yum

I am sitting in my new apartment. With a new mug. And a new coffee table. And a new bookshelf/tv stand. And a new (but secondhand) dresser. And new used (but handily redone with my friend, Spiffy Spraypaint) bar stools. And a jumble of previously owned items.

I lived in a reasonably small room for four years, and suddenly, I have three times that space. And that includes the space in the refrigerator because it's just me and I don't always know what to cook beyond peanut butter sandwiches, mac and cheese and turkey sandwiches. And I have to admit, the mac n cheese tasted a little off because I usually don't make it, so I forgot the butter, and didn't have salt. Bummer.

So since my spacious apartment has empty space, I took a little trip to Goodwill. Amazing. Mini mugs. Then I went on my merry way, looking for a consignment store. I didn't find it. However, do not be disappointed for me, my friend, because I still found a jewel. A pho restaurant. I pulled off to get my GPS and found, instead, Pho Nam. If you've never had pho, consider it recommended.

I'm not sure if it was the build up of hunger since I hadn't eaten since lunch and was famished, or if it was just the innate goodness of this pho. The broth was flavorful and the noodles were perfectly Q (good noodle chewy consistency) and the meat was tender and the bean sprouts? They were delightfully fresh and crisp. In a word? Delicious. Yum. Taste explosion (ok, I know that was two words).

Hungry? All that is left of this pho is the bowl. I drained it. We'll just have to get some more together :)

Good

He Is Risen!

Good Friday wouldn't be good if Jesus hadn't risen from the dead. Someone said that to me the other day, and it's true. If Jesus hadn't risen from the dead, everything he said would have been a lie and we would still be as stuck in our sin as we were from day one after the Fall.

I was driving down a country road the other day and listening to radio when I was suddenly crying. I was listening to K-love and the host was asking for call-ins from parents about how they explained Easter to their children. One woman called and was talking about her conversation with her 10-yr-old daughter. I don't remember her explanation for how the conversation came about, just her explanation of what God did on that cross. She asked her daughter (and I'm paraphrasing slightly), "Can you remember the worst thing you've ever done? And how bad and how heavy you felt about it? And you've just been here ten years; there are murderers and criminals out there who have hurt kids. Well Jesus took the heaviness and guilt and shame for everyone so that you don't have to because he loves you." She went on to describe how her daughter broke out crying. She got it. Joy. Thankfulness.

I don't know about you, but I wrestle with shame and guilt. I know that heaviness very well. To be reminded of my freedom so unexpectedly, yet at such a perfect moment brought me to tears. Sometimes it takes a succinct, simple explanation to reach through the busy-ness and self-absorbedness of my mind.

Switching gears, there's something else I want to share with you. I've been catching up on reading this weekend for various classes, and one book that's had me absolutely engrossed is Picking Cotton. It is the story of a violent rape, a wrongful conviction and an amazing story of forgiveness and redemption. I highly recommend it. It's a true story written by two people brought together by an act of evil, yet, by God's grace, this was used for incredible good. A woman was raped, and she identified an innocent man. After 10 years of imprisonment, DNA evidence set him free. Two years later they met. He forgave her, which allowed her to forgive herself and the man who actually committed the crime. They became good friends. This is incredible to me. It goes against all of this world's sense. As one who has wrestled with forgiveness and thought about it a lot, this little bit resonated with me. Let me share it with you:

"Forgiveness is tricky. People think when you forgive someone, you excuse what he did. That's not what it is. It's about power and letting go...If Ronald (the man wrongfully convicted) had forgiven me (the victim who accused him) so gracefully, so completely, could I forgive the man who had hurt us both?" (page 252 for those interested)

I agree. Forgiveness doesn't mean everything is as it was. The past doesn't disappear. But we move forward from it. And God forges something stronger, more beautiful than imaginable. So on this Easter weekend, I praise God for being God. For being Unchangeable, Unshakeable, Forever I Am. For being bigger than my sin and yours. For forgiving me more than anyone could ever wrong me. For victory over death, darkness. For not leaving you and me in a pit of loneliness, shame, guilt and heaviness. For being a God of Love. Of Creativity; who else would have designed something beautiful such as a flower to thrive in what we would call refuse, waste or manure?

Happy Resurrection Day, everyone.

bubbles

Today, I was part of a team that discussed the leaders that would be stepping into position after we graduated. I have to admit that I have mixed feelings about it.

As I was reading through applications, there were some that were very convicting to me. Some of the applicants expressed hurt or disappointment or general dissatisfaction in areas that I had leadership roles. In a way, I felt that I had failed them. I was sad that they had the bad experience, and I wished that I had known about it so that I could have done something to change the situation. On the other hand, I was never approached with the dissatisfaction. I could have been more consistent in checking in with the people under my purview, but I wasn't.

I suppose after thinking about it, after feeling convicted and guilty, I was thankful. Thankful that there are people who are not settling, who see something that they are discontent with and have a desire to change.

Having had this particular position of leadership for almost a year and a half, I've become very attached and certainly very invested. The things that I desire for this fellowship, I would love to see to fruition. Things that I've started, I would love to see blossom and grow. Then I realized, it's not about me. Yes, there is that part of me that likes to finish what I started. Maybe I wasn't completely being selfish and wanting glory for myself. But I'm pretty sure the Spirit spoke in my ear, reminding me that in the end, my dreams for this fellowship are not as great as His. He reminded me that this was also not about me. That in allowing new people to take the lead, to step into roles that He has designed for them, He is demonstrating His Sovereignty. He reminded me that although I am graduating and leaving, He is most definitely still at work.

photocred:http://vator.tv/news/2011-03-18-new-rules-for
-the-new-internet-bubble

That thought just creates bubbles of joy within me, welling up throughout my being. While a part of me doesn't want to let it go, I have to let others have a chance. I know they will have ideas that are bigger and better than mine. With God's guidance, I have laid a couple stones. They will lay more. Praise the Lord that it does not depend on me. Praise the Lord that no matter if I am there to witness it, His will WILL be done. He will sustain this chapter, He will cultivate and grow it. He is the source, and there is no other.

stronghold

This past week, I was involved in a mission trip. Towards the end of the week, a couple of us were working on the church grounds, weeding and throwing some anti-fire ant...powder stuff. I've never weeded before this past weekend-- growing up we never had a yard, we always lived in apartments. As this was a new experience for me, I didn't quite have a skilled hand at pulling out weeds and fell on my tush a couple of times. Guess it comes with the territory.

After we had finished the section, we walked the perimeter of the building, throwing anti-fire ant stuff that resembles cornmeal (you can tell I was getting hungry at this point). We threw it near the building and around pathways so that anthills wouldn't be formed and people would be safe from the barrage of fireants attacking exposed toes and unsuspecting heels. As I was tossing this powder and watching the wind take it further than I had tossed it, I had this mental image of an invisible wall being erected to protect against the devastation a fire ant colony could wreak. Then I was struck by the imagery and it's relevance to the Holy Spirit and prayer. I've never dedicated a plot of land or really gone on a specific prayer walk, but the physical act of tossing this powder, seeing it fall, knowing that it was working though it wouldn't be seen, gave me this beautiful image of what the Spirit does. I had this mental image where as a prayer is prayed, this impenetrable, glistening, glowing stronghold shoots up. Yet it's target is specific. It's the ultimate defense. Just like you and I and the neighbor's dog Scout can walk over and on this anti-fire ant powder and not be harmed, so too can we pass around and through uninhibited by the Stronghold. It does, however, act on fire ants and other agents of the Enemy's schemes. 

Also, the powder doesn't affect the plants that are already there. So flowers and shrubs and trees can continue growing. Which is why we weeded first--take out that which threatens the plants by competing for nutrients and ultimately killing the plants that were planted.  This I think can be metaphorical to the work of the Spirit in the process of purification. Rooting out the dangerous, harmful stuff. 

Anyway, these were just a few of my thoughts through the week. Hopefully as I process them some more, they will be more cohesive and meaningful.

I'll leave you with an image of some of the beautiful landscaping at the church, evidence of the arrival of spring.