The Painted Isaiah

The little kids do a special project at Home Depot now and then, and these are the pictures from the last one.  The project was a wooden snowman that they got to paint--can you tell? 

Christmas

Today is Christmas. I am sitting here in a warm house, with my grandparents, parents, sisters, and brothers standing around, joking and talking with one another.  My dad is cleaning pans from breakfast, and the boys are playing with battery-operated cars they found in their stockings.  The dog is successfully (for the most part) dodging the little missiles, one eye on the cars and the other shut as she tries to get in her mid-morning nap.  If you sat down and looked around, it would look like a peaceful day in the life of our family.  But if you got up and started talking among the children, you would find out more.  They are joyful in the celebration of Jesus, excited at the remembrance of His birth.  They know that this is more than a fun day off school with new toys to play with and grandparents to visit—it's one of the most important days of the year.  Christ the savior was born today—is there anything more that matters?  Is there any birth that was special enough to compete with the joy and love that came in that small package one Christmas day thousands of years ago?  Never!
Today is Christmas.  We celebrate with joy.  I pray that you and your family have a merry one, filled with new memories and the remembrance of old ones.

To be Home

It's snowing outside, and the weather forecast says to expect 2-6 inches tonight.

Upstairs, Isaiah's sobbing because he's so incredibly exhausted from his day of outdoor play, and the rest of the family is going about their usual routines to get ready for bed.  Lily, our 9-year-old German shorthair, is almost asleep at my feet, covered in a blanket because she was cold.  My cat is on the other side of the room, in the kitchen, eating her dinner.  It's quiet, except for the faint sounds of Isaiah's worn out voice.  And as I look outside at the Christmas lights on our back deck—the blue ones faded to white because the sun bleached them—I feel a certain peace.  It's the feeling of hope, life, and love.  The feeling of Christmas.  And suddenly, I am overjoyed to live in this house, with these people.  To live in the knowledge that I am loved and that I have people to love.  To be home.

Samwise the brave

The Lord of the Rings movies are some of my very favorites.  The prospect of a different world (or one in a fictitious history!) similar to our own, with the exception of technology, has always interested me greatly.  Sometimes I wish that I could live in such a world myself—I definitely wouldn't mind being an elf, or a hobbit.  One thing that's always caught my attention has been Samwise's devotion to Frodo.  I love the way that he follows Frodo, not because he was affected by the ring, but because he could see how the ring was affecting Frodo.  It makes me wonder what type of devotion can spur such love and affection for another person, whether you were his servant or not.  In this day and age, devotion seems to be an unknown word.  Genuine devotion for your friends and family has been forgotten, left on the wayside among the graves of other like virtues—caring for others, giving encouragement, finding joy. Even devotion to your spouse seems like an unknown subject.  Divorce has raged rampant over our country, even though your husband or wife should be one of the people you show the most devotion to.  Teenage rebellion was at one time unheard of—as was the very term "teenagers"—and now it has become a raging firestorm of hurt on the parents' side as well as the teenagers' side, scarring both with wounds not easily healed.  Devotion no longer has a part in the relationship of a teen and his or her parents. 
It makes me wonder what our world would be like if we all showed the type of devotion to our friends and family that Sam did for Frodo.  If we could try it for a day, really care for one another instead of "be there for them" (unless they really need you!), what would happen?  What would the outcome be, and how many lives will you change?


You never know until you try.

Grown-Up Christmas List--Amy Grant

This is a classic Christmas song, if you ask me!

Life: in the Abnormal

Is caring about the needy abnormal?

No, seriously.  Is caring for the people who need us abnormal, in this modern, fast-paced world that we've all been pushed into—though, admittedly, at our own will.  Has being concerned for other people been put so low on our list that we prefer not to be bothered by them?  When I bring up this subject, I get the "usual"—homeless people are simply looking for free handouts, for money to buy their drugs, or that slaves aren't the norm for our society, that there simply can't be enough of them to make any real difference.  But let me assure you, there are enough needy people—homeless, widows, orphans, impoverished, that it makes a difference, to do even one act of kindness.  When you really open your eyes to the world's needs, you don't merely see people walking their dog down the street, or a group of teenagers hanging out in the mall.  You see needy people, destitute people, mourning people, hurting people... people who need the message of hope and love and true life that you own.  So caring for the needy in our society seems to be pretty strange, but caring for the un-needy?  Even stranger! 

So what do we do about our lack of caring, our lack of true, untainted love?  We drive carelessly past a homeless man on the street, and within minutes forget about him altogether—if we really saw him at all.  We get magazines about "giving a gift that can change a life," and instead of checking out the website and spending a few of our preciously wasted minutes looking at how to buy a cow for a family in Africa, the magazine ends up in the trash can.  Yes, we changed a life.  We added to the huge feeling of hopelessness that some kid who's dying of hunger is facing.  It's not exactly the type of change we want to make, is it?

And yet, this is the "season of giving."  If not now, why not never?  Look around you right now.  More than likely, you are surrounded by many material things, good things, comfortable things.  Things that may have cost you a lot of money, but you really don't need them to survive.  And yet, with all this... this stuff, we can't save the life of an impoverished child.  We can't support a ministry that's trying to bring kids out of slavery.  We can't even give a couple dollars and five minutes to get a burger for the guy standing on the corner, holding a cardboard sign.  So I ask again:

Is caring about the needy abnormal?

These are a couple of my Bubba (Isaiah) pictures, rather grainy due to the lighting, but cute none the less.

Kutless' This is Christmas

A beautiful song, This is Christmas, by Kutless:

The Purging of Dross

Seemingly unaffected by her anguish, the dragon continued. “Now for another question.” As the sizzle and stench of her burning flesh permeated the room, he turned on his lasers and focused the beams on her eyes. “You say that you now know why you must be set aflame.” He paused for a moment as if to let his words add to her suffering. “Why?” “I … I …”She couldn’t speak. The flames climbed to her waist and slowly crawled up her back, onto her wings, and up to her chest. Heaving, gasping, panting, she tried to force out an answer, but the words wouldn’t come. Were they even in her mind? Did she really not know after all?
“Bonnie Silver!” Abaddon shouted.  His call echoed throughout the chamber, repeating again and again. “Why must you be set aflame?”
Even as he finished his question, her name continued to echo.  Bonnie Silver … Bonnie Silver.
She spat out her words, each one a torture. “My … my name … is Silver. All dross … is purged… and my body … is a living … illustration.”
“But you must have some dross remaining. Hidden lies in secret places?” His eyebeams brightened. “Envy? Lust? Or do you seriously want me to believe this notion that the dross is already gone? Is your mask one of pride after all?”
“No!” she screamed. “Not a mask. … God purged … my dross … long ago."

This quote from one of my favorite books, The Bones of Makaidos, by Bryan Davis.  The passage above illustrates to a great extent the life that we live in Christ if we are believers.  So often the devil comes back to me, whispering doubts about how I wasn't forgiven, how my sin still remains.

They are lies.

Once God forgives us, we become new people.  The dross we once were—impurities covering the silver of God's creations—gets burned away, killing the person we once were and giving us a new life.  Through the purging of our dross, we are left "blameless and pure, children of God without fault" (Philippians 2:15).  Not only is the sin washed away, but our lives take on a new direction.  Though the temptations of this life still pull us to the wayside on occasion, they cannot overcome us. 

This is why the passage is such a wonderful example of our lives as Christ-followers. Our old bodies died with His when He lay lifeless on the cross, and our new ones rose with Him three days later.  Jesus took all the wrath of our sin, the destructive seeds that we sowed, and killed it, along with the people who sowed the seeds.  Those people were you and me.  We were purged of the dross we once carried like burdens, dragging us down into mud of our own making.  And now it is no longer us who live, but Christ in us (Galatians 2:20).

And I rejoice in that fact, in that simple, childlike solution that paid so incredibly dearly.  With the words, "it is finished" (John 19:30), it was finished.  Death died.  Life sprang up from the dry ground, and filled our hearts with something new, something clean.  Jesus became our life, and death no longer has hold.  And with Bonnie Silver in that passage I can say, "It's not a mask.  God purged my dross long ago."

Of Chaos and Peace

Now and then I come to a point when I'm so busy that I don't get time to write for my blog, let alone the half dozen books I'm working on, my journal, and the many people I write letters to.  I love to write.  It's that simple.  But this is the first time this week that I've had a chance to sit down and write up a post that really reflects what I've been thinking lately. 

We started school this week, tackling the Geometry, Writing, and Spanish books like they're the worst challenge we'll ever face.  As I sit here, with a cup of green tea in front of me and the impending notion that I really need to work on my Spanish course, I'm beginning to find an old truth, and make it into a new one. 

The truth is this simple: everything will be done in its proper time.  Life will go on whether I do my Spanish lesson today or get in two tomorrow instead.  And sometimes other things are more important than a Spanish lesson or math homework.  This truth has been widely spread since the book of Ecclesiastes was written, but the modern world seems to have forgotten it in the meaningless busyness and bustle of our daily schedules. 

Moving back to a big city, I've noticed once again the hectic lifestyle modern American people live.  We need to go, go, go, and do, do, do.  Nothing can satisfy our desires better than to see the products of our efforts.  We need to continuously surpass each other in our accomplishments, and put ourselves as high up in the "caste system" as we can before we die.  But in reality, that's not what life's about. 

Life is about living.  To the best of your ability.  Not to become the most influential American of all times, or a well-known and famous inventor, or the millionaire of the century.  Our job here on earth is to live up to God's standards—to use our time wisely.  Not to build ourselves up, but to encourage and strengthen others in the faith.  And if the Spanish book waits a day in order to fulfill that job, the world is not going to end.

So many times we get caught up in the wiles of the world, sure that we need to "go above and beyond" and become the "top man," when all that we really need to do is live our lives to the fullest extent that God wants us to live our lives to.  To become the best is the world's way, and we are called to be a light to the world, not to become part of it.  This doesn't mean that you need to stop working hard, or quit trying to become good at something.  It just means that your top priority should not be to "look good" in the world's eyes.  Being the best and brightest, the top in your particular field, isn't always the adventure that the Lord is choosing to send you on.  Sometimes we simply need to live slowly, quietly, so we can impart peace in the chaos of this world. 

And that's the truth I relearned today.

All I want for Christmas

This week's Christmas tune!

Hate and Humility, part 2

Continued from part 1.

I want to repeat the last verses we went over in part 1, so you can read this separately.  Please do read over part 1, even though I'm back tracking a bit here.  It will help the both posts make a little more sense.

"So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?"

It's making me think that Paul's not quite as level and dependable as I grew up believing.  Suddenly, he seems as vulnerable to sin as the rest of us.  It makes me amazed, however, what he says in the next verse.

 "Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!"

Thanks?  God?  Deliverance?  Paul looks not to a mere mortal to save him from his sin; he looks to God.  God and his deliverance, which comes through the Lord Jesus Christ, is what saves us from sin, even after we accept Christ as our Lord. As Christians, we view Paul as a role model; a fellow Christ-follower who led a great amount of people to the Lord.  In fact, through his writings, he's still leading people to faith!  But the best part about this passage is the vital reminder that even Paul, a good Christian who led many hundreds to Christ over the last almost two thousand years, wasn't perfect.  He struggled with sin with the best of us; at times, it got the better of him.  But the important message in this passage lies within the last verse:

"So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in my sinful nature a slave to the law of sin."

Don't beat yourself up about sinning, but don't try to sin.  You are a slave to God in the same way that your sinful nature is a slave to sin, and God wrestled sin to the ground when Christ rose from the dead, a victor over hell.  Over sin.  Over eternity.  Christ gave us a second chance, a chance to forget our sin nature and its temptations and follow him.  The only question on the table is this: are we able to accept the gift, and completely live for Him?

Hate and Humility, part 1

I'm going to be completely honest with you for a few minutes.

I hate myself.

Not just in a cliché, "it's the Christian thing to do" type of way, but in the actual, "I'm a despicable person" type of way.  I lie.  I cheat.  I steal.  I idolize.  I do so many "wrong things," at times I think I'm beginning to compose a dictionary of antonym actions for the Ten Commandments.  It's not like I try to do wrong things; I don't awake in the morning, sit straight up in bed, and suddenly yell, "I want to be bad today!"  No, sin is an action that's much quieter, stealthily creeping up on you when you least expect it.  I was reading in Romans the other day, and stumbled upon a set of verses (chapter 7:14-25) that describe what I'm talking about to a T. 

"We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin.  I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.  "

Paul seems to be going through the same phase I am here; he's unspiritual, a slave to sin.  He doesn't understand why he sins, and doesn't necessarily want to sin, but it happens anyway.  This next passage makes a bit more sense, and helped me to understand how this "living in sin but not knowing it" thing came to be.

"And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature.   For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.   For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it."

That passage was a bit longer, but I want you to read it anyway, and slowly.  It makes sense after reading that passage why I do sin when I don't want to.  It's not me sinning.  It's my sinful nature.  Now, we can't give up that easily though—we can't just say, "oh, it's my sinful nature, not me doing the sin, so it's not my problem."  We need to battle the sin.  As a servant of the Most High, I don't want to botch my job and become a servant of my sinful nature (by letting it do whatever it wants) instead of God.  But how do I do that?  Paul is asking himself the same question here in this next passage:

"So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?"

Continued in part 2.

Pictures in the Park

One wonderful thing about living in Colorado is the scenery.   We went to Palmer Park a while ago and were taken by surprise at all the beauty just waiting to be seen.  God's glory was simply all around us!  As always, I didn't leave the house without my camera, so I wanted to share some of that beauty with you!

(Samuel (4) was very excited to see these—he's wanted to see cactuses since we moved, and he finally got his chance!)

I saved the best for last.  This was my mom's favorite picture.  I must admit, it's one of mine, too.

Mr. Snow Miser!

This is the best version of "Snow Miser" I've heard yet!

Rapturous Rose

Rose is the sibling closest to me in age.  She shares my love for Martial Arts, books, and writing, and makes my head hurt with her goings on about chess, quantum theories, and all things math and science.

Sherlock Holmes is her favorite book character—she constantly talks about him.  I was sort of turned off by the Banded Snake story and forsook any further readings in his exploits.  She, on the other hand, has continued reading and one day hopes to solve mysteries as well.  (If anyone could, she could!)

Rose and I have always had a good times reading and imagining about fairy worlds—everything from Middle Earth, to Narnia, to the Arcadians and beyond.  Sometimes, we used to dress up and play the parts... the crown of royalty becomes her.

As fun-loving as she is, she never forgets to make time for the things in life that really matter—she always has time to talk about a Sunday sermon or talk about a Bible passage.  She knows more about Old Testament trivia than anyone I know!  This is a picture of her at a park near our house.  She loves music—especially classical—and plays violin, a little piano, and has a beautiful voice.

We have played together for as long as either of us can remember—we have had many adventures, both real and made-up, together.  As we've grown up, though, our interests have differed—she likes Sherlock Holmes and chess, and I like Mary Slessor and making meals.  Even though we're different, we are still best friends.

The Strategy of Life

My sister (Rose) and my dad love to play chess together.  I try to play with them—when they're at a stalemate, I ask them to simply surrender to me.  But they're both of the mind that chess is a two person game, not a three person game.  A couple days ago when I was watching one of their games, I suddenly thought of something that was pretty cool.  I guess you can decide for yourself if you think it is or not.  My thought was this:  our lives are a game of chess.  Have I lost you yet?

You see, when I play a game of chess with either my dad or my sister, I inevitably lose.  It's not an understatement—I think that I've won two games in the last six or seven years.  It helps that I got tired of the game a couple years ago and haven't played much since, but the real reason is this:  I have no strategy.  At all.  And as my sister constantly telling me, chess is a game of strategy.  Which basically means that with no strategy, you don't stand a chance against my dad or my sister, both of which have a real gift for good strategy, as well as for winning.  Without strategy, chess becomes a long game of sadness.  Slowly, methodically, my pieces die.  And Rose's win.  And somehow, by the time I manage to capture one pawn, she has my king in checkmate.  See why I don't play chess? 

The game of life is like the game of chess.  Without strategy, without being able to see ahead and plan for what you deduct is going to happen, the game of life becomes a slow game of killing off your thoughts, hopes, dreams, and wishes until you lie bare and unprotected, and die alone, without the lowliest pawn to protect you.  But it doesn’t have to be like that. 

If I played chess with my dad "on my team" (aka, telling me what to do and where to put my pieces), I would play a lot differently.  I would win, or at least give Rose a challenging game.  But by myself, I'm not a good chess player.  I lack the strategy I need to play a good game.  It's the same in life—by ourselves, we'll lose.  But with God—the One who has the strategy—we will win.  The strategy God tells us is simple to understand, though hard to accept.  We need to admit that we are sinners, that we are people who don't do the right things in every circumstance.  God does.  And He can't associate with people who are the exact opposite of what and who he is; it's impossible for him to have a relationship with a person who hates Him.  And any sinner is someone who hates God, whether he knows it or not.  Because we are sinners, we are condemned to death.  It's the only righteous punishment for our sins; we can't win the game on our own, we lack the strategy to win.  That's why Jesus came.  He died for you, gave himself, a righteous being, up to Death for you, because He loved you so much.  Because He is the strategy, and therefore knows and understands the strategy, He was able to rise again.  He had beaten Death and won the game.  He knows all the devil's moves by heart, and he can navigate your way through the game of life for you.  All you need to do is ask Him.  Tell Him that you want to accept His gift of life, and that you want to give Him your game.  He can win it for you, but first, you need to ask Him.  He's waiting.  The devil's winning.  What will you do?

Iowa Pictures

Now that Iowa is behind me, and the mountains in front, I thought it would be good to browse through the many pictures of the plains and hills.  These are some of my favorite pictures of the beautiful landscape of Eastern Iowa. 

Christmas Music!

Thanksgiving is over and Christmas is in 4 weeks, so I am now announcing (drumroll please) Christmas music!  My favorite radio station, Air1, is now playing it, so I am as well!To kick things off, here's my favorite Christmas song of all time:

Seventeen

Today is my seventeenth birthday, and I was going to use today's post to write down my hopes and goals for the coming year.  When my fingers hit the keyboard, instead of hopes and goals, this is what came out.  I want to share it with you.

Dearest Jehovah,

Thank You for the adventures You have led me on, the growth that You have prepared for me.   I have passed through both the flames of Satan and the sun of the pleasant fields of beauty You have created with me in mind.  I have fallen from Your grasp of my own accord, left Your embrace for a life of my own, thinking foolishly that it would give me the freedom I wanted, the freedom I thought I deserved.  But time and time again, no matter how far I, in my inability and weakness, have fallen, You are always there to catch me, to hold me tight, and to love me the way that no one else could ever love me.  Though I am but a slave, a worthless waif, You guide me into the paths that the Prince once walked, the paths that I now walk in His name.  You have made me Your princess, loved me as Your daughter, and let me call You my Abba, my Father.  You have become the One I live for, and with my every move I pray that I may achieve my desire to become closer to You and learn more of Your ways. You are my life, for my own has died.  You are my mind, for my own has perished.  You are my heart, for my own has broken.  You are my spirit, for without You I would not have one.  You are my Father, my Brother, my Love.  I live for You, and one day I shall die for You.  Thank You for rescuing me and loving me as Your own, for taking me from the sinister paths of the Evil One and giving me a new direction in which to travel. You are my All-in-All, my Alpha and my Omega, my Beginning and my End.  You hear the cry of my very soul when I am in anguish and You come to my rescue, forgetting the reason that I became hurt, forgiving the fact that I have time and time again turned my back to You.  In this next year, let my life be lived with the sole purpose of giving my all to You.  I cannot leave Your presence, or flee from Your Spirit. You are always here with me, to comfort and protect me. And I love You, Yeshua.  I love You, my Lord, my Protector, my Provider. 

Love,

Grace

When is the Real Thanksgiving?

Here we are, the day after Thanksgiving.  This morning some of you most likely got up at 3 AM to storm the doors of shops and freeze to death in the cold November air.   Others most likely slept until nine o'clock, glad to finally have sleep-in day after weeks of work with no breaks and yesterday's confrontation with the relatives.  Maybe today is your housecleaning day—the Friday after Thanksgiving has been officially your "fall cleaning" day ever since the first grandchild was born.

But in all of your business, your everyday lives, will you remember to give thanks?  The Pilgrims actually celebrated Thanksgiving for three days, and I think that the whole "give thanks" thing was pretty well remembered afterward.  But for us, it's a reason to get together with friends, watch TV, and eat a huge meal that leaves everyone sitting around complaining about how tired they are afterward.  Where have we put God in all this "giving thanks"?  My plea is that we will remember Thanksgiving not just one day, two days, or three days out of the year—but all year.  During the hard times and the easy times, when you feel like disappearing into a book and when you feel like shouting for joy in the middle of the mall.  So give thanks through it all, and make every day Thanksgiving.

100 Things I'm Thankful For

      1.       A Lord who loves me

2.       A father and mother who take care of me

3.       The sun

4.       My cat

5.       My dog

6.       Being able to cry

7.       Being able to laugh

8.       Love

9.       Life

10.   Books

11.   The Bible

12.   School (yes, even algebra and geometry...)

13.   Paper

14.   Pens

15.   Smiles

16.   The smell of a new baby

17.   The smell of a clean dog

18.   Music

19.   Joy

20.   Faith

21.   My journal

22.   Missions

23.   Orphans laughing

24.   Slaves set free

25.   Food

26.   The knowledge of how to prepare that food

27.   Blessings

28.   Prayer

29.   Poetry

30.   Imperfect people

31.   A perfect God

32.   Salvation

33.   Sacrifice

34.   Homemade bread

35.   buying yeast from a Mennonite store

36.   corn swaying in the wind

37.   the color of soy beans at harvest

38.   crinkly leaves

39.   the smell of rain

40.   the sound of thunder

41.   a whispering tree

42.   mountains

43.   baby calves with big brown  eyes

44.   homemade yogurt

45.   raw milk

46.   little children

47.   younger siblings

48.   the colors of a rainbow

49.   the eyes of a person with hope

50.   tears of happiness

51.   picking blueberries

52.   cooking garden-fresh pumpkins

53.   weeding a garden

54.   canning apple butter

55.   the smell of my mom's favorite candle

56.   friends I can trust

57.   letters

58.   patience

59.   petals of a dried rose

60.   hard times of testing

61.   good times of growth

62.   our Compassion children

63.   watching movies late at night

64.   reading my Bible in the quiet of morning

65.   the sunrise

66.   the sunset

67.   my favorite crocheting needle

68.   a bed

69.   being close with my siblings

70.   that the church isn't a building

71.   forgiveness

72.   windows that I can see through

73.   those days when you wake up and the world is perfect

74.   being able to serve people

75.   hugs

76.   that turkeys don't weigh much more than twenty pounds

77.   birds

78.   flight—and the miracle of humans flying

79.   pencils

80.   art

81.   faces

82.   beauty

83.   being homeschooled

84.   phase ten (my very favorite card game)

85.   adults who invest in the lives of kids

86.   dictionaries

87.   tulips

88.   sandals

89.   coats

90.   coffee

91.   spell check

92.   blogging

93.   martial arts

94.   running

95.   my camera

96.   hot chocolate on a cold day

97.   -30 wind chills to make life exciting

98.   Vitamins

99.   Two feet

100.      thanksgiving