Don't Give Up

"Your restless heart won't win, 'cause you take but you don't give/
and you'll keep moving on until you learn what love is" Sanctus Real, Don't Give Up


hm. I need rest.

Rescue is Coming, David Crowder

There’s a darkness in my skin
My cover’s wearing thin, I believe
I’d love to start again, go back to innocent
And never leave

Don’t give up now
A break in the clouds
We could be found
And there’s nothing wrong with me
It’s just that I believe things could get better
And there’s nothing wrong with love
I think it’s just enough to believe

Rescue is coming
Rescue is coming
Rescue is coming
Rescue is coming

And there’s nothing wrong with you
And nothing left to do
But believe something bigger
And there’s nothing wrong with love
I know it’s just enough to believe

Don’t give up now
A break in the clouds
We will be found
Rescue is coming now

may the One who died be our reason for thanks

"Cling to the Crucified...cling in your grief."

1. Cling to the Mighty One, Cling in thy grief
Cling to the Holy One, He gives relief
Cling to the Gracious One, Cling in thy pain
Cling to the Faithful One, He will sustain

Chorus: Cling to the crucified, Jesus the Lamb who died
Cling to the crucified, Jesus the King
Cling to the crucified, Jesus the Lamb who died
Cling to the crucified, Jesus the King

2. Cling to the Living One, Cling in thy woe
Cling to the Loving One, Through all below
Cling to the Pardoning One, He speaketh peace
Cling to the Healing One, Anguish will cease

3. Cling to the Bleeding One, Cling to His side
Cling to the Rising One, In Him abide
Cling to the Coming One, Hope shall arise
Cling to the Reigning One, Joy lights thine eyes

-anonymous

The dying dream

What can I say, but that my God is good?

I dreamt a few nights ago that I was in a large gathering of people getting ready to be sent to the mission field. People were applying, were in training, and various other stages of the process. But I walked in, and God told me what to do, and apparently, told the others about me as well, since they did not question.

I was told to go to Africa, and that I would die there. No discussion. Go.
I remember fear in my dream. And the first thought I remember waking up to was "I'm glad that wasn't real..."

But it only took a few seconds for me to realize, my non-dream life was less scary than the dream. Not because going to Africa to serve and die was not required of me, but because I feel like it always has been required of me, and that God is faithful.

"And our questions grow in number
And their answers loom with fear
But still we ask and we trust you
Because you've held us here
With chains of grace and longing
Longing to be loved
And longing to be known

And we go on...

(All this reaching, still no grasping
Faith is there but time is passing
Are the answers in the asking
Where the weak become the strong?)"


Africa? maybe not.
My life? My death? Yes.

Are we brave enough to keep on going in?

Friend,

“Sometimes our life reminds me/of a forest in which there is a graceful clearing
…
The forest is mostly dark, its ways/to be made anew day after day, the dark
richer than the light and more blessed,/provided we stay brave/enough to keep on going in.” (W. Berry)

“Remind me, remind me of the vision You gave me…”

I can only wonder why I am allowed to be here. Why I am given the privilege of being among these women who have found such strength in Christ, when I only last week was bowed under the weight of pain caused by not knowing how to best love my family and my close friends, how to deal with apparent lack of encouragement, and with loneliness. I have no right. But then again, I have forgiveness, as do they.

These seven women with whom I am living this summer as part of the HOPE team have already played a crucial part in God’s reviving of His vision within me. I admit, we have not been living together long enough to get on each others’ nerves, but it is a blessing to see like-minded sisters pushing forward in the hope of the Gospel.

Hope has already been seen during training. Training to serve the homeless in the day shelter at Jefferson Street Baptist Center. Training to serve the residents in the Fresh Start program. Training to meet our neighbors here in the Smoketown/Shelby Park area of Louisville. Laughing with a neighbor as she made fun of me not being able to parallel park. Grieving with a neighbor as she told us about the anniversary of her 10-year-old son’s death, and how she copes and encourages others in their losses. Handing that ice water to a day shelter guest who came in from the 95 degree, humid heat. The hope is not, of course, inherent in any of these instances. Rather, it is there when the light of the Gospel shines through love. The truth that while we were dead in our trespasses and sins, Christ died for us, and in His resurrection, we too, through repentance and faith, will be raised to newness of life. This reality drives us. Love commands us.

“When my soul was dry, oh God, Your Spirit came like water
To drown me with Your love, and cover me with life
And Your waves were stronger than my faith could ever be” (Sojourn Music, “Mourning into Dancing”)

What is this life that I have been given? Sometimes our life reminds me of a forest that is mostly dark…a dark richer than the light and more blessed, provided we stay brave enough to keep on going in.

Are we brave enough to keep on going in?

Obedience when God seems not present has seemed the over-arching lesson of this past semester. And that sometimes, I think I am obeying, when what I am doing is trying to carry my own sin until it breaks me. I think I am obeying, but instead, I am trying to give people myself instead of Christ. I say I do not have time for more than short prayers throughout the day and a token verse...and then I expect joyful obedience. Praise God that neither my salvation nor ultimately, my sanctification is on my shoulders.

And praise God for community that is willing to show us that we need to fellowship with God through Scripture, prayer, and meeting together with one another. Praise be to the God who uses others to convict us when we are not searching for God, and then throwing up our hands and bemoaning our befuddled minds and hearts, and His seeming distance!

Dear God.

You turn my mourning into dancing, my sadness into laughter
My sorrow into joy,

“Halleluiah” is my song

Slower passing are the hours/To tell this tale that takes its time ("Rita," by Bebo Norman)

Memories of dreams are some of the strongest, and sometimes the most sickening, memories. I dreamed two days ago that I was drowning and that I did not realize it. That I was drowning, slowly breathing in the heavy water as I slept. And I tried to wake up. In my dream, I never did. In reality, well, I awoke a thankful and air-gasping person. I wonder if I ended up drowning in my dream.

Another dream this week, a memory plagiarized from I Am Legend. I won't describe it, but it wasn't fun. Only one person didn't want to kill me. And that was because he didn't really have the time.

Why do I mention my dreams?
Because even dreams take part in shaping my "worldview"
And because I had an interesting conversation about dreams last week.

Different accounts were given by people my age about dreams predicting or warning. And that is all that I can say on the topic right now.

"...and freedom, oh freedom, well that's just some people talkin'..." (guess it originates with the Eagles? the song Desperado/u) hm.

"sometimes I fear, maybe I'm not chosen. You've hardened my heart like Pharaoh and that would explain why life is so hard for me..." (Prove Me Wrong, Caedmon's Call)

"Now I know us plain folks don't see all the story
And I know this peace and love's just coppin' out
And I guess these young boys dyin' in the ditches
Is just what bein' free is all about" (The Island, by Paul Brady?...I like Celtic Thunder's rendition)


orthodoxy takes discernment

jar of clay

"It's in despair that I find faith
Summon the night to bow down to day
When ignorance is bliss
Save me from myself" Jars of Clay, Fade to Grey


The second line here is my favorite. I don't like people to know what I'm thinking, often. With this thought in mind, I often find the (literal) darkness comforting, because there I don't have to fake things. I can cry out to God in, as one may say, "brutal honesty." But in despair, in the discomfort I have of letting people really know me-- "Summon the night to bow down to day". A glorious thought. A glorious thought indeed.

I'm going to try to write a poem soon. I need to.