the goal.

so today is my last day....

tomorrow morning i fly

with love.





-

lovelovelove

Excerpt from A Severe Mercy. It's the story of a couple whose initial "high pagan love" for one another is eventually assaulted and sanctified by a greater love—God's love.



The author recalls a "revelation" he received as a yet unsaved fifteen-year-old:

He had been wont to despise emotions: girls were emotional, girls were weak, emotions—tears—were weakness. But this morning he was thinking that being a great brain in a tower, nothing but a brain, wouldn't be much fun. No excitement, no dog to love, no joy in the blue sky—no feelings at all. But feelings—feelings are emotions! He was suddenly overwhelmed by the revelation that what makes life worth living is, precisely, the emotions. But, then—this was awful!—maybe girls with their tears and laughter were getting more out of life. Shattering! He checked himself: showing one's emotions was not the thing: having them was. …

What is beauty but something that is responded to with emotion? Courage, at least partly, is emotional. All the splendour of life. But if the best of life is, in fact, emotional, then one wanted the highest, purest emotions: and that meant joy. Joy was the highest.

How did one find joy? In books it seemed to be found in love—a great love. … But in the books again, great joy through love seemed always to go hand in hand with frightful pain. Still, he thought, looking out across the meadow, still, the joy would be worth the pain—if, indeed, they went together. If there were a choice—and he suspected there was—a choice between, on the one hand, the heights and the depths and, on the other hand, some sort of safe, cautious middle way, he, for one, here and now chose the heights and the depths. (18)












-

my next christmas party

what a grand idea:

http://katiedid.squarespace.com/

-

falalalala.

merry christmas backwards.

.

i love him.

John Piper says "God's world--all of it--rings with wonders. The imagination calls up new words, new images, new analogies, new metaphors, new illustrations, new connections to say old, glorious truth. Imagination is the faculty of the mind that God has given us to make the communication of His beauty beautiful."


----------------------------------------------

i love my hometown.

i fly out of my little beach town to my beloved midwest in 3 days...
i haven't been home for more than 36 hours for an entire year!

my heart is so full of love.
my precious little sister is having a baby...
the timing may seem a little off,
but God delights in showing mercy -
and we are overjoyed to bring a new one into our big crazy family.

we have issues, no doubt, but we have love
(and confidence that He who began a good work,
would be faithful to complete it)

words are swirling around that it may indeed be a white christmas.
i've never appreciated (nor anticipated) time off work as i have this next little stint.
the onething conference is coming, and a new year never goes by that doesn't
hold beauty for the spirit and a true marking of my heart.
i can't wait for the gift of God for this time.

how glorious that even though God gave the greatest gift of all
2000 years ago... he still continues to give...
to those who are weak.

He truly is glorious.


---------

ooooooooooo

soooooooooooooooooooo:

you sing over me,

a high harmony,

and i eat your words like cake.

let it arise.

one of my favorite lines:

into the river, i will wade
there my sins are washed away
from the heavens mercy streams
of the Savior's love for me

i will rise from water's deep
into the saving arms of God
i will sing salvations song
it's what the Lord has done in me.

hosanna,
to the Lamb that was slain
hosanna,
Jesus died and rose again






&hallelujiah.

nostalgee.a

this reminds me of my highschool years...
when i sat(and sit) alone, and think,
that is what is in there...

fairytales and magic and distressed photos.

that, and a cloudy Jesus...
because we see so dimly.



enlighten my eyes.

questions of the day

questions of the day:

Jesus, what is it you feel for me today?

What are you thoughts towards me?

How are your emotions stirred by my life?

Will you remind me again who I am?

time time time.

in the midst of simple community last night
i was reminded of a utopia

that doesn't exist.

i want to live free.

i want to be alive.

i want to love where i am at.

yet still hunger.

still long.

still thirst.

still be lovesick.

and still pant for Him as a deer pants for the waters.

the great dichotomey.

(and isn't that all life is)

as j. upton would say so eloquently,

"He lives in the tension..."

you decide what's beautiful.

you decide what's glorious.

*****

"He is Beauty. We are Beauty in the making."

i have so much to learn.

my life is marked by potential.

sadly, potential is greatness in its formative, pre"great" stage...

it's the egg before the swan,

it's the promise before the fulfillment,

it's birthing the wind - over and over again

(as the prophet isaiah would say).

i'm sorta sick and tired of it.

ricky helps me focus it all in,

but i don't see much progress myself.

one day i want to spend hours sewing my future babies wadrobe,

then i want to make wedding invites and graphic design work,

then i want to read and read and read and study every commentary

on the major prophets,

then i want to make music,

and the list goes on (in all its phases and forms).

but reality is:

i wake up and drive an hour to work, usually listening to NPR,

and fill hours 8-4 with work and what not,

to again drive home to the sounds of san diego.

there we find a bed to be made, dishes to be done, and a meal to be cooked.

when it all settles, i just want to talk with ricky, who crawls into the door

2 hours after the sun has already hidden its face, and still has 4 papers to write.

i squeeze in reading the Word and scraping up signs of life within the jar of my soul.

sometimes we wonder about our dreams...

or the prophetic promises,

or that little seed within we've been watering for years.

but i remember, back in january, when i said goodbye

to the one place i ever felt at home,

and the one people i fully came alive within,

when i was running amuck 6 days a week within a small, windowless restaraunt,

there was this little tune i use to sing as ricky read page after page about

islam politics and foreign affairs.

"david, he hung out in caves,

and joseph was in dungeons,

but i will sing your praise."

so the walls are slimey rocks

and the chains are reasons to rejoice.

for He has not forgotten me.