Tag: God

Occupy Life: Stones

The eyes peeped out from under raised eyebrows with extra height from tippy toes. I was sitting square at my desk, imploring my computer screen to talk back when I asked it questions about facts and figures. Maybe it was because of my secretarial intensity that I didn’t notice the peeping eyes right away. But when I did, I willingly jumped into a game of hide-and-seek with the boy standing on the other side of my office window.

I spotted his Dad a few feet away, making sure the landscaping in front of the building reflected the glory of the Spring season. And down he disappeared and wide went my gestures as I “searched” for him. Then, he slowly rose with two rocks and a broad smile, as if to say, “Can you believe I found two rocks? And aren’t these wonderful?”

He placed them triumphantly on my ledge and I gave my most excited “Ah!” face in appreciation for his find. Then some more peek-a-boos and then up came those little hands with two more rocks. The same wonder filled his face, as if to say, “Can you believe I found two rocks? And aren’t they wonderful?” He set them on display just outside the first two.

It didn’t matter that he’d already given the first two rocks or that the parking lot had many rocks. His wonder at the rocks never waned because of quantity or accessibility – His wonder simply was because the rock was.

Two more rocks found their way to my ledge before he got distracted and traipsed off, but I left them there.

I want to remember that there is wonder in today, but not because of rarity or some arbitrary value. There is wonder in today because God is breathing it into existence. There are clouds and sunshine and meetings and people and rocks because God is willing them into being in this very moment.

And I want to hold each thing up in my hands triumphantly and see the wonder.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

This is another in a series of posts called Occupy Life. Each day you and I occupy physical time and space, making bold statements about what is most important in this life (whether we’re holding picket signs or not). Other entries: Spanish at an Irish Pub, pancake batter, tying ribbons, Alejandra,  Lunch Hour, Delaney and Roland or the original post Occupy Life: Things One Might Do While Unemployed.

Posted on by Caroline 2

more Jesus, less caroline

Today blusters. The wind rushes the trees and picks up crunchy leaves from ground that should be covered in snow. Wednesday is my morning for study and I’m glad I’m sitting by a window. When the books press my brain and my journal scrawls make no sense, I just look out the window and breathe in the gray of this day.

I have rough days every once in awhile – days where it’s hard to smile and a labor to laugh.  Last week, I had one of those days. A friend sent a text to see if I wanted to hang out and my response was, “Rough day. Sad. Need more Jesus.” She was sweet, even if I wasn’t making perfect sense.

Today is looking way less rough and way more beautiful, but I still need more Jesus. It’s so funny how I work hard to cheat myself out of joy. I fill up my day and scrunch all sorts of non-sense into spare minutes so that there is nothing left. I read and think and write and dance and laugh and sing and sound my barbaric yawp in the quiet community parks. …And I work hard to make more space for me and little space for Jesus.

By 9 am, I’ve sealed my fate: life abundant is aiming a little too high. There is just too much caroline going on to be distracted by Jesus.

Oh, man.
Jesus had something else in mind for my days. Something magnificent and unexplainable and bigger than minutes and bigger than the wind outside this window.

Jesus said he came to bring life and life abundant (John 10:10). The only way abundance is going to fit in my day is if I become less. The silly madness of it all is that my searching, loving, and longing for Jesus will mean the best and most JOY – not less. Though I pack my days (good and bad) with other things, only more Jesus can make my life overflow with a joy that seeps into the corners of my sadness and twirls in the spontaneity of surprises. Only more Jesus will make sense of my brokenness and the world’s failures. Only more Jesus will lift my spirit above catty gossip and exchange it for words of blessing. Only more Jesus.

I’m praying this will be a Romans 15:13 kind of day.

Romans 15:13 says, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy.”

A day FILLED with ALL joy and peace, trusting in the Lord, OVERFLOWING with hope by the power of the Holy.

God LOVES so completely, so PERFECTLY, so winsomely. The wind blows and shakes the trees and I think…
How could I not want more in response?

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 0

this & that

It’s raining/snowing and the murky sky suits this Thursday.
I don’t mean that today is despairing, but I do mean that today seems like one of those days where weighty thoughts find a rightful place in the front of my brain. Maybe it’s the ushering in of the Lenten season or perhaps the strange, brown winter we’ve been ambling through… but today is full of weight and maybe you’d like to carry it with me.

Honduras never left my heart, but these past few weeks it’s been intense with two huge fires. You might have heard the news stories about the prison fire and the central market fire. The fire in the market was 5 minutes from where I lived a few short months ago. My sister in Christ tells me to pray for open doors so ministries can reach out during this time. My heart is heavy.

As I try to reflect in prayer during Lent, this blog post by Brett McCracken with Lenten Prayer requests is especially helpful. Oh, that my heart would be situated in a place where I can hear from the Lord.

Now that I’m living in the States again, this whole season feels different. There is something about a Catholic/Latin culture that surprised my spirit around this time. Apart from soccer, the religious traditions surrounding Easter always caused my heart to slow and consider the cost. This blog post by Russell Moore, “Always Mardi Gras, Never Easter” reminds me I must readjust my cultural lens to understand how to engage in conversations with Catholics/Protestants here.

I thought this article “Give up the Gimmicks, Youth Pastors” was an excellent read. I struggle seriously with all the games/programs/bells/whistles that make up our youth outreach programs in the US (and to Christian youth in general). I just don’t know what the best method is to effectively “speak their language” without sacrificing the content they are more than ready to receive.

I know I’ve certainly wrestled with “Why?” questions when it comes to God’s sovereignty. Just last night, I met up with some friends and before I could sit down they told me they were arguing about reincarnation. Before the conversation got too far, I found out the one guy’s mom was a Jehovah’s Witness and he knew his theology. At one point, he looked at me cynically and said, “Oh, sure. It’s about “sovereignty” isn’t it? Right. God is “sovereign” and that’s why it’s okay to say He created everything only to let it go to crap so that He could save it?” Whew! I tried to meet him where he was at and encourage his questions, but when I read this article from DesiringGod.org, “Why Did God Let Paul Become a Murderer?” I thought about all the answers that are foolish to those who don’t believe in the cross. I need serious grace and faith to believe God will give the words that make sense in the right time to the right people.

Well, folks, that’s a lot of reading. I’ll repeat the challenge from my last “this & that” post: How can my knowledge of God inform my obedience in a way that leads to actions full of love in reponse to these things?

Last night, I spoke with one of my dear friends who is still living and working in Honduras. She shared about a time recently when she was so full of sadness – days of heavy, unrelenting sadness because of the brokenness she sees. We agreed that sometimes – precious, painful sometimes – God responds to our prayers to, “break our hearts for what breaks Yours,” by allowing us a sliver of His pain. We couldn’t handle any more than that, but if we are fervently praying, we shouldn’t be surprised when our hearts start to swell inside our chests. We shouldn’t wish it away either. Those moments are precious – gifts to draw near to Him and grieve all the ways we’ve mangled his magnificent design. And then, to pray for His purpose to be realized through us – that every nation, tribe, tongue will hear the glorious news of the Gospel. The news that sets the crooked straight and the broken mended.

even with heavy hearts, in the power of the resurrected Savior, we can

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 1

where is the floor in the morning?

She was special. All my students were, but she was especially special.

I listened again this past week, via text, to the valleys that seem to stretch too long in her still-young life. I felt the too-familiar cringe curling my insides with the empty question, “Why?”

This child – God’s beloved child – walks every day a lone candle into a dark place. She has seen more messes in this life than I can count, but she is a candle all the same and her light shines on and dispells darkness.

And I remembered.
I wrote,
“Where will you find the floor tomorrow morning?”
She said, “right under my feet, beside my bed… everywhere I place my foot.”

I smiled.

It had come out in the middle of one of our ‘pep talks,’ sitting on furniture that had been rejected from all other offices. I don’t remember the subject exactly, but I remember how it ended. I was asking this very special girl if there was anything to know for certain when the world swirled like crazy around her. I was asking her if she could be sure of anything at all inside the broken mess of her days.

And that’s when I asked,
“When you get out of bed tomorrow morning, where will your feet land?”
“…on the floor?”
“And have you ever gotten out of bed in the morning to find the floor is gone?”
“… Um, no.”
“God is like that. You are His child and He is forever. He will not change with the amount of mess or blessing in your life. He will always, always be what your faith and hope stand on – and He will not move.”

Our whole house can crumble around us, but there is always this ground – this terra firma where we walk out our existence. There is always this ground, a solid foundation for each shaky step.

God is this foundation when the sunlight breaks through the window in the morning to shine on what was dark during the night.
God is this foundation when the shadows scurry under beds and behind doors.
God is this foundation when friendships dissolve and sadness overwhelms.

God is this foundation when we swing our feet out of bed every morning.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy
in the refuge of the King

Posted on by Caroline 2

ampersands

“… & now I live in Ames, Iowa.”

Tonight it struck me, facing a beautiful piece of stained glass in the cozy, stone room that tucked itself in as an afterthought of the grand cathedral. I sat in the corner and scanned the room, drank in the faces, and then closed my eyes to let the lilting music of rolled r’s and long o’s seep behind my watery eyes.

Tonight I found myself (at 5:15 pm and on time to the 5 pm service) at the Spanish Mass and I started to feel the weight of my most recent ampersand.

“… & now I live in Ames, Iowa.”

The weight is not wrong, only sometimes I forget what I joyfully carry around – three years of my life lived with kingdom eyes to hold the gaze of beauty in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. With every ampersand added to my life, I found the blessing of my daily rhythm beholding the beauty of God.

I sang & jumped & talked
& listened & wrote
& learned & prayed
& crafted & played
& taught & watched
& loved…

because God showed me boundless grace & mercy.

God commissions me, with His blessing, to be a blessing… to stuff my life full of ampersands that PROCLAIM His glory.

Some ampersands are harder than others to etch into my life sentences. Some ampersands are carved painfully because I’d really rather not add anything else.

But, no matter how they find their way into my story, I love ’em… because what else can we do with the life God gives us? Every ampersand is a blessing, every day and each moment – an ampersand stamped on our existence this side of heaven.

I’m looking at my long list of ampersands tonight and counting my many blessings… counting them like currency that should be spent lavishly on gifts.

“… & now I live in Ames, Iowa.”

Thank you, Lord, for stamping this ampersand on my 27-year-old life. Thank you for bringing me here and adding dump trucks of blessings on my already overflowing soul. Thank you for the hard days and the brilliant days and the days I wish I were somewhere other than here.

I pray I make every ampersand (every blessing added to my days, every moment) available to others in a way that brings them face to face with the Giver – no matter where my ampersands land me.

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Posted on by Caroline 3

the greatest story that ever was

I wrote this entire post yesterday and then cyberspace stole it. It took me awhile to cool off and find time to try it again (because I had a 15 minute window between work and work), but if Vince is right – this should be better anyway.

This morning I woke up remembering. My mind was heavy with it and I didn’t want to shake free. A deep sadness chased after rose-petaled joy in the wide expanse of slight slumber and I soaked it all in with my head smooshed to the pillow. Remembering.

I know the words to a beautiful tale of trial and tragedy and triumph. I know the beginning and ending of the greatest story that ever was. I carry around the chapters in thought bubbles above my head and feel them in the work of my hands. It’s a living kind of story that is both finished and in process. It’s the kind of story that everyone wants to believe is true, but only some have eyes to see.

It’s a story where we are the characters and we live the plot.

This story is the Gospel.
God’s plan for humankind to live as we were designed – for worship.

The Gospel is the greatest story that ever was, penned by the Creator with great care – from the moment the first light broke into the furthest reaches of black void.

In the beginning, God. Forever before and forever after this little blip called human existence, God lives – Perfect, Holy, and Blameless. Our failure to reflect Him (in His perfection) required a hero – a Perfect Savior who would stand in our place to take on everything imperfect, unholy, and blame-filled. Christ is that Savior. 

And today my heart is heavy with the weight of this story – to receive it with joy and to tell it with abandon; to preach it with my feet and to sing it with laughter. This is the story of deliverance from death to life, from lost to found.

This is the story that changes everything. And so deep sadness plays with great joy in my soul as I turn over this blessing in my sleepy mind. This is the story that changes everything.

What have I imagined to be more important than this story? What have I elevated to get more fame than this true tale? What has taken my gaze from the One who redeemed me from the pit and restored my soul?

Today, the act opens on the greatest story that ever was and sets the stage for the greatest party that ever was. 

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

what scene are you making tonight? we are bound to make a scene – like fools in love.

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Posted on by Caroline 0

Occupy Life: Spanish at an Irish pub

This is another in a series of posts called Occupy Life. Each day you and I occupy physical time and space, making bold statements about what is most important in this life (whether we’re holding picket signs or not). Other entries: pancake batter, tying ribbons, Alejandra,  Lunch Hour, Delaney and Roland or the original post Occupy Life: Things One Might Do While Unemployed.

The scene is an unlikely one – Iowa’s attempt at a small Irish pub – but as good a place as any to brush up on my rusty Spanish skills. I’ve given up thinking my heart is capable of uprooting and replanting an endless amount of times. Instead, I believe my heart has magical roots that span states and countries and oceans. And maybe for that reason, I still kind of introduce myself as 100% catracha. If you don’t understand, then you probably aren’t Honduran. But, it might explain why the invitation to tell stories of Honduras in Spanish made my skin tingle.

The excitement came like a flood as I talked about all the faces and places and valleys and mountains that led me to discover a fuller picture of my God. And then I realized my words tripping over words may not make any sense to my friend – especially in Spanish. I offered to switch back to English, but my friend said my blabbering was preferable to Rosetta Stone.

And then it hit me. The words flew out of my mouth accompanied by hands waving and another wild (probably unflattering) smile stretched across my face, “a la orden!”

“A la orden” is a Spanish phrase that means, “at your service” and it was thrown around as often as Midwestern “hellos” when I was in Honduras. I noticed whenever one of my high school girls complimented another on an outfit, the response was always, “a la orden,” which meant that the outfit or shoes or whatever could be borrowed at any time. It was “at their service.” I started to think that we should have the same response whenever anyone compliments our talents.

My friend looked amused. I was trying to gather my jumbled excitement and put it into words… words that could somehow communicate how passionate I am about this idea that NOTHING I can do/say/sing/write/give is mine. Nothing. I don’t own my talents. There is no Caroline Copyright on my abilities. It’s ALL the Lord’s and it is ALL on loan for the purpose of loving God and serving others.

Right there in that cozy, Irish-looking booth I gestured and exclaimed and squealed and probably got more excited than the average, sober Irish pub-goer. But it was like re-discovering this beautiful Truth in a new context called Ames, Iowa.

I live here. I work here. I serve here.
How can I love God by making my every talent available to others?

Oh, you like my whimsical bubble letters? Let me know when you need a poster made.
Oh, you like the way I chase your kids around? Let me know when you need a night off.
Oh, you like my acapella singing at work? Let me know when you need a karaoke buddy.
Oh, you’re looking for a Spanish speaking buddy? Let me know the time and place.

Seriously, just TALKING about a la orden makes my heart sing.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy
by turning compliments into acts of service

Posted on by Caroline 6

does God giggle?

Apparently, Iowa has a high tolerance for awkward as well.
My state made caucus a verb (it was a strange enough noun).

Yesterday, after my very gauche post, my best friend from college sent me an email with this little inspired nugget to capture the lengthier explanation. I love it.

Oh, goodness. I love how a friend can still know you so well, but live so far.

Today I laughed with gumption and it felt spectacular. I’m not sure what to hold responsible, but if I figure it out I’m going back to say thank you. In fact, I wouldn’t mind doing some gratitude back-tracking right now before hitting the books and my sweet pillow.

here’s some blessings as I counted them today:

the early morning moments when I sit with my coffee and my 3650 Challenge, soaking deep in Truth.
the acoustic guitar in the office singing bon iver, adele, and hanson.
dreaming about an office space where inspiration happens and stories unfold.
the office printer, when it does and doesn’t work, is a magical machine.
check marks – oh heavens! I am ever-so-thankful for checkmarks in even slightly important places to make me feel legitimate and productive.
finding a remote control car in a co-worker’s office; laughing like a child.
forgetting my lunch and then getting invited to hang with the cool kids.
wearing my thrifted boots (thanks, Dad) that make my feet feel like snuggly eskimos.
chasing around my cousins and hearing their laughter unleashed.
the balance of cousin cate, who loves make believe and cousin charlie, who loves to cuddle.

mischief.

I know it sounds weird, but I can get riled up (in a good way) about some good-old fashioned mischief, the same way I get excited about mystery. I kind of think they are related. And, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say I think both are, um… holy.

If you’ve read Chesterton’s The Man Who Was Thursday, then you’ve at least thought about how God must have a perfect sense of humor and maybe you’ve wondered (with me) a little bit about what that humor looks like.

I mean, have you ever wondered why we have armpits or why every blade of grass is distinct or why things like treehouses are places where children play, but where insects probably reign?

Do you wonder what His laughter sounds like? I often do.

What did God think of the caucuses in Iowa tonight? Does He giggle at that funny word?

I don’t know, but I’m sure excited to find out one day.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 0

it’s a good, good morning

I just wanted to send this off before the day runs away from me.

Christianity Today named Love & War & the Sea In Between by Josh Garrels Album of the Year for 2011. You owe it a listen. Oh, and you can download the whole album for free on bandcamp.

Nothing like a good soundtrack for naming blessings today. The tree outside the window, begging for snow, the slightly sore muscles after a workout, the Christmas gifts I’ll be packing up before I head to southwest Iowa after work today. All gifts, these.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 0

let the winter come

A fan favorite
Tilt-A-Whirl

“Let the Winter come, for it is the only path to Spring.”

Still recovering from the intellectual and spiritual shock of One Thousand Gifts, I’ve jumped into another book where wide-eyed wonder has center stage.

When I read, “This book does not go straight,” in the preface of N.D. Wilson‘s book Notes From The Tilt-A-Whirl, it was like meeting someone for the first time who also happens to love imagination stations, homemade musicals, and the back issues of Real Simple.

It was almost too good. Wilson writes, “This book is built on that pattern [a car on a Tilt-A-Whirl] – spinning small and spinning big – and follows the earth through the seasons of one orbit.”

YES!

Someone finally admits this is all craziness and we have no choice but to step in and delight in the madness that is music and look reverently for the Conductor of it all.

This morning as I sat in church and listened to the message from Luke 2:1-20, I marveled that God chose to make the birth of the Messiah known by a stunning display of musical genius.

Can you imagine how this announcement would put all our cute little refrigerator photos to shame? A celestial choir in perfect harmony filled the sky with a music too pure for words, too perfect for description.

But, the announcement never made it to all those houses and all those fridges who expected to know of such an event.

God orchestrated the single best (and only) opening night production of, “Messiah has come to earth!” for a group of humble shepherds out in the fields, away from the city and the noise. There was no billboard, just the heavens collaborating in great joy – an indescribable gift for every one of the senses.

We are wrapped up into this mad story of cosmic romance where nothing makes any sense. Unless, of course, we hear the song of the angels. Unless we believe that our filthy, desperate lives can be redeemed. Unless we allow our eyes to travel upward and focus in on the grand production of the universe, orchestrated by its Creator to announce the coming of Life and a way out from misery and into great joy.

If you have been audience to such a performance, to whom are you now declaring this message – this production that now lives inside your heart as a follower of Christ?

For we are surely singing in glory with the angels that Hope has come down. And this Hope will not [can not] disappoint.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

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Posted on by Caroline 4