Saturday, June 29, 2013

i will not be shaken



It was a long week at camp. I was tired and cranky and short on patience at times, and my cabin of girls this week was a lot harder to handle than my past two cabins had been. But even in the midst of discouragement and struggle, every day had a few oases of rest in the wonder of God. Misty morning runs and stretches with my favorite running buddy, Erin; a precious few minutes with just my Bible and my God before the wakeup bell; and the chorus of a hundred campers excited to worship the Lord in chapel were a few of the things that kept me going and reminded me why I was there. Again and again, I was awed by the sheer magnitude of the God I serve. He doesn’t just use me on my good days; He uses me on my bad days, too—not because He needs to, but because He wants to. I can’t help but revel in that unparalleled grace and mercy and love.

 My soul, wait in silence for God only,
For my hope is from Him.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
My stronghold; I shall not be shaken.
On God my salvation and my glory rest;
The rock of my strength, my refuge is in God.
Trust in Him at all times, O people;
Pour out your heart before Him;
God is a refuge for us. Selah.
Psalm 62:5-8

Saturday, June 22, 2013

an adventurous life


“An adventurous life does not necessarily mean climbing mountains, swimming with sharks or jumping off cliffs. It means risking yourself by leaving a little piece of you behind in all those you meet along the way.”                                                                                                                            - unknown

Flowers and Views 733Watsons91Pennsylvania copyTempleMount

The longer I live and the more I travel (though I can't say I have much of either one behind me yet), the more intensely aware I am of the temporal nature of life. Friends change in both appearance and personality as the blade of time carves away at them; sometimes, they walk away altogether and leave a gap behind. Circumstances shift with the paradoxically erratic regularity of seashells at the mercy of the tides. Even places, which seem so static, take on subtle new attributes or lose dear old ones as society around and within them is altered—or, perhaps, as my own experiences reshape my perspectives.

Changes like these both excite me and sadden me. With every beginning, I know I have to brace myself for a goodbye. With every new place I experience, I know that I will leave part of myself there in the end. I can love an inexhaustible number of places at any one time, but I can only be in one of them; I will forever have a loneliness and longing for somewhere, and I will forever be fighting the evanescence of those memories.

My world is much bigger now than it was twelve months ago. It stretches from coast to coast, from the northwest extreme of the continental United States all the way to the southeastern corner. It zigzags up to Pennsylvania and back. It even reaches to the other side of the world. Now, I can hear a snippet of the song “Kiss Me Slowly” and be walking down the snowy December road in Goldendale; yet when “Rhythm of Love” comes up on my iPod, it takes me to the downtown Sebring sidewalk that I used to walk or run nearly every single day. A sultry-hot sunrise, and I am in Melbourne again, just beginning my GCBI year; when the night is cool and breezy with clear, starry skies, it's a traditional Fourth of July at Sam’s parents’ house. Even the scent of coconut-lime perfume means Florida, while vanilla-sugar means Christmastime at home and coconut bodywash means summer in Pennsylvania. And then I barely even have to imagine the throaty sound of Hebrew being spoken, and instantly my surroundings transform into the light beige stones of Old City Jerusalem.

Whether I'm in Washington, Florida, Pennsylvania, or Israel, I can be taken somewhere else for a fleeting instant, and it reminds me that I am invested in more than one place—that a piece of my heart is buried under a mossy Florida oak somewhere, while another is tucked safely between the stones of the Western Wall in Jerusalem. That I love and am loved by a family far bigger than my biological one. I too am changing. I too am being carved by the blade of time, carefully wielded in the hand of God. Day by day He molds me and refines me. Pieces are trimmed off and left in the places I've been, a testimony to His continual work in my heart and life—wherever He takes me.


There are moments which mark your life. Moments when you realize nothing will ever be the same and time is divided into two parts: before this, and after this.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

camp, week one



I just finished week one of counseling at summer camp. It was a week of living outside my comfort zone and finding out that I actually enjoyed that. It was a week of pouring all that I could into twelve high school girls, each of them struggling and hurting in a different way. It was a week of heartbreak for their pain and joy in their enjoyment. But I think what hit me most was that this was a week of answered prayers. Never have I seen God’s hand move so clearly and awesomely in response to the pleas of His children. So many times I cried out to Him, and so many times I received a response that blew my mind. There were even moments when I honestly didn’t know what or how to pray, but the Holy Spirit spoke into my heart and gave me the words.

I had a short weekend to rest and recuperate and I head back out to the frontlines tonight for another week, this time with junior high kids. I’m so excited for what God is going to do!

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

pennsylvania in june


A two-day roadtrip with just about all that we own stuffed into Hannah’s Volvo later, we are officially back in “the Cove.” The last time I saw it, it looked like this:


But a lot has changed!


Welcome to my summer home—a place with good water, hills to run up and down, and that distinctly different atmosphere that only northern summers have. If I can’t have beautiful Washington back yet, then I’m glad that I at least get Pennsylvania. :)


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...