Never Alone

So I've been feeling rather alone lately. I've been feeling like I'm going through something entirely, horribly unique. But in the last 5 days, I've had talks with 2 people who are in varying stages of my exact confusing frustration. I know the Bible says that the Lord will never leave you nor forsake you, but it's also very encouraging to know that He gives you human bodies to commiserate with. Sometimes you really need that human body to let you know that you will be actually able to make it through. I made the mistake of praying that God would use our vacation to change me, to change my outlook. I wanted to see myself as He sees me. I had all these romanticized notions of a magic "poof" moment where all would finally be fixed and amazing. Unfortunately, before I can see myself in that advanced state, I get to see all the ugliness that needs fixed. Yay. But at least I know I'm going in the right direction. Joey had a picture in his head a while back of us standing on the close side of a giant cavern, with God on the other side reaching out His hand to us. The path we had been on ended at the cavern's opening. On God's side, it was a wild, untamed wilderness. We could either choose to stay on our side of the cavern with its clearly marked path, or take God's hand and jump across. Once we would go across, we would be unable to get back across to the 'safe' side. Also, once across, we would have to stick closely to God so as to not loose our way. We're well into the wilderness now, and sometimes I lag behind and lose sight of God. Thankfully, He's got one eye on where we're going and one eye on us. I have a feeling it's going to be a wild journey. Here goes nothing!

Independance Day

Exactly 14 years ago, I sat next to a lake on the campus of Teens Missions in Cocoa Beach Florida and watched the fireworks. As I sat, I got up the nerve to talk to one of our counselors about the decision I had made that evening during the program. Even after growing up in the church, I decided I hadn't really lived like I meant it. So I made the decision to re-commit myself to the walk of faith I thought I had been living. I've been questioning that walk ever since. Not in a bad way, mind you. I've simply been asking myself why I do what I do, say what I say and believe what I believe. And ever since that night, every July 4th, I watch the finale of the fireworks and think "God is celebrating with me." Tonight was no different. It was truly a Jersey Shore moment, we were watching from the docks, and when the finale ended, all the boat horns sounded in appreciation, and then someone cranked up Springsteen's "Born in the USA." And while I am glad to be celebrating the 231st birthday of my beloved country, I'm even more excited to be celebrating 14 years of glorious questioning. Because in my questioning I'm finding answers, and my answers lead to learning and knowing more. My father always asks, "Did you learn something new today? Then it's a good day." Happy Birthday America, here's to a good day!

Empty

So none of the other people here seem to have really active faith lives. And I'm realizing how empty a life is if it doesn't have a purpose given by God. I see these people living their lives and I wonder, do they just think they'll go through and this is all there is? Just get older and fade away? My brother is doing a Bible study on a John Piper book, and I was struck by the example of a older couple who had retired and their lives consisted of playing softball, sailing their 40 foot trawler and looking for seashells on the beach. Piper makes the comment, what are they going to do when the get to Heaven and stand before the Lord? Stand there and say "here God, look at my shells!" Granted, I know my purpose involves being here on this beach this week. To meet Craig, our minister neighbor, to share love with the mother of 3 who has been hurting for most of her life, to be an example to the rambunctious 11 year old boy who doesn't understand discipline and to let Joe's dad see what life can be like when you have a guiding hand in it. He just watched his mom pass away, and I know death is so much more imminent now to him, but we want to show him that it's not the end. It is becoming evident that although this week is about rest and rejuvenation for us, it is also still ministry. Our life is ministry. We are an open book for the people around us to read the story of what God can do in a life. I pray that our story is read, understood and internalized.

Patriotic Hymns, Little Kisses and the Color Green

So we arrived at LBI yesterday before everyone else in the group which was nice. Gave us a chance to get acclimated and spend some quiet time on the beach by ourselves. Also gave us a chance to meet our neighbor for the week, whom we found out is a minister who is friends with a pastor we know at First Assembly in Bayonne. Small world. Just a way of God letting us know that even with all the insanity of the last couple of days, He's still orchestrating this concert of our lives.
We biked around town a bit to get the lay of things and found a little Methodist Church that looked promising for service this morning. We confirmed with our neighbor that it was an ok place to go, and off we went this morning. Majority of the folk there were of the wise, white haired variety (one of the little choir ladies just celebrated 97 years this week), but there was a familiarity that put me at ease. We sang "God of our Fathers" (or God of the Ages as it is in the new PC hymnbooks...) with its trumpet intro. I imagined my dad's voice singing the exact same song back in Ohio today. I always love hearing him sing that one. The tenor line can get pretty high, and I could picture the way his forehead stretches out for him to hit the notes. The "prayer song" as it was labeled was "ask and it shall be given unto you..." a verse from an old camp song. Even more poignant today as I was asking to be freed from the guilt and pain I've carried for so long.
I was also able to genuinely laugh today. The pastor had gone into a time of silent prayer, as indicated by the bulletin, and it had gone not more than 15 seconds until the pianist (another wise, white haired lady) started playing robustly the offertory song "God Bless America". The pastor was a very theatrical man who looked up, looked back, went back to her piano and pointed to where they were supposed to be in the bulletin. She finished the line with a quiet flourish and he hugged her shoulders. I joined the rest of the congregation in laughing not at her, but at our own mix ups and failings. Knowing that when we do mess up, God turns around, points us in the right direction and gives us a hug.
I am amazed that God finds ways to give me little kisses of joy and peace just to let me know that He hasn't quite forgotten me yet. I may scream and cry to Him that He has, but He hasn't. Every little detail is in His hand. We went back out on the beach this evening for a walk with Joe's dad. As we walked the sun was setting over the bay on the other side of the island. The pink and purple sky reflected on the sand and the water, making the water turn the loveliest shade of green. I intensely dislike the color green. I think it makes me look sick if I wear it, I admonish Joey for using it in lighting schemes and I refuse to eat mint chocolate chip ice cream (I have more against the chips than I do the mint, but still). But the water in the evening is this beautiful shade of green against blue that looks like stained glass as the wave begins to crest. And I think to myself, surely God is here. Surely He is real and surely He loves me and has not forgotten me. But it isn't just here that He loves me. He loves me in the city when it is grey and dreary and I haven't seen the sun for days. Here, though, He reminds me with kisses of joy and the patriotic hymns my father sings so masterfully. Here I am reminded I live in a country where I am still free to worship how I choose when I choose. May I never choose to stop.