Just FYI

I find myself wanting to write more. Which is a little strange, but every time I log in I stare at my last post and think, "Is there anything new to talk about?" I know that's one of the oldest and lamest excuses in the history of writing, but it truly affects me. I just don't know what to write about.

So instead I read. I read books, devotionals, pamphlets and other blogs, and you know what a lot of them say (when they're talking about writing)? Write what you know, tell your story. Well, that's good and all, but when it comes down to it, my life isn't terribly write-worthy. Heck, I don't talk about the majority of my day in my daily conversations. So what's there to write about?

I did all this thinking while brushing my teeth, and then I looked down at my new toothbrush. You know how the new ones have those ridges on the back of the brush so you can clean your tongue? I gave it a shot and almost threw up. Not a good thing with a mouth full of toothpaste. Sorry, Oral B, this is one tongue that is not going to be appropriately hygienic.

Its such a well intentioned invention, but it makes me gag. And that made me wonder, how many other well intentioned inventions disagree with people? For that matter, how many good foods, medicines, charities, churches, well intentioned ideas, words, converstations....


actually make people gag?

Working on it...

I was reading Carlos Whittaker's blog today and found a post from eight days ago. It was called, Will you please give it up?

"You are on the verge of giving up on your dream.
You are tired.
You are broken.
You are weak.
You are done.
Guess what?
You are finally at the place where you can achieve your dreams.
“For we rejoice when we ourselves are weak but you are strong” – 2 Cor 13:9

You are sitting at the place where you can give up your feeble attempt of living the Christian life and finally let Him live this impossible life FOR YOU.
So in your weakness…may your dreams finally begin to rise."

Be encouraged ragamuffins.
Los

Boy, does that speak to me. I'm starting to understand. Today I found these two verses posted by friends on facebook.

"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

"Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:
Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,
but made himself nothing,
taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to death—
even death on a cross!"

Isn't it interesting that when God made Himself nothing He made Himself a human? I am beginning to understand. Beginning to scratch the surface of starting to grasp the generality of the concept of Me = nothing without God. Our weakness makes us strong. Our "strength" makes us weak. I'm working on it...

True Solitude

"No Christian and, indeed no historian could accept the epigram which defines religion as "what a man does with his solitude." It was one of the Wesleys, I think, who said that the New Testament knows nothing of solitary religion. We are forbidden to neglect the assembling of ourselves together. Christianity is already institutional in the earliest of its documents. The Church is the Bride of Christ. We are members of one another.

In our own age the idea that religion belongs to our private life - that it is, in fact, an occupation for the individual's hour of leisure - is at once paradoxical, dangerous, and natural. It is paradoxical because this exaltation of the individual in the religious field springs up in an age when collectivism is ruthlessly defeating the individual in every other field... There is a crowd of busybodies, self-appointed masters of ceremonies, whose life is devoted to destroying solitude wherever solitude still exists. They call it "taking the young people out of themselves," or "waking them up," or "overcoming their apathy." If an Augustine, a Vaughan, a Traherne, or a Wordsworth should be born in the modern world, the leaders of a youth organization would soon cure him. If a really good home, such as the home of Alcinous and Arete in the Odyssey or the Rostovs in War and Peace or any of the Charlotte M. Yonge's families, existed today, it would be denounced as bourgeois and every engine of destruction would be leveled against it. And even where the planners fail and someone is left physically by himself, the wireless has seen to it that he will be - in a sense not intended by Scipio - never less alone than when alone. We live, in fact, in a world starved for solitude, silence, and privacy, and therefore starved for meditation and true friendship."

- C.S. Lewis

This was written in 1949. Sounds familiar...

Making Changes

When I was in New Zealand, I bought a spiral bone necklace at an outdoor market. I really love this thing, its tribal and has a fierce little design etched into it. I put it on November of 06, and have not taken it off for one day since.

Its sitting on the desk in front of me now. Something compelled me inside to just, shed it. I needed a change. I needed some piece of me outwardly to change. So I took it off. Easier said than done.

There were six knots on the string. It took me quite a bit of time just to get the first two undone. I worked and worked, but finally I realized I couldn't get the rest. They were too close to me, and I couldn't see them. I kept trying to undo them myself, but finally I resigned to go ask for help. That didn't work so well either. She got the next knot off but the rest were too complex. They were knotted over top each other, and after three and half years, were almost melding into one.

After she gave up too, I got a needle and tried to pull the tangle of string apart. You see, my problem was that I wanted to keep the necklace string intact, in case I ever want to wear it again. So I was going out of my way to try to undo these wretched knots, when deep down I knew there was no saving them. Finally, I did the only thing left I could do. When the scissors made their defining 'snip' and the bone swung down in my hand, I felt an odd mix of sadness and relief. I held it in my hand, staring at the yellow stain it has become, from soaking up all my sweat and dirt from all these years.

I was sad to see it go, but so glad to have it gone. I was comforted by having it there with me all the time, but now that its been cut from my neck, I know change is coming. I feel like this little necklace has demonstrated my life recently.

I'm making changes in my life. I'm tired of the old way. I'm tired of the old me, and my ditch-way of thinking. Last night I was encouraged to forget thinking about making new steps, and start taking them. So I started small today, I began to clean my rooms. And do you know what happened? One of the first few drawers I started to empty, there at the bottom was a letter opener, an ornate letter opener that I got in Spain and have been looking for for four years. It was like a little nod from God.

If you start getting rid of all the crap in your life, you'll find all the good things that have been buried underneath.

Deeper Roots

In a vineyard there are two types of grapevines.
The first is watered generously, and bears a lot of fruit for about two to three years. After that it won't bear anymore and the workers have to tear it out and start all over again.

The other only gets watered a little. The vine wants more water, as much as the other vine, but the workers refuse to give it more. They wait until the plant is just about to wilt, and then water it again. This puts a considerable amount of stress on the plant and puts it in a seriously uncomfortable position. The plant must dig its roots deeper into the soil, searching for the natural water that always flows beneath it. And when it finally reaches that water, its roots and leaves are stronger, and bear better fruit, up to 10 years.

Being in uncomfortable times is no fun, but its not a bad thing. Being stressed by your situation is frustrating, but its not the end of the world. In those times God is making you dig your roots deeper, to find that Living Water that is always there. And when we do reach that fount, we're stronger, we're healthier, and we bear fruit longer.

This is a thought from Alyssa Barlow, and it touched my heart. I hate the uncomfortable times when God is teaching me how to work really early, how to persevere through some mundane tasks, and more often than not, patience. I get so frustrated with the stressful times when I have no money, or I have to talk to people I don't want to talk to, or I feel lonely. But because of those lessons, I have deeper roots. I can't stand them when I learn them, but I never regret them after.

So in your dry times, are you digging deeper?



Because I think its worth it.

The Reassuring Hand of God

You know those times of your life where every thought in your head whirls around like the remains of a trailer park in a twister, never seeming to EVER land? And though more seems to add to the mix, nothing is ever answered? And you get so desperate that all you want is just one answer, just one.

Well, I can't seem to concentrate lately. On anything (that always makes prayer difficult). But I think in these times of chaos the devil takes advantage of your confusion and heaps more than your little mind can bear. Instead of just wondering about jobs, friends, money... life, the universe, and everything, he shoves in a little doubt here, a little guilt there, and whispers how bad a person you are.

I think that's been my life lately. And for me, in these times I am so desperate to hear from God because every time I do, the chaos settles like a storm. A few days ago I got to the point where I didn't know where to turn. I just needed an answer, and I couldn't think of who would be able to give me the answer. That whole night was just a slow depression easing itself onto my shoulders. And then an idea popped into my head. An idea so random I knew it was from God. Write to an old friend.

This friend was an integral part of my college life. And sadly, I haven't spoken to him in years. So I went to the computer, sat down, and just poured my heart out to him. When I hit send I said to God, "Please speak to me in this response."

The next day I got a response. It made me cry. You're told God cares about your issues, you read that nothing is too small for God to notice, but you don't really understand these things until you experience them. I was surprised at how quickly I got my answer. I was surprised at how astute my friend's answer was, something that spoke directly to my heart. ... I was surprised that I had to look up an old friend to get it. When you pray, you should believe that God will answer. And yet, I'm surprised God gave me an answer at all.

I've been praying for a few things for a long time and God keeps postponing them, giving me alternate things instead. I ask for a career that I can be in for several years, and he gives me a part-time job at a coffee shop. Stuff like that. I guess I've gotten to the point where I didn't expect to get what I asked for anymore. I always pray knowing the answer may be no, but I think I just turned that into I pray knowing the answer is no.

That's not a good thing.

But you know what is? That response. I can never understand God's love or why He cares at all, but I am grateful He does, and that He reassures me of it. And even though its still hard to concentrate, its not a twister anymore...



Its just windy.

A Grandpa Lost, or Many Gained

On Good Friday, we buried my Grandpa Gliem. And as sad as that may seem, it wasn't, really. The Friday before he had turned 90, which was a feat for his lineage; he was second youngest and outlived his entire family. And he had a massive heart attack... and broke his back in a car accident, and had a pacemaker put in...

He was a tough old guy.

He also was kind enough to give us a week to say goodbye. Most of the family got an intimate last few words with him, and a prayer. I was around a little more than my other cousins, mostly because I'm so much closer. It was a very, very strange week. I always knew Grandpa was going to die, and soon, but when it actually came around, it was surreal. But I said goodbye, and got to hear him whisper, "It's beautiful." as he stared at the ceiling.

And that is what Grandpa Gliem was always about, God. At his funeral, an uncle asked the congregation if Grandpa had ever prayed with them or asked if they knew God, and almost everyone raised their hand. It was his favorite thing to talk about, and the thing he was most passionate about. His whole life was based around Christ, and he let people know about it.

The best story is how he was ready to quit seminary after surviving WWII, because the professors were teaching that parts of the Bible were myths. At the same time, Lutheran Memorial Camp was calling for a temporary director. The seminary shipped Grandpa out as fast as they could. And by the hand of God, Grandpa touched more people's life in that little camp than he ever could have in a church. Generations of kids went through there, workers under him shuffled through the years, even his kids' future spouses worked for him. And from that he built a legacy... for God.

The most amazing quality to his story is his humble beginnings. He came from a rough start, losing his dad early, his mom on bed rest and him taking over the farm, and trying to get an education. When the war started he lied about his age to get in, and was shipped off to Burma where he almost died many times. He found God there, in that godforsaken place, and was so grateful for being rescued that he couldn't help but proclaim God, couldn't be more excited for being taken out of his old life.

And now, a power base in my life is gone. But you know what? I don't think it really has. I have another base in my life. It may not be one man, but many men, desperate to be closer to God. And their story sounds a lot like Grandpa's. Rough beginnings, a divine rescue, and eternal gratitude.

And on Tuesday I sat with these men, who were flat on their faces on the ground, crying out to God to help those in need, and nurture our weak souls. If that isn't an oak like faith, I don't know what is.

I may have lost my last Grandpa, but I feel I've gained several more.



And I think Grandpa would be proud.