Category: this is me

the thread that runs through the day

I have become somewhat obsessed with -ing. As in, the verb form used as a present participle, as a gerund, and sometimes as an independent noun or adjective.

I am definitely ill-qualified to have such an obsession because (I’m embarrassed to say) I’ve forgotten most of the English grammar rules I learned in 9th grade. But, the reason I keep lingering on -ing is not to hash out the intricacies of English grammar.

I’m interested in what it means to actively, continually, desperately believe.

The best way a word can communicate such hopeful hanging-on is, I think, those three little letters on the end.

Believing is the thread that runs through my day when I’m in the middle of desperation or in the middle of delight. Every step is belief that God will be a promise keeper for the next.

What do you call the thread of belief that runs through the day?

Believing.

I am just drenched in delight over the active, on-going, continual process of believing. God is able to supply everything I need to believe in every moment – no matter what the moment holds. Often from one moment to the next our belief is tested in different ways, stretched in different directions, and pushed past its breaking point. But, nevertheless, in EVERY moment God is promise keeper, filling our souls with belief enough to withstand the moments.

And not just belief enough to get through the moments, but belief enough to ENJOY Him in every moment.

I just can’t get over it. If you’re wondering where I’m at this weekend, you’ll find me believing from one moment to the next.

God is faithful to supply all our needs according to His riches in glory. He is faithful to keep His promises to us and our lives explode with joy as a result.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy
Posted on by Caroline 0

like diamonds

We were sitting on the patio in half-shade/half-sun on a lazy Sunday afternoon, sipping strong french roast coffee, nibbling at coconut cake, and talking about diamonds. We got to diamonds after several rabbit trails, but mostly because we were trying to understand vulnerability.

This TED talk by Brené Brown explores her years of research on the subject and her conclusions that vulnerability is one of the most feared but most important aspects of human relationship, and specifically human thriving. The very thing that has the power to destroy someone (through shame, fear, struggle for worthiness) also has the power to birth joy, creativity, belonging, and love, so the research says.

Brown’s research actually ended up planting her in a therapist’s chair as she tried to piece through her findings. I can’t say that I’m surprised – about the research or about her breakdown (as she describes it), but I’ve been thinking about it for the past month or so.

And while I sat with Alejandra on that patio under the Minnesota Sunday sunshine, I wondered if the value of vulnerability is not the main question (I’ll defer to Brown’s extensive 10 years of research for that). I wondered, instead, if the more important question is the best place from which to be vulnerable. Of course, an analogy slowly formed as we sat (she is so patient to listen to my ramblings) about diamonds.

In relationships, if we brave vulnerability at all, we will usually attach an expectation onto the offering. In other words, we will share something (like the fear of being lonely, for example) with an often unspoken expectation that the other person not only keep the information safe, but also that s/he will know better how to care for us when we are lonely.

It’s as if we’ve all got panes of glass in our closets and when we get close enough to someone, we give them a pane of glass. We present a beautiful, transparent, perfectly cut pane of glass with shaky hands and with eyes that say, “Handle with care” because (of course) glass is breakable. We are nervous as we share things about our childhood, our nightmares, our dreams for the future, our weight, our most embarrassing moment, and our fears. We are nervous because glass is breakable and we are giving our breakable parts to someone else.

We expect that person to store the beautiful, transparent, perfectly cut pane of glass in the safest place and also to treat us differently, now that s/he can see through that window to our souls. We want them to make comments about our beauty, reassure us about the future, and know when a song triggers a painful childhood memory.

What happens when that trusted person forgets to handle the shared glass with care?

It breaks.

It breaks into a tiny million little pieces and a little piece of us breaks too. S/he didn’t call to say sorry on the date when your mom died, s/he fell asleep when you were sharing about a bad dream, s/he made fun of your hair/weight/style, s/he told friends your most embarrassing moment.

Glass broken. Unrepairable. Shattered.

But what if it wasn’t glass we were sharing, with the expectation that the receiver keep it safe? What if we were sharing diamonds instead?

What if we find our worth completely in someone who is only capable of being faithful, trustworthy, true, compassionate, and merciful?

I’ve been crucified with Christ, therefore I no longer live but Jesus Christ now lives in me (Galatians 2:20). If God approves of Christ, He approves of us because Christ lives in us. We know that we are new creations (2 Corinthians 5:17) who are approved by God and not ashamed (2 Timothy 2:15).

This knowledge (I’ve only scratched the surface) fundamentally changes how we approach vulnerability. I am no longer offering something in relationships that can be broken because my worth and safety and joy and fulfillment is sealed in the crucifixion of Christ. I am sharing diamonds – the rock that never loses its worth, the rock that can’t be broken, the rock that sparkles from every angle.

Can diamonds be thrown in the mud or the ocean or the desert? Yep, they sure can. Diamonds can be buried in the deepest cave, but they still wouldn’t lose their worth. We worry about being vulnerable when we presume our fears and shame define us. It’s a scary thing to let someone in to see “who you really are” if the things you hide define you.

But, God made a way – a new definition – so we could be defined by His Son. Our worth and purpose and freedom are beautifully bound up in the miraculous work of the cross. There is no chance that our fears and shame and failure and struggle could makes less that miraculous work.

Our vulnerabilities are diamonds kept safe by the Creator of the Universe – whether we share it with kings or with paupers, tax collectors or pharisees, lovers or friends, enemies or allies. We are made in the image of God and transformed into the likeness of His Son with ever increasing glory (2 Corinthians 3:18).

This is how Paul describes his confidence in being a minister of the new covenant (an extremely vulnerable and visible position),

Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God. Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God, who has made us sufficient to be ministers of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit. For the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life. (2 Corinthians 3:4-6 ESV)

The Spirit gives life. The letter (the law) kills – even the laws we create for ourselves and the expectations we place on others to handle us with care. The law of the Spirit of life sets us free from the law of sin and death (Romans 8), so that we need only to place our expectation of being held up on the One who can hold us up.

Christ is sufficient to keep safe every vulnerability so that when we choose to share those deep things we are not afraid they can break us.

Posted on by Caroline 6

joy blooms

My grandma is incredible at noticing the little things about flowers. She has a beautiful garden in her backyard, but she often brings in the blooms to set on the counter. She watches and often narrates the process as the bud breaks out into full splendor. I love hearing her talk about her blooming flowers, because that’s what flowers were made to do: bloom.

There are drought years and there are flood years and there are late years and early years, but the fact remains: flowers are made to bloom.

I think we are made for joy.

It may not manifest at all times in the very same ways, but God has designed us to enjoy Him. We are growing and budding and reaching for the sun as His grace builds the bloom, but it’s always in there – even in droughts and floods and in years where seeds are planted late.

We are made for joy and I’m not sure when we feel it more, when we are desperate in drought times or when we are displaying the glory of a full bloom. But it doesn’t really matter when we feel it, it matters that we are made for it – made for enjoying God.

The weight of this enjoyment is like gravity – pulling us ground-ward as we walk out life on earth, but lifting our eyes upward as we marvel at the power of such force.

Joy is in full bloom and I am made to display the splendor.

This is that post where I ask you to excuse me for being absent – where I tell you I have been living life away from my keyboard and I’m not sorry. Well, maybe I’m a little bit sorry because “living life” means I have a very long list of inspiration that needs to find its way on here soon.

What have you been up to, meanwhile?

Posted on by Caroline 0

before all that: exploring a life of desperate dependence

Before the breakdown and before the last straw that falls on the camel’s back.

Before all that.

What if we got desperate and dependent before anxiety wrapped its cold, stubborn fingers around our hearts?

I’ve learned dependence before, many times. While boarding with  a leaky car in Austin and while bumming on a co-worker’s couch I learned some important things about dependence. But we have a tendency to label lessons like mile markers – things we’ve passed along the way. Once we’ve learned a lesson, we move on with a forward gaze, assuming the lesson is added to our lives like a scout badge on a vest.

Well, maybe it’s just me that does that – but I’m only cheating myself out of joy if I live treating lessons like mile markers or scout badges.

Oh, how I love my patient and faithful Savior! He is reminding me that “casting all your cares on the Lord because He cares for you” is not merely for the SOS moments. Maybe let me rephrase: our lives are a string of SOS moments.

This is what I am learning and living.

We are made to be desperate, but not the kind of desperate that builds up to a breaking point and then explodes out of control. Not that kind of desperate.

We are made to depend desperately on the One who will trade our need for His provision.

That is His good design. Our dependence is deeper than bread and water, but our needs are all in the same well that His grace is sufficient to fill. That is His good design – desperate dependence, all the time.

We cast our cares on Him because He cares for us – because He has been faithful and promises to be faithful in the future. Our God has never broken a promise, not ever. My desperate dependence is evidence that I believe Him to be just that.

So, when a string of days fills with SOS moments, there is not less joy available. It is not a lesson of dependence that marks another mile walked on the faith road. Desperate dependence is the road we walk, the path we tread as we daily rejoice in His provision for us. He provides all that we need, according to His riches in glory (Philippians 4:19) – and there is no bank with better credit. Our provision comes from the source of all things.

The deep well of His sufficient grace offers peace (Philippians 4:6) when we cast our cares (1 Peter 5:7), believing that God is the strength for our hearts and portion forever (Psalm 73:26).

Before the breakdown and before the last straw (but of course, in those times too), we are invited to desperately depend on the One who can sufficiently provide for our needs and overwhelm our lives with joy.

I could tell you about the past two days – about the car trouble and the appointments and the millions of ways that God gave me good gifts. I could tell you about the near disasters (averted, I know, by the grace of God) and the very friendly repair shop on SE 14th Street. I could tell you about the songs I sang in my car with littles in the backseat and the way they explained the songs to their parent. I could tell you about sitting around a coffee table in community and laughter.

I could tell you just a few of the millions of ways God is providing in the desperately dependent state, but then it might seem like this is something I “learned” in the past two days.

And I didn’t learn it, in the past tense way.

This desperate dependence is meant to be a lifestyle that flows like the lifeblood in my veins, keeping me existing here on earth. So, I’m exploring a life of desperate dependence, walking that road with eternity hidden in my heart.

Posted on by Caroline 3

conductor and composer

The birds are singing again this morning. I’m not sure where they hid when weary winter came for a surprising May visit. I saw many of them fluttering about in confusion, but this morning they are singing again.

And I know who is sustaining them.

I know the One who is holding things together so the birds can sing their song to heaven for a morning audience. I know Him.

The birds are singing and how can I not sing with them? I get overwhelmed at the song creation sings because I know there is always a place for me in the choir. As God does whatever He pleases (Psalm 115:3), He is pleased to hold things together (Colossians 1:17) and invite us into His joy.

The birds do not sing to say thank you as God holds them together and writes the music for their song. They do not sing to exchange beauty for beauty.

The birds sing because God gave them a song.

Who has given a gift to God that he might be repaid? For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. (Romans 11:35–36)

The birds sing because God receives glory when creation steps into His joy and He wrote the music for just such a celebration. He is the conductor as much as He is the composer of creation’s song and there is a part for me to sing today.

May God be praised as I sing the song hidden in my heart in praise of His glorious grace!

Posted on by Caroline 0

don’t stop too soon

It is a brave soul that uncovers raw pain
to search for meaning in existence,
that wearies and wars the shallows
to dig the depths of sorrow’s persistence

Don’t stop too soon.

It is a brave soul that sheds skins
and peels off veneers to find what truth is,
that pulls hard against peril when
layers reveal atrocities and ugly ruins

Don’t stop too soon.

It is a brave soul that opens eyes
against the blinding light of the sun,
that burns its heat and with fierce
impression reminds from where it comes

Don’t stop too soon.

It is a braver soul who believes
that Christ paid the ultimate cost,
tortured Himself so the tortured soul
would no longer be living lost

Don’t stop being brave too soon,
and whatever your bravery may find,
know that Christ Himself is brave for you
and His victory is thine.

This is day 4 of my “every day in may” creative challenge – to write something (poem, story, note, thought) as a special blessing for someone. I won’t share each day, but I wanted to share this poem from day 3.

There are several people in my life going through difficult times right now, so I’ve been thinking about bravery. If we are brave enough to be exposed and vulnerable (great thoughts from recent TED talk on this), then we will most definitely step into a mess of pain. But if our bravery ends there, we will miss out. We must be brave enough to see the deepest and most vulnerable hurt to experience the deepest and most satisfying joy.

Posted on by Caroline 1

admiration for existence

Cover of "Gilead: A Novel"
Cover of Gilead: A Novel

Oh, the mysterious power of story.

We look at life differently when we step into worlds where anything is possible – where things are upside down because that’s how the storyteller is telling it. We don’t look for any other explanation because we don’t need one. The story unfolds and we sit on the edge of our seats (or whatever nook where fiction is best read) to follow the narrative.

I’m so tangled up with the characters of Marilynne Robinson‘s Gilead that I may already think of them as real people in my life – the way some people think about celebrities I suppose.

John Ames is a brilliant man, but the least presuming man I know. He is coming to the end of his life slowly and carrying very little resentment, at least that I can tell. He wants so badly for his young son to know things – things about his heritage and stories he was told as a boy. But John doesn’t just say things in the pages he hopes his son will one day read. This aging preacher admires existence by stringing words together and then invites his son into the wonder with him.

This is what the preacher’s writing is doing to me, anyway. I have so many things highlighted in my kindle edition that I could sit for hours and write the inspiration that comes from a few words, a phrase, a sentence, an analogy. He is genius in a way that isn’t self-promotional and my creativity kind of balks at that. He chooses words carefully, even though he knows that by the time his son reads the letters it will do him no good to sound impressive.

And do you see how brilliant Marilynne is as a storyteller? I am engaging directly with her characters, who I’ve decided are brilliant. When we can crawl inside the story and learn from the characters, the author has achieved a very fragile beauty. Her characters are teaching me, inspiring me, and creatively challenging me to look at the world differently – to see wonder in the way the light dances on the moon and to notice beauty in routine human exchanges.

In one of his letters, Ames wrote,

“I have been so full of admiration for existence that I have hardly been able to enjoy it properly.” (Gilead, p. 64)

What does being that full of admiration feel like and how does one know when proper enjoyment is just out of reach? Could it be that when we are enjoying fully we understand our enjoying to be a truer glimpse of what is to come (and that a proper enjoying will last forever)?

I know part of the beauty of Ames’s character is that he is near death and so finds freedom for transparency and for love in a way that we’ve constrained ourselves against (though we are all just as mortal).

Maybe there is a way to shake some of the constraint – to live a little less encumbered by this mortal life and thereby being freed to full admiration for its existence.

Posted on by Caroline 4

there is a peace

This last day of April stretched out long and I stretched out to test the seams of it – to try to be as patient as the moments that crept by so I could experience each one fully. It has been some time since one day has had so many slow moments and I was content to savor them all. Maybe it was the sun that slowed things down, begging me to look extra long at the city as I sped from place to place.

There is a peace.

Maybe it’s irresponsible to be unafraid of the future and maybe it’s naive to hope for impossible things. Maybe the illusive peace this world craves with groans is not a thing my soul can feel. But, maybe not.

By grace (o, mysterious grace!), we can say, “There is a peace” both with certainty and with hope. Our belief that God is Redeemer, Promise-Keeper, Defender, Lover, Savior, and Friend prompts our certainty and his faithfulness to be all those things prompts our hope. The grace empowered cycle of certainty and hope is a fountain that wells up and overflows in peace that covers all uncertain and desperate moments.

There is a peace to settle your soul. Well, it’s settling mine anyway.

What shall I do with a settled soul? How can I make sure the certain and hopeful moments are not wasted? Our memory verse (from Fighter Verses) for this week is Romans 12:11-13,

Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.

There is a gracious peace that has settled my soul and the Lord is calling me to make my peace productive. The same grace that allows me peace makes provision for good works (2 Corinthians 9:8) that have been prepared for me to do (Ephesians 2:10). As I savor the cycle of certainty and hope, God is breathing life into my bones so that I may live and move and have my being (Acts 17:28).

All this peace is for a purpose – that the Lord would be glorified in my dependence, my delight, and my diligence.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

There are many, many ways to serve our friends, family, and neighbors. This is May 1 and every May I try to accept the Every Day in May challenge. This year, I am going to use my love for creative writing to bless someone new each day. This might be through a story, card, special email, or clever joke. I may or may not post everything I do, but I might report some of the stories that happen as a result. I encourage you to take the challenge as well – for the month of May, choose to do something you love every day. My little addition is that you would use the “something you love” to bless others – that way you are both glorifying God with your gifts and blessing others with your offering!

from @frenchtoastgirl
Posted on by Caroline 3

Spring is waking the slumbered

I never thought my heart would race at full parking lots or that my lips would form a smile at the line of shirtless men fishing off the 4th Street bridge. Nope, never thought I’d be getting a rush from the sound of a lawn mower or the open-window chatter in the neighborhood.

Does Spring race your heart? It does mine.

I was running the river path, breathing in the hot Spring air and battling the strong breeze. My feet pounded steady while my thoughts jostled into some sense, but I kept wanting to giggle. I did a few times, I think. All those white-chested, shirtless men on 4th Street were quite the spectacle – with their fishing poles hanging lazy over the bridge. You know, just city fishing on a Sunday afternoon.

I loved it. I think it’s because Spring shakes out all the winter slumber of indoor activities. Spring beckons us to come out and frolic in it’s sunshine. Have you noticed it is incredibly hard to say “No” to a barbeque or a picnic or a walk in the park when Spring arrives? Am I the only one who feels the stretching and waking of Spring in my soul? I wanted to stop and savor the city fisherman and the crowd of bikers at the bar and the full parking lot at the park.

I wanted to let the delight sink in.

Maybe Spring doesn’t inspire you. Maybe your neighbor doesn’t have the most beautiful flowering magnolia tree. Maybe your neighbors don’t grill out on their patios and play latin music. Maybe where you are from, people stay indoors and don’t mow their lawns or pick up sticks in the front yard. Maybe the sun doesn’t shine on the river and the breeze doesn’t feel electric against your skin. Maybe your neighbors don’t accept your dinner invites and maybe you don’t have a patio set that your dad picked up at a thrift store.

I guess I could see how that kind of Spring would have a hard time waking you from winter slumber.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

 

Posted on by Caroline 0

I sing because

Today, I will rest on His goodness – in my doubting and in my fears.

And inside my resting I will sing freedom and joy into the blowing, Friday sunshine. I will sing to remember His constant friendship, His faithful refuge, and His future grace. 

I will wake up my affections at morning and noonday and evening to throw my heart’s melodies at the skies because this is what my heart is most at home to do.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

 

Posted on by Caroline 0