessive dieting, et cetera). According to some people, good models are those that look like Barbies. Hopefully, everyone knows that Barbies set impossible standards for perfection.
       In that light, we should be like models. However, we imitate Christ, not people. We aim for beautiful souls, not beautiful bodies. God is ultimate perfection. We can only strive to be like Him, but never reach that same perfection (besides, if we were perfect, we wouldn't need God). God's perfection shows us our imperfections, all that we need to improve. No, we aren't saved by being good people, but we are to be like Christ. And how are we to be like Christ if we don't see our shortcomings, our need to change for the better? If more Christians start "modeling" God, more people might be able to see why He needs to be in their lives too.

Rear View Mirrors

      The Bible is not a book of answers. It is not an instruction manual for life, either. Yes, people--including me--continue to use it for those purposes, but God had something else in mind when he had people write down His Words.
      As humans, we love to take things out of context. Newspaper headlines always skew what really happened by trying to abbreviate what happened, sometimes humorously. One newspaper headline read "Red Tape Holds Up New Bridge," while another read "Two Sisters Reunited After 18 Years at a Checkout Counter." The truth of the stories gets completely undermined by the error in the headline.
      We do the same thing while reading the Bible and memorizing verses. My pastor recently pointed out that one of the most misused verses is Philippians 4:13 ("I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me"). Nearly everyone uses this verse as encouragement in difficult situations or as motivation to attempt achievement at a daunting--or impossible--task. Yet no one looks at the context of the verse. In Philippians 4:10-12, Paul is explaining how he is able to be happy in difficult times, and in verse 13 explains that he can do this because Christ gives him strength. Philippians 4:13 is not a verse to empower people to accomplish the impossible (like becoming the best athlete in the world without proper training), but to encourage others and show it is possible to be joyful in life's toughest trials.
      Many other verses we use as a sort of life GPS. We pray and pray and pray, asking God for direction, open our Bibles and take the first verse we see as the rule to accomplish our goal. Often times, we follow this verse blindly as our instruction when, really, that verse has nothing to do with our situation. Context. If God gave you that verse, He wasn't telling you to blindly follow that one verse. He was showing you the passage from His Word, so you could see how He works.
       Let's say you were worrying about providing food for your family, so you ask God for help. After praying, you read Exodus 16. You would never assume that God will make manna rain down for you and your family! Instead, see this as a message of God's provision. You need not worry about tomorrow's meal because God will provide for each day's need.
       In this way, the Bible is like a rear view mirror. We must look to it to observe how God has worked in the past and see how it can keep us going forward. We have to keep our eyes forward, anticipating how He will work in the present.

Geologists and Their Rocks

      Geologists study rocks. Rocks. Of all creation that can be studied, geologists dedicate their lives to the study of rocks. Rocks seem random and pointless. Why would anyone want to study them for hours on end? How much can be learned from rocks? Quite a lot, actually, but it doesn't require any geology.
      As strange as this seems, we are all very similar to rocks.When you look at yourself compared to the universe, you begin to feel very small and valueless. In the grand scheme of things, we all seem to be worthless and unworthy, unimportant and unuseful. Why should God pay attention to us at all? God sees us differently than we view ourselves and each other. Instead of seeing us as insignificant, He sees as beautiful creatons--His creations. He spends an infinite amount of time just being with us, and being an active part of our lives. And what's great is that He never gets bored with us, like a geologist who enjoys what he does. On TV, we see all sorts of nerdy scientists who are overly emphatic about what they do. All they can talk about is their most recent scientific study or how science applies to every moment of the day. God is, in a way, like that. He is passionate for you.
      John 3:16 is probably the most quoted verse from the Bible. "For God so loved the world..." The world. Many times, we forget that we are part of the world referred to in this verse. We forget about the personal love God feels for every individual. The world is such a collective word. It's easy to get lost in the collective world and not realize God has a relationship with every individual, with you, with me. If I wrote the Bible, I might have written it "For God so loved you and me and everybody else.."
      On the beach, each grain of sand is a miniature rock. The world is like that endless shore of countless miniature rocks. No one ever stops to care about each grain of sand. Yet God, the passionate God He is, looks at each grain of sand--at you and me--and adores it.

Mirrors

Genesis 1:27
"So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them."

Nehemiah 9:28-29
"But as soon as they had rest, they again did what was evil. So you left them to their enemies who ruled over them. When they cried out to you again, you heard from heaven. Because of your mercy, you saved them again and again [28]. You warned them to return to your teachings, but they were proud and did not obey your commands. If someone obeys your laws, he will live, but they sinned against your laws. They were stubborn, unwilling, and disobedient [29]."

      These two verses look like they have absolutely nothing in common, nor do they appear to have any relation to mirrors. However, I think I can prove otherwise.

      From the very beginning of our American lives, we are trained to look into mirrors. Many societies have no such device, nor do they have a need for mirrors. In America, we are a vain people. Over the course of our lives, we spend countless hours staring deeply into our reflection, trying to correct the imperfections, hide the flaws, and make our appearance better overall. It is extremely likely that girls spend more time in front of the mirror than guys, but we are all guilty of some level of vanity.
      But this obsession of looking into mirrors is not innate; little children have to learn how to use mirrors. At first, most children are confused by the person looking back at them. For all they know, it could be another person; it is impossible for a young child to recognize himself in a mirror. It takes a long process of sitting in front of a mirror, holding up a hand, and watching the reflection do the same. After a while, it starts to register in the brain that this reflection is you. From then on out, the person is constantly looking in the mirror, searching for imperfections and wishing to be better.
      Genesis 1:27 says God made us in His image. He made us to be a reflection of Him: when He looks into our world, He should be able to see Himself staring back. But He doesn't. It's very similar to Through the Looking Glass, where Alice stepped through her mirror and entered a world that is the complete opposite of the real world. God reached into our world by sending Jesus, and by doing this, Jesus entered a world that was the complete opposite of the world it reflects. We were made to be reflections of God and our actions should mimic His, similar to how the image in a mirror can do nothing without the movement of the thing it reflects.
      Our failure to reflect God is comparable to a broken mirror--it is a broken image of the beauty it reflects. God should be able to look at this world and be proud of what He sees: a world of love and mercy. However, He looks at it and can see all of its imperfections. Yes, He continues to love the world He created, despite the cracks in the image. But why should we take advantage of His never-ending love?
      Count up all the times you sinned--every wrong thought, every wrong word or action, that you did or will do--and you will start to see what a broken fragment of a mirror you are. Now try to count up all the times God has had mercy on you, all the times He loved you. It would be an impossible task. We continue to fail, but God's love never ends, never fails. Nehemiah 9:28-29 describes a cycle that the Israelites went through, and that every human goes through. We rebel and when the situation becomes sticky, we cry for God's help. God helps us, and we respond with more rebellion (and the cycle continues). Yet, despite our failures, God keeps loving us. He never gives up on us, He does not grow weary with us.
      What if we reflected God's love, His infinite and perfect love? Instead of being a shattered mirror, each person would reflect God's heart and live like Christ. The world would cease to exist as the backwards and broken image, but the true reflection of God, the way He intended us to be. God would be able to look at the world He created in His image and see clearly His reflection.

The Pledge of Allegiance

        "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic

        for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

      These words are forever engraved in the minds of all U.S. citizens. One of the first few things we learned in kindergarten was how to recite the pledge of allegiance. Ever since, we've been mindlessly reciting these words. In junior high and high school, we are required to say the Pledge every day. After so many days of thoughtless repetition--is anyone willing to count the total for me?--no one really knows what they're saying anymore.

      There is no meaning to our words. All we know is that we are told to stand--we do half-heartedly--and told to begin (ready or not). Of course, no one actually takes the Pledge seriously. Either we mumble it under our breath, rolling our eyes and groaning, or we race other students to see who can finish saying it first. There is no true respect for the flag in this. We feel no loyalty to America because we do this by rote every morning.

      Besides, what does it mean to pledge our allegiance to a flag? Is it not a mere piece of fabric? No--It is symbolic of the nation we live in, the nation we have come to love. By pledging our allegiance to the flag, we are stating we will be loyal to the United States of America. But how are we to do that? God says we are to serve him fully, so how do we serve both God and nation? We are not to put the nation in a higher place than God. If legislation was passed to outlaw our faith, we continue, first and foremost, to serve God.

      In serving our nation, serve God. When you vote, vote with your heart which should be reflecting the heart of God. Many people complain about the poor condition of the United States, yet do not vote because they feel their vote wouldn't count. The only way it doesn't count is if the vote was not made in the first place!

      Our pledge to the flag resembles our promise to God. We promise to be devoted followers of Christ. When we first accepted Him into our hearts, we are on fire for Him! We live like we mean it (Think about the kindergarteners who learned the Pledge for the first time--They are arguably some of the most patriotic people in the U.S.). Then, as the promise we made to God becomes more and more drilled into our minds, we lose track of its importance. It becomes a collection of empty, meaningless words. We find "better things to do" than serve God wholeheartedly.

      We stop fighting for what's right, we stop praying on behalf of the needy. We stop talking to God in a genuine way. Then we have the nerve to argue and complain about what is wrong with our lives, yet are still resistant to go to Him for the answers. How lackluster are your prayers? How devoted are you to God? Check your heart. Renew your devotion to God... He's waiting for you to realize you are dependent on Him, and that you need to pledge your allegiance to Him.

Paintings of Jesus

      When I was little, I would kiss Jesus good night. My grandma and I would do the same thing each night I was spending the night at my grandparents' house. I'd sit up in bed with the blankets over my legs. Gram would sit on the edge of the bed, holding a painting of Jesus. This painting is the only image of Jesus I have--whenever I think of Him, I envision the painting Gram kept. It was only the head and shoulders of Jesus, but that's all I needed.
      Every night, we'd sit on the bed, looking at the painting. Then we'd start to sing. It was always "Jesus Loves Me"--complete with hand motions--then sometimes "Jesus Loves the Little Children." Gram and I would pray--hands folded, heads bowed, and eyes squeezed shut. Those were probably the most genuine prayers I ever prayed--from the heart of a child, innocent and eager to love Jesus Christ. After that, I would lean over and give Jesus a peck on the cheek and say "Good night, Jesus." I could almost see Him smile and say "Good night" back to me. Gram would set the picture on the desk next to the bed, tuck me in, and turn off the lights. No need for a night light because Jesus was right there, next to me, watching over me and protecting me.
      What happened to that child-like innocence? Why can't I bring myself to talk to Jesus now like I did back then? Why is it so uncomfortable for me just to whisper prayers in my heart to Him? It makes me feel so sad that I don't have the same eagerness to know Jesus, the willingness and earnestness to try to seek Him. Somewhere along the line, I lost my innocence. Somewhere along the line, something happened that made me be so ashamed of myself I couldn't bear to look at Jesus in the face, let alone talk to Him. Sometimes, I can't even look at my own reflection, to look at myself in the face. But I'm not the only one: It happens to all of us eventually.
      Something happens to everyone when they grow up: The world gets in the way. School, work, social problems, money problems, the list goes on... We become lost in the strife of the world. Our prayers become wish lists. Our prayers become shorter and shorter. Our prayers become later at night, when we're so tired, we fall asleep in the middle of them.
      I truly miss the child-like prayers, the singing, the knowledge Jesus was right there. Above all, I miss the good night kisses. It was probably the most humble, blameless heart speaking directly to Jesus. But now, I find it nearly impossible to connect with Him. I know He's reaching out to me--it's my fault I'm not hearing Him. I know I must remove my stubborness, my pride, in order to hear His voice as loudly as I did as a child. But it's much easier said than done. I feel guilt and shame for my past wrongdoings. I'm a harsher judge on myself than anyone else could ever be. I know with my head that I'm forgiven, but my heart has a harder time accepting that truth.
      I long for the day when I can hold the picture of Jesus again and kiss it good night just one more time. That will be the moment when I know I am secure in the place God wants me to be. In the arms of Jesus.

Muscles

      There are more than six hundred muscles in the human body (up to eight hundred, depending on who you ask). Some muscles are stronger than others, but they all work together to keep the body moving. They are always there--from the time you are born to the time you die. They can be built up with hard work, but their strength can decrease with the lack of use.
      Recall pysical fitness testing in school. A certain number of sit-ups, push-ups, chin-ups, pull-ups, trunk lifts, and all other sorts of exercises were required in order to receive a passing grade. Of course, now experts are saying that sit-ups really are not effective--and still, school's require this to be one of the tests of strength and endurance. The most hated test of all is the mile run, a test of endurance. In high school P.E., we had to run the mile every week to train for the test at the end of each semester. Whenever I see cross country runners at school, I have to wonder what kind of person actually enjoys running (enough so to run long distances every day).
      Faith and spiritual gifts are like our spiritual muscles. They begin weak, but are strengthened over time and with practice. Without use, they can become weak again, or we can forget their strength and never use them to their full potential.
      For a time, I felt insecure in my faith. I felt that I could not be a witness of the Gospel to anyone because I felt so guilty of past wrongs, so doubtful in my faith. If I couldn't even be a proper Christian, who am I to tell someone else they should be? I realized quickly how wrong that is. For one, no human can ever be perfect. If we were perfect, we wouldn't need a Savior (and then we wouldn't need to be preaching to anyone). I felt that my faith wasn't strong enough to be able to defend it--I was fearful that if I began ministering to someone that they would ask me questions I couldn't answer.
      However, lack of faith is not a reason to avoid ministry because ministry builds faith. The more you practice living your faith, the stronger it becomes. Jesus said in Matthew 17:20 "I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." Now imagine if you had an even greater faith than that!
      It is the same with spiritual gifts--once you know which ones you have, start to practice using them. It takes time to develop the sense of how to use them, but as you use them, they will become stronger and stronger. There may be times where you don't use your gifts much, and you can forget how to use them (or forget you had them in the first place!), but the gifts never leave. Just because you don't use your biceps doesn't mean your biceps go away.
      Throughout your life, the strength of these "spiritual muscles" will be tested. And more importantly, the endurance of the muscles will be tested in trials that last over long periods of time (from days, to weeks, to years). I pray that you will build your faith so it will be strong enough not to be shaken, even in the fiercest trials, and that you can learn how to use your spiritual gifts in mighty ways.

Television News

      Before I explain what television news teaches us, I want you to read the following poem by Walt Whitman...

"I Sit and Look Out"
                   --Walt Whitman

I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and
    upon all oppression and shame,
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men at anguish
    with themselves, remorseful after deeds done,
I see in low life the mother misused by her children, dying,
    neglected, gaunt, desperate,
I see the wife misused by her husband, I see the
    treacherous seducer of young women,
I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love
    attempted to be hid, I see the sights on the earth,
I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny, I see
    martyrs and prisoners,
I observe a famine at sea, I observe the sailors casting lots
    who shall be kill'd to preserve the lives of the rest,
I observe the slights and degradations cast by arrogant persons
    upon laborers, the poor, and upon negroes, and the like;
All these--all the meanness and agony without end I
    sitting look out upon,
See, hear, and am silent.

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      Every time you turn on the television, you are bombarded with what is referred to as news. Good news, bad news, breaking news, weather news... The list of types of news goes on. Yet it's mostly all bad or unimportant. Constantly, we hear about murders, rapists, fatal accidents, police chases, uprisings, natural disasters, and other catastrophes. We watch in stunned silence some times, other times we shout out in frustration (mostly after political news reports).
      I recall a time I became overwhelmingly angry at the news. I was tired of hearing about tragedies and exaggerated statistics (we all remember the "Summer of the Sharks" the news talked about... The reporters made it sound like sharks were preying on innocent people when, really, there were no more shark attacks that summer than any other year). I was becoming depressed because I was only hearing about the problems, and not hearing anything that was good about our world.
      Whenever I see a report about a fire that's happening in a faraway place, I can't help but think "Why should I care? What does it have to do with me?" Sometimes, I feel this way even when the news story is about a nearby town. I would always change the channel, feeling a million times worse than before I watched the reports. There was no point for me to watch the reports because the situations were all out of my control, out of my reach.
      The more we watch bad news, the more apathetic we become. I realized that after a couple days of being surrounded by tragedy after tragedy, I didn't care anymore. Joseph Stalin (yes, the Stalin that led the Communist Party of the Soviet Union) once said "The death of one man is a tragedy. The death of millions is a statistic." This is coming from a man who killed off about 20 million people during the 1930s.
      Just like Walt Whitman's poem said, I feel like I sit and watch, and do nothing about it. Our main problem is not complacency, being self-satisfied and unaware of possible danger. Our problem is knowing all the information in the world and doing nothing with or about it. The Bible says in James 4:17 "If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them."
      When I feel like I can do nothing about the world events I watch, I know I can pray. Prayer is the most simple, yet effective way to make a difference. Who knows? Maybe your prayers will lead you to be the change in the world.

Ice Cream

      One of the most well-loved desserts of all time is ice cream. The hardest thing to do, however, is to judge just how much you love it. Whenever you go to an ice cream store (or to the freezer) in order to get yourself some ice cream, it can be difficult to determine the amount you should get. It always seems appealing to get the most ice cream possible, but it's rarely possible to eat it all.
      If you have ever made your own sundae, you know that the temptation to heap on the good stuff is irresistible. For one, think of all that ice cream! It looks good, sounds appetizing, and from past experiences, you know it tastes delightful, so why not get a lot of it? You can never have too much! Then comes the whipped cream. It's called a topping, but it could be a dessert in and of itself. There is no one in America who has not just eaten whipped cream out of the can or ate a bowlful of whipped cream by itself. When putting it on ice cream, the urge to bury the ice cream under inches of whipped cream is uncontrollable. The last couple steps involve splurging in chocolate syrup, caramel, and--of course--the cherry on top. Chocolate is another topping that can cause uncontrollable indulgence.
      We live in a world of instant gratification, and making an ice cream sundae takes too much time to make! Naturally, you sneak tastes of the toppings as you make it. After you are finally done preparing your masterpiece dessert, you begin to devour it expeditiously. About halfway through it, you start to slow down. You ignore your stomach and listen to your taste buds (that sweet tooth still isn't satisfied, but your stomach is starting to get mad). By the time your stomach feels like it is going to burst, your bowl still has a lot of ice cream in it. You realize you have over-indulged, and you have the upset stomach to prove it.
      Sin is very similar to ice cream in this sense. It seems so appealing and draws you to it. Then, after it hooks you and after you indulge in it, you suffer the consequence. Yet, you still return to it time after time to continue the cycle of over-indulgence and negative repercussions.
      A lot of people try diet and exercise regiments to kick bad health habits (like splurging on ice cream). And many times, they fail because the temptation to overeat is too great. How amazing it is we don't have to worry about our temptation being too great for us to handle! 1 Corinthians 10:12-13 says "So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don't fall! No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it."

Railroad Crossings

      The most annoying part about a car trip is having to stop at a railroad crossing, especially when the train is moving exceedingly slow. There is nothing to do. That's why someone, a long time ago, invented the game of "let's-count-how-many-cars-there-are-on-this-train." I don't know about you, but I get dizziness and a bad headache from watching all the cars fly by. I also lose count after about the tenth car, so I always wind up slouching in my seat and groaning until the guard rails go up.
      Tonight, however, was different. My sister and I were on our way home, car windows down and enjoying the wind blowing the hair in our faces. We were making good time--we were tired and anxious to get home--when we saw the red railroad lights flashing and the rails going down. After we stopped, we stared blankly ahead as we waited for the train to go by, hoping it would be a fast, short train. A pick-up truck, also with all of its windows down, pulled up in the lane next to us; it pulled a little farther forward than us, so the back seat of the truck was in line with my sister and I.
      Rarely do I ever pay attention to people in other cars, but tonight was different. It all began when the train first came into view. It moved slower than any other train I have ever seen before in my life. I wouldn't normally complain, but this train was so sluggish I had to voice my thoughts: Are you kidding me?! You can do it... Just a little bit faster! Seriously?! Then I heard voices from the truck next to us--the driver was saying just about the same things I was saying about the speed (or lack of speed) of the train.
      Then I heard a smaller, second voice. I look to my right and I see little fingers gripping the edge of the window. Then, like a tiny gopher popping out of its hole, I see two little eyes peering over at me and disappear two seconds later. Giggling, I poked my sister and nodded towards the truck. We watched as a little boy, about three years old, leaned forward, smiled, and waved at me. Unable to stop myself, I grinned and waved back. And thus began the best time I've ever had at a railroad crossing.
      I don't know how long we were stopped there, but it couldn't possibly have been long enough. The little boy waved until I waved back. He would then excitedly say to the driver, "Daddy, daddy! Look at that pretty lady! She's waving to me!" and keep waving. At some point, he stopped waving, but started rocking back and forth in his seat, in and out of my view. I realized he was playing peek-a-boo, so I covered my eyes with my hands, opened them, and continued the game with my new little friend. He started shrieking in the most adorable voice "Peek-a-boo!" and "I see you!" over and over as he popped in and out of sight. We were both laughing so hard (my sister was getting a kick out of it, too). Every now and then, he would announce to his dad "She's smiling at me!" or "We're playing together!" At one point, he said "I really like her! Can I date her?" I could barely hear him, but I heard the three-year-old's dad say "Isn't she a little too old for you?" At that, the little boy leaned over and simply beamed at me.
      Unfortunately, the train had gotten faster and was coming to an end. My sister pulled forward in anticipation of the green light, just enough to put us in line with the truck's driver. He yelled out his window, nodding at the little boy in the seat behind him, "Thanks for keeping him entertained! That could've been the longest train ever!" Laughing, we drove off in different directions.
      Now I wonder if that little boy does that at all the red lights and railroad crossing he stops at. It's like the game "Sweet and Sour," where you wave to everyone you see (if they wave back, they are sweet, otherwise they are sour). This precious boy could probably turn even the most sour person into a sweet one, according to the rules of the game. It was impossible for me to resist joining his little game. Besides, there was nothing better to do with my time.
      At railroad crossings, what do you do? Are you the person who ignores the other cars around you? Do you count the train cars as they go by? Does the music volume get turned up when you see it's a long freight train you're waiting for? I highly doubt you do what the little boy did, but why not? He made my day, and I maybe made his.
      Smiling is contagious, and it is the simplest way to spread happiness. At times when you have nothing to do, you should question yourself about what would be a good way of filling your time. If you're in the car by yourself at a railroad crossing, spend the time praying or thinking over a Bible verse. Smile at the person in the car next to you, especially if it's a little kid (they will almost always smile or wave back). Next time you are stopped because a train is crawling by, try it out. Take advantage of the extra time on your hands and spread a little happiness.