Life never really seems to meet your expectations.

I had low expectations about Snow White and the Huntsman. I expected it to be a total waste of money. Even though the plot line was "eh," it was surprisingly entertaining (in the mindless sort of way).

I had high expectations that the ice cream I ate tonight would be totally worth the splitting headache and awful stomachache I knew would soon follow.... It wasn't. :P :)


I expected tonight to be a very different night.

I kept pretty busy today, running from errand to errand. One of my best friends was visiting from Portland so I was able to spend the evening with her. She rode a jet ski for the first time, and we had a lovely time catching up. True, it had only been a few weeks, but I missed her. :) I got her home (Rogue River) on time and everything. However, as I wound around and through the mountains of rogue river, a Shall We Dance played on my iPod, and I could no longer ignore the fact that tonight had been very different than I had planned.

It's funny how God takes things away from us and then gives them back. It's also really confusing. How do we know if God is warning us about a bad thing, or if Satan is merely trying to corrupt a good thing? Usually, I would have answered "just make a decision, then you'll know for sure." God doesn't want us to just sit around and wait for Him to give us the thumbs up. I believe he wants us to make decisions on our own, which is why I would tell people that if they don't know what the answer is, just make a decision and you'll find out..... Now? Not so much.

I keep wondering, how do you muster the courage to get back on your feet when you keep getting knocked down? The most obvious answer: cling to God and expect him to lift you. At least, that's what the bible says. But what the hec does that look like??? I mean seriously...?

Now to answer my own question. It means continuing in what you know is good and honorable. When you don't know whether or not something is right, the best thing to do is to strive to be "above reproach." See, but even as I type out those words they sound so hollow. Failed expectations, especially when you were expecting more out of a situation can be hurtful, devastating even. So then, what happens when the words that have worked so many times, lose their meaning and become and another empty expression that you use to help you face each day? Perhaps this is all a bit melodramatic. I don't mean for it to be.

What I would like to say is that I never doubt God has a perfect plan for my life. That I always rejoice in my circumstances because I know God is in control. Or that I never complain, knowing that God knows what is best for me. But the truth is I don't actually do those things. While I believe God has a perfect plan for my life, I worry and fret constantly about what is around the bend. And though I am able to find joy in my circumstances, I often focus on man's power and his influence over my happiness. And finally, I complain all the time. Seriously. All. the. time. I love that line from the song "Blessings."

"We doubt your goodness, we don't your love, as if every promise from your word is not enough." 

The song focuses on God's unexpected blessings in the tears and trials of life. This post isn't about theology, or a certain agenda that I'm trying to present. It isn't about what the answer is or isn't, so please don't think that I'm offering explanations or answers. God knows I don't have either. But I do have God's word. And that has everything we could need. Anyone who says otherwise hasn't really read it. I'm not presuming to have complete knowledge of the bible, anymore so than any other christian. But I know that no matter what emotion I'm dealing with, God has a way of bringing me back to truth through his word.

"But as for me, my prayer is to you O Lord. At an acceptable time, O God, in the abundance or your steadfast love answer me in your saving faithfulness." Psalm 69:13

I love this verse, and it's helped me a good deal. The fact of the matter is, life rarely meets our expectations, because we have no way of knowing what's going to happen or what is good for us. If life were always as we expected, how boring would that be? And we would never learn anything.

This post is jumbled, a bit disjointed, and maybe even downright confusing. But God isn't any of those things, which is kind of nice. :) Oh, how much can we lean on him for support and encouragement, when life fails to meet our expectations.

Personal Revelation: It's so nice when all that is left is pain. Anger is exhausting. Confusion is exhausting. Hatred is exhausting. But pain... you can learn to live with pain. 

God promises us the most amazing things. I read this just this morning

"Save me, O God! For the waters have come up to my neck. I sink in deep mire, where there is no foothold; I have come into deep waters, and the flood sweeps over me. I am weary with my crying out; my throat is parched. My eyes grow dim with waiting for my God. But as for me, my prayer is to you, O Lord. At an acceptable time, O God, in the abundance of your steadfast love answer me in your saving faithfulness." Psalm 69:1-3;13

I trust so completely in God's direction for my life, that I could never doubt his unfailing love nor his control over my plans even for a minute. A friend posted on Facebook and reminded me how important God's love is (in response to a quote about sovereignty). His love and sovereignty are so inextricably linked that without one the other is pointless. A loving God is powerless without sovereignty, and a sovereign God is merciless without love. Both are so key in understanding our lives as his children on this earth.

God is good.

"My God will provide all my needs, according to his riches in glory. He will give his angels charge over me." Some Sunday School song that is playing in my head. I can't remember the name of it, but it's stuck in my head. :)

P.S. Qualification: When I speak of God's sovereignty, it is with the understanding that personal responsibility and action in faith is just as important.

"Bless the Lord oh my soul, oh my soul. Worship his holy name. Sing like never before, oh my soul. I'll worship your holy name." 

"Praise Adonai. From the rising of the sun, to the end of every day. Praise Adonai. All the nations of the earth, all the angels and the saints, sing praise."

"Counselor, Comforter, Keeper. Spirit we long to embrace. You offer hope when our hearts have hopelessly lost the way. We hopelessly lost the way... you rescue the souls of men. You give the healing and grace our hearts always hunger for."

This morning began as any usual sunday morning would have begun: early. Mom has been a worship leader at our church for as long as I can remember (and personally, I think she does a beautiful job of it). As I rolled out of bed, a good 2 hours earlier than I would have, I was spent in every way imaginable. Physically, my body is exhausted and complains every morning, usually inflicting various back pains or head aches. It's choice of weapon this morning? A combination of both. Emotionally, yeah, don't really even want to go there. I feel very empty - I've used up every ounce of "trying to care" and "trying to process things." I was kind of done processing. Spiritually, I was incredibly discouraged. Reading my bible, praying, meditating on God's promises, and even singing worship music to remind myself of God's goodness has done little to still my restless weary soul. I'm not trying to be dramatic, but I don't know how else to describe it. The closest I can come to describing it is that feeling you get after a really really long fight, when there's no resolution. Only in this case, I didn't even know who I was fighting against. Let is suffice to say, I woke up this morning, pretty sick of life in general.

But what can you do? Life goes on - I don't know how sometimes - but it does, so you pull yourself together, you mutter another 10 second, half-hearted prayer, and you get in the car to go to church. On the way mom was worried about the set (as she usually does), which is was silly because worship went beautifully (which it usually does). But I got to church and I don't know what happened, but I finally felt like I was home. I greeted pastors, elders, friends, the worship team... These are people that have watched me grow up, the only people outside of my family. They might not know me very well, I don't tell them what I struggle with or what makes me tick. But they know me, in a weird sort of way. I guess I never really understood it till this morning. Standing up onstage I saw in the congregation children I had taught now teaching others, babies I had just met a year ago, now running around with the bigger kids, parents who's children I had grown up with, godly men who had visibly led their wives and been strong for them, women who had followed through thick and thin - this felt like family. This felt like home.

There's a very very very elderly gentleman who hasn't missed a sunday in something like 20 years, except once when he got snowed in his house, back in whatever state he used to live. He has so much scripture memorized it's coming out of his ears. He still lifts weights almost every day. He still reads. a lot. And he's constantly pouring through his bible. I've always admired the men who, in old age, talk about the lives they saved, or the battles they've fought, or the glory they achieved. But this man... he is more of a man than anyone I've met (except for Daddy of course). He might not have scars to show, but he has fought hard and well. He is a testament to God's faithfulness. He adored, protected, and provided for his wife until she passed away (I think about 8 years ago). But he still continues on. It really does amaze me.

Contrast that with my precious little Shaylynn. I taught this girl through 1st and 2nd grade. I've watched her grow and thrive at church and among her friends here. Every time I come back from college, she's always ready to run at me and give me the sweetest hug anyone could wish for. She's still quite young 11, but she's already a sweet, mature young lady. I can't wait to see what the Lord has planned for the precious girl's life.

As I sat in that high school gym, I remembered why life is important. I remembered the joy of family and friends who will always be there with you. My soul settled down, and my high strung spirit is temporarily calmed.

Fast forward 5 hours. 70-80 people have just been to our house, and you can tell. Clusters of balloons are tied to every chair, streamers and banners decorate our backyard, and the tables on our porch and littered with leftover cupcakes, fruit and chocolate, and brightly colored table cloths. Our backyard looks beautiful.

Two of my dearest friends graduated this year, and because of various reasons, were't able to have a graduation ceremony even though they graduated (they were home schooled). One of them, Devynne, has been an amazing example of encouragement and steadfast faithfulness. Through open heart surgeries, and other medical problems, she has been such an amazing picture of quiet joy and never-ending trust in the Lord and his promises. Her sister, Brenna, has been such a sweet and wonderful friend to me. We've had some awesome memories (cheez-its and llamas. Am I right?!?! ;) :)). I've seen her stick by her sister. But not only that, I've seen her define her life with joy, friendship, and endurance. I've cried with her, laughed with her, been silly and serious - all that friendship can bless two people with, that is what I've had in her friendship. I love both these girls so much, so it was such a blessing to be part of this with them.

I think that every one should hold a balloon at least once a week. I skipped around the yard with handfuls of balloons. Pinks, greens, whites, and yellows danced on the ends of bright orange strings. They followed me around like a cluster of fairies, but obnoxious and noisy. It was fun, and free, and totally childish, but so fulfilling. It was good to be able to let go like that.

So far this post is a random assortment of images and experiences, but the overall tone is one of delight. This is what I have lost. I've been so blinded by selfish despair and anxiety that I had totally lost delight. But it's back.

God loves us and made flowers pretty. I never used to understand that statement. Then for a little while, I thought I had figured it out. But now I realize I didn't really get it, and I probably still don't. But God created this world beautiful. Yes, it is fallen, but there is still beauty to be found. Rivers still sing, trees still whistle, and flowers are still pretty. This is enough to rejoice over. It makes sense.

I know this has been really random, but if you get nothing else out of this, know that there is so much to be delighted with. There is so much beauty in the world. So much gladness in youth and old age. So much life to be lived, life worth living.

“We were not created to die.” 

“We are dying to live, living to die like he did. We are bonding together, binding ourselves to one another, calling for authenticity. Our eyes, brimming, are wide open. We. have been awakened.”

A Thought for the Day:

The last week has been (for lack of a less-dramatic, more sophisticated word) totes insane. ;) I feel like my heart has not beat at it's regular rhythm since last sunday due play-induced stress, assignments turned in late, immense joy from having my mother here, and the thrills of new discoveries.

My mind feels like it's careening ahead in several different directions while my body stumbles perilously behind in order to keep the pace. And yet, it's a beautiful terrifying kind of insanity. :) A kind that I've never quite experienced before. To be honest, I still haven't been able to slow down long enough to process it all.

So this morning, when I woke up at 7 without being prompted by any sort of alarm, I knew that I had to spend some time in prayer. After getting ready for school I made my way up to our little prayer chapel, and half-kneeled, half-collapsed onto the prayer benches.

Usually when I pray the words just sort of pour out of me, unfettered by any sort of filter. At first, I thought something was wrong when, as I sat on my knees in the dimly-lit room, no words came to mind. My prayer began, haltingly and unsure. I tried to really think about what I was saying before the mighty King, and not slip into any sort of habitual process of praying. About half way through, I made a discovery.

"Lord, I pray that I would love you so much, that nothing else would matter."


Then I stopped myself. What was I saying? How often had I said these words before, without every pausing to think of the natural implications. I amended my statement.

"Lord, I pray that I would love you so much that everything would matter."


Every action, every word, every thought. All of it should reflect that love. Regardless of any formal christianese way of doing things or looking at the world, the people that I come in contact with should mean an incredible deal to me. God is reflected in each one of his children, and so each one is of inherent value. Each moment in life should be counted as precious. To go through life caring about nothing would be a complete waste. In fact, to say that you care about nothing else but God, in the strictest sense, is not caring about him at all. To think! How easy it is to use God as an excuse to distance yourself from others, hiding behind the wall of "complete godly devotion."

This thought is very raw and undeveloped, but it was so fascinating to me that I thought I should share it.

Don't have a whole lot of time to post. But I wanted to share something that I've recently discovered. I had made a goal to spend an hour with the Lord every day.
Sadly, I missed tuesday.
Thankfully, the Lord is merciful and his mercies are new every morning.

So, here's what I've been doing.:
Using an online ESV bible concordance, I looked up all references of the world "satisfy." There were 20, so I recorded them on the back and front of an index card. Then, I proceeded to look up the references in my bible (after putting my computer away so it wouldn't distract), and reading them in context. Next, I recorded the verses onto the index card, giving a line to each verse. After I had completed my search, I tried to find the themes with all the verses to learn more about what it means to "satisfy." I recorded my thoughts on the front of an index card (in very tiny writing... I had a lot to say ;) :)) And then paper-clipped the cards together.
Time: 1 hour and 10 minutes. The best thing I did all day. :)

I've since done the words "Fullness" (which has 18 references) and "Understanding" according to Proverbs (31 references). I really am so excited about this new way of studying. I don't know if this would benefit anyone, but if there's something that you really want to know more about - joy, patience, covenant, endurance, purity - I would challenge you to search through the word. Not in the same way I did, but as deeply as you can. God will certainly reward his children when they seek his council.

Blessings to you all.

The first thing I did when I entered the room was to turn off the lights. The darkness was welcome as I let myself slowly wilt leaving my bags and the other things at the door. My breath slightly shaky I walked uncertainly towards the direction of the source of any immediate comfort (aside from the Lord). Sitting down I took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and let my fingers gently rest on the cool keys. A slight application of pressure and a flow of notes came out.

I played the piano in the dark, and in those moments I allowed myself to reveal everything. My deepest desire surged as the music crescendoed sweetly and longingly. I let my mind wander aimlessly through the thoughts and emotions that I refuse to let loose in the company of others. All the passion that burns inside of me directly seeped out through the music. As my mind wandered I felt a heaviness in my heart. My throat caught slightly, as my sight threatened to be impaired with tears. But just as soon as the feeling came upon me, it left again. It was as if I was literally crying through the music, rejoicing through the melodies, and calling out with longing in the subtle harmonies.

This may seem dramatic, and to speak truth, I recognize it as such. But there are so many words, thoughts, and actions left unsaid unthought or undone that music seems like the natural venue for such communication. With music I have the opportunity to resolve anything and everything I choose. I can control how the song sounds and I can guide the song in any way I choose. I don't need to exercise patience. If I want to include a note I can add it right then and there. There is no confusion or hurt. Though there is discord it is only because I allow there to be.

Why do I keep the light off? It gives me a sense of secrecy. It removes much of the thinking element when I am not able to see what I am playing. The darkness gives me courage to unwind and to unveil the parts of my soul that ought to be kept closed in other's company. In short, it's freedom to give license to my soul for any action it takes. And for one minute I'm at peace and the world is not so unmanageable.

But eventually the music ends and the lights come on and the bags are flung once again over my shoulder and I must return from my peace to reality.

Oh, it is on such days that I desperately long for heaven.

Life has been pretty interesting as of late. The weeks of genera relaxation and normalcy have quickly faded into living minute by minute as life throws headaches, exhaustion and back pain during an already overwhelming four day period. Comforts? God is in control and the chances of me living till Saturday and pretty good, though they seem to decrease throughout the day.

Patience. I've come to think that the key to being patient is to desire the Lord more than that which you currently desire. This, though difficult, can help keep you grounded. But what about the desires that God places in your heart that you're sure have no hope at fruition? What if you desire something, but do not desire yourself to that thing which you desire? And if your desires could be fulfilled now, would you want them? And if the answer is no then why are you desiring it in the first place.

But most importantly, why would you write a random blog post filled with unanswered questions at 11:45pm, when you have to wake up at 6? :)

Yesterday I had a breakthrough. Still not quite sure how it was precipitated. My only guess is that the Lord in his mercy has been merciful and brought me out of my confusion.

I've really been thinking about how much time I spend in the word. I read the bible for about 30 minutes every morning before rushing off to the rest of my day. However, the words of Psalm 92 are stuck in my head. They something along the lines of how good it is to give thanks to the Lord, to praise his faithfulness in the morning and glorify him at night.

I read my bible in the morning because I so happen to be a morning person. But should convenience dictate when we spend time with the Lord? If you were in a relationship, or even if you are, would you wake up every morning to eat breakfast with your boyfriend/girlfriend, and try to spend a little time with them every night? (This is from a college perspective, fyi). I know I certainly would. Even if it was inconvenient, I would make sure he knew that I was there whenever he needed me.

How much more so should we seek out the Lord. In the morning, in the afternoon, and in the evening. The bible, and the psalms especially, are filled with charges to call on the Lord continually throughout the day. Not just an hour in the morning, or an hour at night.

Now I don't think it is my job or calling to shirk all of my responsibilities here at college and spend all day in the word (though let me tell you, if God was calling me to that, I would do it in a heartbeat). My calling right now is to be a devoted student and a caring friend. But I can't do that to the fullest if I am not always in the word, if I am not always meditating on the Lord and his promises.

In a conversation with a dear friend, he aptly communicated what I have been thinking for so long.

I see all that I should/want to be and all that the Lord desires me to be. Then I look at myself, and I wonder how to bridge the huge gap between the two.

Thankfully, someone has already built the bridge. In fact he built it with himself. Christ died so that we might have a relationship with God, and so that we might, in His strength, attempt to bring God glory every single day of our lives. It is because of Christ alone that we can even hope of becoming half of who we were made to be.

A senior recently said in her testimony,

The more you become like God, the more you become like yourself.

...that is, who God created you to be. Such inspiring words. :)

Life. It amazes me how so much can be packed into a single word. I say the word "life" and immediately a host of fireworks burst into my mind. These fireworks are memories: lessons learned, relationships, things I never want to forget, things I never want to remember, and the constant war that continues every day between what I do and what I ought.

I ought to wake up an hour early to read my bible, but I wait till sometime in the afternoon when I can "spare" 30 minutes or so.

I ought trust God completely and give all my worries and deepest desires to him, but I hold on to them and try to hide them, sometimes even from myself.

I ought to be selfless in my relationships with others, expecting nothing in return from the love and encouragement that God pours out through me, but I grow bitter when I feel neglected by those I have tired to be most sympathetic too.

I ought not to be so vain, but I am.


I ought to leave my hurt at the feet of Jesus, letting myself forgive and move on, but I don't.


And so I am trapped in a list of do's and don'ts and maybes, as if the more I color code, the more I get it right. Granted, I do not always feel like this. Each day I wake up and glaring back at me are my insufficiencies, so countless that I want nothing more than to crawl back in bed, or escape to my french town so that I don't have to be reminded of what a sinner I am.

Now, please don't think that I can't handle knowing how sinful I am. For the last three years, the Lord has taught me through failed relationships, intense heartache, depression, and a whole host of other modern-day demons. I realize how deep my need for a savior is. I have seen my weaknesses, and I have seen how empty life can be. I want nothing more than to lean on Christ completely.

And yet, this feeling of worthlessness wells up inside my soul the moment I put my two feet on the ground. The battle rages on and on throughout the day, never relenting till my soul, so weary from the long war it has been fighting, greedily hides in the sleep that comes so easily nowadays.

Some days are better, other days are worse, but still there is no end.

Now to change the tune


I really am doing wonderfully. Every day, I am reminded how wonderful and encouraging my friends are. On the days when I am able to read the word first thing in the morning, the rest of the day continues to be one blessing after another. I've been trying to tell people how blessed I am to be in their lives, and I have a sneaking suspicion that it comes across as insincere, but I do mean it so very much.

Every time I open the word of God, I learn something new and fascinating.

I'll conclude with the song that seems to be the anthem of my life at this moment:

This is my story, this is my song, praising my savior all the day long. This is my story this is my song, praising my savior all the day long. 

"Date a girl who reads because you deserve it.  You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable.  If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours  and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone.  If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.  Or better yet, date a girl who writes."

Please, please take me here.

As others see it: a young girl stumbles out of her dorm, runs to the cafeteria for a quick breakfast, and walks across the lobby to open the school bookstore.

As I see it: As the world slept a young woman left her house in the early hours of the morning. Her light brown bag hung over her shoulder and the ends thin scarf that covered her neck from the cold, flapped around without restrain.

She pushed her hair out of her eyes, slightly annoyed and pulled her jacket closer, snuggling under it's warmth as much as she could as she scurried down the quiet empty street. The sun had broken over the horizon only minutes before so though the air was filled with bright yellows, oranges, and purples, the sun had not yet scared away the morning chill that now followed young Belle, hand in hand, as they walked down the sidewalk together. Stopping a moment at the small cafe, Belle shook the cold away and stepped into the warm well-lit room. A few other early morning risers filled sat spread out through the small cafe. Some spoke in groggy hushed tones while others read their bibles, their backs turned so as to make it perfectly clear that they were busy. Belle found a few friends and chatted as she grabbed a warm cup of tea to permanently drive out any amount of chill that had somehow managed to hide away in her hair or clothes.

After a few minutes, Belle collected her things, grabbed a bagel, and flew out the door back into the brisk, fresh, and now completely glorious morning air.

A few minutes later and she was turning down the cobblestone road, headed for the bright green door that stood out from the sea of brown and black and grey that made up the walls
And doors of all the little shops. Belle stopped a moment to admire the small bookstore.

It was simple. A few books were displayed in the window, mounted on little pedestals that raised the books to various levels. If one stood at the window long enough they would be able to see all the way to the back of the store where an old, mahogany staircase wrapped around an old pillar that had been there longer than anyone could remember. Belle shook herself out of her reverie, and fumbled around in her bag, finally clasping her cold fingers around the even colder set of keys.

After several failed attempts to plunge the keys into their rightful place, she finally unlocked the door and entered the dark bookstore. She shivered as she was met with a rush of col air, one to rival the chill which had not yet subsided outside. She quickly slipped through the bookshelves to the tiny office where she set down her things, keeping her coat on until the cold decided to vacate the small store.

Belle flitted quickly across the store and began to tidy things up, straightening books, counting money, and restoring general tidiness to the place. She chose not to turn on the lights. She loved nothing more than to watch the room slowly fill with light, working all the while in the dimness that came before. She Knew her way around the store by heart. She sighed as her fingers slid over the bindings of the small shelf of antique books. She hesitated over one title, one of her favorites. But before she could get too distracted, an older lady burst through the door.

"Goodness girl, do you intend on living in Antarctica," the woman said as she lumbered through the store, flipping on the lights. She bundled through the store, weighed down by her own parcels.

Belle laughed, hung her coat on the stand near and set about work for the day.