Three years later...

It has been a good three years since I last posted on here. Shocker. Some things have changed since I last posted on here, but so much has stayed the same. I can't keep a journal going on a regular basis, much less a blog. But that's okay. I'm learning that some things stay as they are only for a season. I don't know whether that is more difficult to see in a season of hardship or a season of peace and restoration. I am still patching up my wounds from the last season - one of incredible hardship - but I am slowly seeing restoration take place. In the place of wounds comes peace. Given everything that transpired in that season of hardship it is evident to me that it is only through the power of God that I am not still aching.
There is absolutely nothing I could have predicted about this year in New York when I made the decision on April 1, 2015 to move here. Nothing. I have been challenged spiritually, mentally, and emotionally in ways I never could have imagined. In some ways it is honestly a miracle that I am sitting here in my 650 sq. ft. apartment in downtown Manhattan writing this. I'm still dealing with growing pains of course. Who would have thought I would ever buy a planner? Or plan to get a tattoo? (If I don't chicken out, that is) Or go to church by myself? I am starting to notice the pieces in me that New York and the wonderful people in it are molding.

Thoughts for the week:
One of my professors tells us before every quiz that we shouldn't sacrifice our integrity for a quiz point. It's a pretty great way to tell us not to cheat. He emphasizes that our integrity is worth more than a grade. It has gotten me thinking what else is worth more than a grade. Another professor told my class not to kill ourselves to get a 4.0 GPA. I am here for school and I want to do well, but if getting an A requires me to sacrifice that which makes me flourish than is it worth it?

My school has a worship night every two weeks where a faculty member usually speaks. This week the professor spoke about prayer. He said that we shouldn't think of prayer just as a way to ask/tell God things, but that prayer is often a reminder to ourselves that we are not in control as we lay down our problems at the foot of the throne of God. He also said that since God is sovereign he already knows what is heavy on our hearts and sometimes he answers prayers before we even pray.

The Dog Days Are Over

Today was full of talk. It was full of laughter. It was full of promise -the promise of a new season.

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven." Ecclesiastes 3:1

Two of my friends and I are starting a bible study/book club/pray meeting. Last year the three of us, along with some other girls, came together to fight against something we believed was wrong. Through that we came to the idea of starting a bible study. But we didn't want to do a fill-in-the-answer type of bible study, so we decided to pick a figure in Christian history to read about, in addition to reading a book written by this person. We chose Francis Schaeffer. We have not completely settled on which books but we are looking at:

Francis Schaeffer: an Authentic Life by Collin Duriez



True Spirituality by Francis Schaeffer



The God Who Is There by Francis Schaeffer



The Mark of the Christian by Francis Schaeffer

Grateful

I want to always be grateful. 

To be grateful for the good things. And to know, truly, that they are good. 

To be grateful for the bad things. Because God works all things for good. 

I want to travel and visit beautiful cities and new countries. And though many doors have opened God has not yet provided a door stopper for this city. 

Grateful. 

But that does not mean I will not be traveling in 2013.

"Concrete jungles where dreams are made of"

Andddddddd as of now I will be seeing Big Ben the Elizabeth Tower in person this fall. 

Broken

"What if your blessings come through rain drops,
What if Your healing comes through tears,
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near,
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise"

My heart has been broken. It breaks for those who heard about the 'Jesus Rain Drops' but never felt them. It breaks for those who hid, afraid of condemnation. It breaks for those who were turned away. 

We are told to not to conform to the ways of the world (Romans 12:2), but as soon as those words come out of our mouths we become hypocrites. There are obvious things that we are not supposed to do as they are of the world -lie, cheat, drink excessively, take drugs, have sex before marriage, etc- but what about the areas of the world that are not so black and white -or rather, visible? 

Charles Spurgeon said, "Discernment is not simply a matter of telling the difference between what is right and wrong; rather it is the difference between right and almost right." 

Often, we as Christians pride ourselves on not being of the world because we have rid ourselves of the visible alterations caused by the world. From the outside we look "good" but what about the inside? What about our attitude towards the world? Do we think we are above it? If so, this not only comes in conflict with God's commandment of making disciples throughout all the world (And he said to them, "Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation. Mark 16:15), but it also can affect other Christians around us through how we treat them. 

Do we want hiding and hurting hearts, caused by us, among our brothers and sisters in Christ? Do we turn them away at the door because of the trials and burdens they carry?

Are these actions brought on by the love of Christ in our lives or by the world which we continue to carry in our hearts?

Dear Four Story Wood House,

 You are large, not small. You are wood, not brick. My childhood has mostly been spent on the third floor. My bedroom walls were white -left blank for the imagination- until I decided that I wanted to live in the clouds. Blue. The carpet is gray. Long and soft. It was the same throughout the house, except for the deep magenta in my parents room. Wallpaper lined the walls throughout the living room and kitchen. Now the wallpaper has left is for good. Replaced by sunny days. Always full of books, enough books to fill a library. Memories will always line your walls and fill your holes and cracks.

One of My Favorite Things...

One of my favorite things is spending time with my family, with laughter bouncing off the walls. 
Outside my window a woodpecker pecks on the side of the house. 
I am thinking about how I am undeserving of His grace. 
From the kitchen comes food from love touched hands. 
I am wearing beauty on my sleeve to hide my imperfection. 
I am reading ten books about Theodore Roosevelt, all telling the same stories ten different ways. 
I am hearing my cat scratching at the door. 
I am hoping for lifelong friends. 
Around the room books are everywhere. 
I am going to be okay, because God is good. 
I am thankful for the unconditional love my parents have given me. 

Sunshine Days

"The singing and the songs we sang told something about the times in which we lived. It had always felt like the hamlet and all it stood for must last forever. But change did come... in the fields and across the whole of the country. It was called "progress". But those old ways live forever in the human heart."