15 things that make my heart pulse...

God is being so gracious to me this summer. I am so appreciative of the interests He's given me to pursue this summer, although they are things I may never truly be good at doing.

So my time has been spent doing things I enjoy, and there are so many things that I love. Christ talks about coming to have life and have it to the full. What are the things that constitute a full life? Is it all big things or is it a composition of the small things?

I was reminded of this surprisingly through the Woody Allen movie Manhattan.

Within the film, the main character Isaac ("Ike") goes through a devastating break up with a woman and in probing psychoanalyst methods evaluates his life by asking:

"Why is life worth living? It's a very good question."

His response to his posed question includes artwork, film stars, and finally with the face of the woman he loves.

The audience naturally is led to question of themselves the same concept.

So here's my take on what makes life worthwhile:


1. The presence of the Gospel, and sharing it with others

Without this, I don't think I could live. Where would I channel all the energy that goes into worshiping my Creator? And I would definitely not be at my particular school learning how to transfer the gospel to other cultures. (The photo is of the cross at the Bethel Bible School in Mali, Africa).


2. Family (Particularly my brother)
Whew boy. I love this boy.




3. Comrades
I don't like doing crazy things by myself.



4. A Particular Someone
He's great. Smooth and soulful like a Nat King Cole record.


Alright. Those are the givens. Everyone has those. But these really get me:




5. History
I can't get enough. Give me useless knowledge. I love seeing the patterns of history. The motives, the passion; it's all so invigorating.



6. Literature
Or anything to read I guess. I'll take the box of Cheerios if need be. I guess another thing that could fall under this category is the library. Carver County never does me wrong.


7. Ridiculous Questions
Somebody's gotta ask. How many stars are there in the sky? How many times does a heartbeat in a minute? I need to know.



8. Far Side Mugs
I don't even know how many are out there, but I must have them all.


9. Pretending to be musical
Yeah. I did the piano lessons for 6 years, and dabbled in guitar in high school. But any musical ability, like the American dream, is gone.




10. Classic romances, as portrayed on the big screen in black and white, and sometimes technicolor
I secretly do want to be Scarlett O'Hara, and really all I need is, as Rhett Butler puts it, "a good kissin'."



11. Nerds and Custard
For the more refined palate.



12. Apes
Of all shapes and sizes. Great actors: tragic endings.



13. Body Pillows
You can't blame a girl for wanting to snuggle.


14. Coppolla's
Francis Ford and Sofia. My film repertoire would not be the same without them.



15. Ugly sweaters
I probably would not have discovered this little love if I hadn't moved to Minnesota.


That's only the tip of the ice cream sundae. I could go on and on (photos, hummus, art museums, craftiness), but a person has to keep some mystery.

To end this post, some wise words from the transcendentalist thinker, Ralph Waldo Emerson:

"Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not."

Spoken to by St. Augustine

I happened upon an abridged copy of St. Augustine's Confessions in a thrift store about a week ago. From the random quotes I would happen to read via Facebook statuses as well as excerpts in modern Christian literature, I decided that owning a copy would not be a bad decision. I started reading it this week with some expectations, but I did not expect to feel as though I were looking into a pool of water in reading his autobiography. I see a different, but very similar image of myself as I read about Augustine's transformation.

I just want to include some quotes that really hit my core (and I am sure there will be many more, as I am only up to book 8 of 13).

"Narrow is the mansion of my soul; enlarge Thou it, that Thou mayest enter in. It is ruinous; repair Thou it. It has that within which must offend Thine eyes; I confess and know it. But who shall cleanse it?"

"But no one doth well against his will, even though what he doth, be well."

"I was grown deaf by the clanking of the chain of my mortality, the punishmenet of the pride of my soul, and I strayed further from Thee, and Thou ettest me alone, and I was tossed about, and wasted, and dissipated, and I boiled over in my fornications, and Thou heldest Thy peace, O Thou my tardy joy!"

"I loved not yet, yet I loved to love, and out of a deep-seated want, I hated myself for wanting not. I sought what I mightlove, in love with loving, and safety I hated, and a way without snare."

"To love then, and to be beloved, was sweet to me; but more, when I obtained to enjoy the person I loved."

"Why is it, that man desires to be made sad, beholding doleful and tragical things, which yet himself would by no means suffer? yet he dires as a spectator to feel sorrow at them, and this very sorrow is his pleasure."

"How did I burn then, my God, how did I burn to remount from earthly things to Thee, nor knew I what Thou wouldest do with me?"

"My native country was a tormetnt to me, and my father's house a strange unhappiness; and whatever I had shared with him, wanting him, became a distracting torture. Mine eyes sought him everywhere, but he was not granted them; and I hated all places, that they had not him; nor could they now tell me, "he is coming" as when he was alive and absent."

"Only tears were sweet to me, for they succeeded my friend in the dearest of my affections."

"Let us now, O Lord, return, that we may not be overturned, because with Thee our good lives without any decay, which good art Thou; nor need we fear, lest there be no place whithre to return because we fell from it: for through our absence, our mansion fell not- Thy eternity."

"But Thou, O my God, hads alraeady taught me by wonderful and secret ways, and therefore I believe that Thou taughtes tme, because it is truth, nor is there besides Thee any teacher of truth, where or whencesoever it may shine upon us."

"For fairer is the modesty of a candid mind, than the knowledge of thsoe things which I desired; and such I found him in all the more difficult and subtle questions."

From that compilation of quotes, it isn't too difficult to gather what I am feeling through reading. I am being reminded of my sinfulness, and of how I have strayed from God even despite being in Christian community. I have become so absorbed within myself that I have chosen not to glorify the Almighty. I feel so burdened for the world, especially being in Montana for a few weeks before going to Hungary.

Everywhere I look it seems that their are hurting people. The corners of the library are occupied by homeless individuals, reading copies of Curious George and other children's narratives. Elderly occupy the tables with their large print "Reader's Digest". Pictures of loneliness plastered on their faces. Today as I was looking for a book, a sweet little girl came up to me to tell me all about her books. She had so much excitement and joy about these two books she had found, and I could only nod and smile in agreement. She continued in her excitement to her mother two rows over, and the mother, in desperation and on the verge of tears told her to be quiet because daddy was trying to find something. It sounded of great importance and urgency. This little girl's joy was squashed by the tremors of societal strain on her parents. My heart broke.

I can't escape these things. When telling someone about the situation and the hopelessness of it all, they responded with "What can you do but pray, eh?" I was immediately unsatisfied with this response, but then I kept thinking about it. Overall I have a very difficult time with prayer, because I feel like it doesn't make much difference, but what if I truly committed to prayer for this cause, for all of these hopeless people in this dead end town? I think for the time that I am in Billings, because I do not have much else to do, I am going to try and commit to going to the library to pray everyday.

My prayer is going to make a difference. A lasting one. Instead of just plastering a band-aid a sinking ship, I'm going to make a kingdom impact. The blood of Christ will soak individuals in this town, and they will know peace, and they will know hope, and they will know HIM. I am praying that in addition to this, God will give me ideas on how I could serve people if only for the few weeks I'm here. I just want to love on people. Please, Lord God.

Where do I go now?

I'm at a loss. The summer is here. Freedom. Elation. A chance to thrive.

But if I don't start well...well, I won't go anywhere.

I wish I could input some Biblical passage into this post to be inspiring. I wish I could show you that I have been to the depths of the Word, and that I have consumed every line, every page.

But I haven't.

God has revealed himself to me through the people in my life... but I want to be consumed, burning with desire to always be in scripture. Seeking solitude to practice prayer.

I think in order to do so I will have to return to methods of traditional Christianity. Some forms of routine. Some forms of ritual. I have molded into modernist views of Christianity, which isn't necessarily bad. But I need Him. And the ways I've been trying to reach Him are futile.

Transform me this summer, Lord God. I must have it.

Wick is Life

"It's as wick as you or me," Dickon said; and Mary remembered that Martha had told her that "wick" meant "alive" or "lively."

"I'm glad it's wick!" she cried out in her whisper. "I want them all to be wick. Let us go round the garden and count how many wick ones there are." She quite panted with eagerness, and Dickon was as eager as she was. They went from tree to tree and from bush to bush. Dickon carried his knife in his hand and showed her things which she thought wonderful.

"They've run wild," he said, "but th' strongest ones has fair thrived on it. The delicatest ones has died out, but th' others has growed an' growed, an' spread an' spread, till they's a wonder. See here!" and he pulled down a thick gray, dry-looking branch. "A body might think this was dead wood, but I don't believe it is--down to th' root." {The Secret Garden}

With spring exploding in Minnesota, I can't expel one of my favorite literary passages from my mind, because what I face on each walk outside is the newness of life. Life proves to be everywhere.

But I am constantly being reminded that there is no life outside of Christ. Christ is wick. His spirit is life. Have I truly allowed it to fill me?

Life is an entity not self contained. It spreads, produces, procreates, struggles, survives. Ultimately, the love of God can be equated synonymously with life. Without love, there is no existence of life.

The state of my heart lately has resembled the secret garden. Closed. Feigning death. I haven't allowed people in, nor have I taken the effort to prune my branches or cultivate my life so that it produces life. Who should break into my heart to find its love for mankind and God except for Christ? Through Him, my heart is a garden cared for by a gardener, who wishes that more flowers should grow in a planned method. Even the wildflower seeds are scattered in a particular matter.

Although my love has been self contained, this summer it will bloom and grow. I am ready to be challenged and strengthened through ministry. My prayer is that at the end of summer, my heart will fully reveal the life it contains through Christ.

A passage that perfectly reflects the promises of God that are coming for all believers is evident in Jeremiah 31:11-13, which reads:

¹¹ For the LORD will ransom Jacob
and redeem them from the hand of those stronger than they.

¹² They will come and shout for joy on the heights of Zion;
they will rejoice in the bounty of the LORD—
the grain, the new wine and the oil,
the young of the flocks and herds.
They will be like a well-watered garden,
and they will sorrow no more.

¹³ Then maidens will dance and be glad,
young men and old as well.
I will turn their mourning into gladness;
I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.

A "well watered garden." It is coming, dry heart.