Hagg Lake Saturday

Memorial Day weekend this year was one for the books. We spent the weekend with some extended family, though by the end of the three days they became good friends. I'll write more about the whole weekend later, but Saturday afternoon pictures couldn't wait. We spent that afternoon about a half an hour from where we were camping, in the canoe, with no agenda. It was a wonderful few hours and though only one fish was caught, and jumped off the hook before it got in the boat, we all left satisfied.

The boats, all piled up on the shore.

Our trusty canoe, resting at the dock.

It was so gorgeous there. And so calm.

The view from the car, canoe loaded on top.

Tristan and Landon, kicking back on the lake.

The warm blanket was a little more appealing than fishing in the cold wind.

If you want more info on Hagg Lake, you can click here for the website.

Without "However"

The whole world sought audience with Solomon to hear the wisdom God had put in his heart... King Solomon, however, loved many foreign women besides Pharoah's daughter - Moabites, Ammonites, Edomites, Sidonians and Hittites. They were from nations about which the Lord had told the Israelites, "You must not intermarry with them, because they will surely turn your hearts after their gods." Nevertheless, Solomon held fast to them in love. He had seven hundred wives of royal birth and three hundred concubines, and his wives led him astray. 1 Kings 10.24 & 11.1-3

Solomon had everything, literally. The power of his rule was wide, the wealth of his kingdom was unmatched, and the wisdom in hi heart was supernaturally bestowed. He had the ear of the entire world, and was vastly respected. And yet there is a 'however' in his story. There is a 'but.' Solomon was led astray by his lust for women and ultimately lost everything. God had given him all that he had wanted, including infinite wisdom, but because he would not let go (literally and figuratively) of these foreign women, he lost it all. He would not let go of the company he was keeping, he wouldn't let go of the unhealthy relationships. God removed his blessing because of Solomon's prostituted heart. Solomon traded communion with an infinite God for earthly pleasure. He traded intimacy with his Creator for immediate gratification. Its a huge tragedy, really...

And yet, isn't this a familiar story? People, on a daily basis, trade God given gifts for fleeting joys. They trade their marriages for quick kicks. They trade the health of their families for more hours on the job to accumulate more stuff. They trade intimacy with the One true God for earthly idols that will only prove false and devoid of lasting substance in the end. And these 'people' are us. These people are me, you, Christians. Its easy to think its a 'secular' problem, but the chasing and lusting and 'intermarrying' with earthly idols transcends ever walk of life and every cultural or social border. The packaging just looks different from person to person.

How do we ever expect to love on other people, to have healthy families and marriages, and to see lives restored if we have such a basic and foundational principal so messed up and out of focus? I heard in a conference recently, "You can only minister out of the overflow of your own life." This is glaringly true, but we have to look with clear eyes and the right perspective to adequately and truthfully evaluate this. Its not only important, its absolutely vital for the world.

Let me not be blinded by my idols any longer.

Let there not be a 'however' written into the story of my life.

Lord, please open my eyes. I don't want to 'hold on in love' to things that You have already called detestable and unacceptable. Forgive me for prostituting my heart and running after things besides You. Thank You for Your grace and love, but please help. I love You and don't want to be the same tomorrow. Grow me. Amen.

Such a Challenge, Such an Honor

At the end of Spring Break I began helping with the youth group at our church. My good friend was already a youth leader and she needed some help with a girls' all-nighter event. I said I would come and hang out, and honestly, had a load of fun. Sure, by 7 a.m. I was exhausted and so thankful to go home and sleep, but I thoroughly enjoyed the conversations, silliness, and fun we all had together. A week later I began helping as a 'youth leader,' a semi-official title that essentially means I get the great joy and challenge of mentoring, loving on, encouraging and offering advice to middle and high school aged students. This isn't brand new territory for me. Until the past couple of years, I had been helping with youth group in some capacity since I was 18 years old. Its offered tons of growth opportunities, tons of challenges and tons of joy. There have been moments of intense frustration, crying out to God that I'm not cut out for whatever was happening in the moment. But there have been moments of amazing celebration, as well, rejoicing with the students as they see the goodness of God demonstrated in their lives. I am not a parent, but it must be something like that: trying to do your best in that places you don't feel equipped or ready for, but also feeling overwhelming pride and joy as you witness success. I am challenged on a weekly basis by questions that are difficult, situations that seem out of control and lives that are too important to overlook. But I am also honored to have these students to pour into, as well. Its a heavy and light sort of thing.

Sisters and Brothers

I wouldn't trade any one of them...

In a Day

In the past day or so a lot has happened. Words have been spoken that have floored me, riveting me to attention, causing me to realize the beauty and pain that life often affords in unrelenting duality.

A patient:

He commented on the stiffness of the ER stretcher. Hitting my biggest pet peeve nerve of my workplace, I casually respond how I normally do: "At least we have stretchers. At least you don't have to sit on a concrete bench while you wait." I proceed to tell him about how in Gulu stretchers are only given to two kinds of patients: those going in for surgery and those who have died, and even then, the stretcher is literally a rolling metal table. No cushion. No hydraulic back release. He agrees, "Someone can always be in a worse situation than you." I ask him if he can stand, he says: "No, I'm a paraplegic. My legs don't work." I casually ask him what happened, as I notice the large scar on his back. He proceeds to tell me how some 40+ years ago he got in a bad car accident with his then wife and two friends. He is the only living survivor, and he has been paralyzed since. In that moment I wanted to take back all I had said about the stretcher. I wanted to reverse the whole last five minutes and not say such ridiculous things to someone who had endured so much. I was reminded that even my best assumptions can be drastically wrong.

My family:

All I can say is that I admire the love I've witnessed, the steadfastness of a wife, and the humility amidst brokenness.

A student:

"I want to adopt because I am adopted." Spoken by a student, while our small group was discussing having children, prompted by the pregnancy of another leader. I held my composure in the moment, thanked her deeply for saying what she had, and sat there stunned by her honesty and frankness in that moment. She is one of five adopted kids in one family. She has two little brothers who are African-American, a sister who is Caucasian, and she looks to be American-Indian. I love the verses in the Bible talking about us being adopted sons and daughters of God, but this student understands that on a level I never would be able to. She's lived it, breathed it and reconciled it. She just taught me more in that sentence than I've gleaned from years of studying. "I want to give hope because I received hope. I want to give love because I am loved. I want to believe in someone because I was believed in." I owe her a thank you.

I'm reminded of the joy and grief of life, the beauty amidst ashes, the life that comes through death.

For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight. In love He predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will -- to the praise of His glorious grace, which He has freely given us in the One He loves. Ephesians 1.4-6

Little E Man

Ezra was born just over a year ago. His birth story was incredible, and you can read about here on my sister-in-laws blog.

Well, this past weekend we had the great pleasure of being invited to his first birthday party. It was so fun, and I love this little boy more than I can express in words. These are a few of the pictures I was able to capture during the party.

Happy 1st birthday Ezra!!

Lean: Rock Climbing

I recently took up rock climbing. Not just bouldering, getting myself to places I can easily descend on my own, but the real rock climbing. Harness on hips, rope on the harness, and go. Sure I'm inside, but I still am climbing a good thirty feet in the air, tall enough to cause some serious harm should I fall back to the floor. I started out all gung-ho, ready to conquer that wall. Then I got to the top of my first climb and an odd sensation overwhelmed me: I was scared. My palms wettened, heart raced and respirations quickened. I knew in my head that the rope attached to me and the person below me on belay would do what they should, but I couldn't shake the fear. Unfortunately, the most efficient way for me to descend from that height was to lean back, rest in my harness and let my body weight and the system lower me back down to solid ground. At that moment it was the last thing I wanted to do. But I had to. Gingerly I sat back, the system worked and I'm still unbroken.

Now I'd like to say my fear was conquered and now I climb without any anxiety at all. That's not the case. In fact, after every route I still get a little freaked and have to choose to exercise that faith that tells me that I did my eight knot right, the equipment will work, and the person belaying me will do their job right. As I lean back on the rope and vulnerably put all my weight on it, I am believing it will do what it was meant to do.

I feel the same way with God. Life is like learning to rock climb, I start out all stoked until I get to a point where I can't go anywhere more on my own strength. I've reached the top of the route and now must descent in order to go again. And that faith part freaks me out a bit. The faith it takes to lean all my weight (dreams, thoughts, ideas, life, etc) on God and trust that He'll let me down easy, doing what He's already said He would. Thankfully He's not offended that I get worried. Thankfully He realizes my fear, encourages me, and is faithful to let the descent be pleasant. Falling back and resting completely on God is not always the rush we thought it'd be, nor is it always completely comfortable, but it's sure, and He is always constant. And with each time, my faith is strengthened and I trust Him more.

You're Not Alone, Japan

I frequently browse the NY Times when I am bored, whether at work, home or just whenever I have a spare moment. I'd like to say I 'read' it, but I'll be honest, I mostly browse the headlines, deciding whether or not anything seems interesting. Today this headline did manage to catch my attention:

Japanese City’s Cry Resonates Around the World

Mayor Katsunobu Sakurai issued a plea on YouTube for the world to help his city. He was not prepared for the response.

I guess it was the part about this mayor posting something on YouTube that caught my eye, but as I read through the story, I was blown away. In desperation this mayor of a 75,000 resident town in Japan that has the 'triple threat' of disasters as it's reality posted a video on an internet site, hoping that it might make a difference. As he is quoted in the article, he was at the end of his rope, and figured why not. The response was overwhelming: aid groups, individuals and NGO's bringing food and other supplies in a matter of days.

But my favorite part is this quote:

“Suddenly, the world was extending its hand to us,” said Mr. Sakurai, 55, an energetic man who still wears the same beige uniform as in the video, but now smiles and seems more relaxed. “We learned we’re not alone.”

Isn't that what we all want? Whether we are in a crisis or just going through our day to day, in the core of who we are, I believe we want to know we're not alone. We are seen. We are cherished and worth it. I am so glad and thankful for the response that occured after this mayor's plea. I am so happy that the people left in the city of Minamisoma know that the rest of the world is thinking of them, praying for them, and wants to see their lives restored.

If you have a chance, read the article. Its a good one.

If it Stays

"The paradox... and are you okay if the ache doesn't go away?"

A simple question from a trusted friend, whom happens to be my sister. We were talking about traveling, how I long for it, desire to board an airplane and cross oceans to explore new places. I admitted I didn't know how it would happen anytime soon. I couldn't see it on the horizon, and that was upsetting. And yet realizing there are beautiful and meaningful things right here where I am, as well. I admitted I didn't know how to reconcile my longing and my reality, supposing it is an answer that must come from Someone more than myself, but right now it just hurts. And then this question. What if it stays? What if the ache doesn't go away, doesn't get 'figured out'? I admitted: I don't know. But I also believe that I don't want it to go away, either.

When I was a young child I remember telling my mother that I wished I didn't have nerves, because then I wouldn't feel the pain of falling off my bike. I had probably just taken a spill, head over handle bars, and was dealing with a scraped forehead and bloodied knees. In the moment I probably was hurting pretty bad. But in her wisdom she explained how important those little pain sensations were. If I didn't have them, I could possibly have a huge injury and know nothing of it. After working in health care for a few years, I am grateful that my nerves feel pain. I have encountered many patients who, for whatever reason, have neuropathy. I always want to break things down, and when I break down that word, it is a combination of:

neuro: A prefix meaning nerve

-pathy: A suffix derived from the Greek "pathos" meaning "suffering or disease" that serves as a suffix in many terms, sympathy (literally, suffering together)

It is a condition of suffering of the nerves. But the word almost makes me think of the word 'apathy,' so basically, not caring. Numb. Desensitized. Paralyzed. Anesthetized. It sure would relieve the pain to have this condition, but there would be no feeling at all. No pain, but also no pleasure. Nothing. Void. This is no way to exist.

When I think about the frustrations I experience in relation to this, I realize I would much rather feel pain than feel nothing. I would much rather endure the painful longing, than not have a reason for it to exist at all. Sometimes I fool myself into thinking for a second that if I didn't care, if I hadn't seen, if I didn't know, it'd all be easier or better. This is a fleeting thought, though, and in the deepest part of who I am, I do not believe that to be true. Because when I do care/see/realize/feel/experience, then I know I am alive, that I am living. I have decided I am okay if that ache remains...

Zebra Sweatshirt

She sat across from me with bright pink hair, a small smile and a zebra print sweatshirt slightly peaking out from under her black leather jacket. She looked much different than the seventh grader I remembered, but as our conversation pranced from one subject to the next, heavy and light, serious and comical, I began to see her emerge. The exterior that might have caused untrue assumptions was just that, the exterior. Not too deep below that surface was an intriguing, passionate, opinionated young woman, strong in her own right, wise beyond the years she'd lived through. She reminded me of myself, who I sometimes long to be. Unafraid and uninhibited, though convicted and stalwart also. She also reminded me of what I'm passionate about. What I'm inspired by. What I have felt I've somewhat lost. That is to say, she reminded me that I love young women just like herself and pray that they succeed. That the deep dreams embedded in their hearts would be realized, never shot down. And that they would grow and learn and thrive into the magnificent beings God has intended them to be.