carrying our cross... with help

so... my friend Lisa actually gets the credit for this.
she realized the other day, how "not even Jesus, after taking up His cross, carried it by Himself" (Lisa Spriggs, 8 December 2009).
and I realized I had actually never seen that before.
I mean. I know the story. about Simon. and how the Romans pulled him, unsuspecting, from the crowd to help the battered and bruised Son of Man to carry His rough-hewn cross through the crowds filling Jerusalem. I know the story.
but Jesus. needed help. to carry His cross.

but... then I started thinking about it...
and I looked it up in Matthew:
16:24-25: "Then Jesus said to His disciples, 'If anyone would come after Me, He must deny Himself and take up His cross and follow Me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for Me will find it.'"
27:33-33: "As they were going out, they met a man from Cyrene, named Simon, and they forced him to carry the cross. They came to a place called Golgotha."

so then I really started thinking.
we are relational people, made in the image of God, built on the concept of the Trinity. we are made to reach out to those around, and to feel them reaching to us. we are empty without people.
we are given specific crosses to carry, crosses that bring us to the ground, that weigh on our souls and our bodies and our minds, that distract us from our vocations and our callings. they are often very much our vocations and our callings, yet the Enemy is skillful, distracting us from what God would have us be focused on. they are heavy. we weep as we make our slow, and painful, way up the hill to the Place of the Skull.
yet... we have people in the crowd. we have a Simon of Cyrene. we all need this sort of friend, to fill a gap in our lives when we need it the most. God is so generous to provide us with a Simon.

actually. I have several.

God is so good. when I moved up to Portland, I was scared of a few things.
I was afraid that I'd lose the friends from home. that I'd lose the friends from Jessup. that I'd lose touch with my friends from Italy. I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to make new friends when I got up here.
but God is generous. He is good. and He is faithful.

carrying our cross can be so lonely. it is hard, it is heavy, it is a nightmare on so many levels. but we are simply not meant to go it alone. we need to look out for those around us, to take the opportunities to fill the shoes of Simon. and along with that... we need to be open to the Simon waiting for us. when they step in to help us, we need to accept their grace with grace. love their love with love.

I am so thankful for those who help me carry my cross, who bear my burdens, who sing over my sorrows, who rejoice with me. I hope and pray that I can be there for them, and for others, when they need my shoulder to cry on, to life up their cross and carry it with them.


thanks to you, my friends. thanks to You, my God.

a response...

Last summer, I had a really hard go of it - I'd made some poor choices after getting home from Europe, didn't really listen to God for a few weeks.  I wrote this poem after coming to my senses (it's already been posted on here...)


break free:
broken promise, broken dream -- he
told me what my heart could believe.
and believe I did, despite the
signs, ready as always, to turn the
tide. I need to bide my time. to
realize that there is one (of so few!)
to keep his promise, to grant my
dream, to shield me from the sigh
that inevitably escapes in relief
as soon as he starts to speak,
"I'm sorry." once he apologizes, he
has given his only gift to me --
a slightly more bruised and battered,
but ever more walled and guarded,
heart. distrust, it seems, has claimed me.
but someday I will break free.






I have learned a lot these 6 months since I wrote the above.  from God, from my friends, from Andy.  and, like every good lesson, they deserve a response:


excellent way:
a spoken promise, a gentle dream - he
tells my heart what it should believe.
and believe I will, despite the
fears, broken as always, ready to turn the
tide - I've waited my whole life, to
realize that there is one of very few
to keep his promise, to grant my
dream, to shield me from the sigh
that inevitably haunted me, to show
as soon and as frequently as he speaks,
that while sometimes he will apologize, he
has given his only gift to me -- 
a slightly more precious and healed,
and ever more  trustful and guarded,
heart.  distrust, it seems, has fallen away.
love has taught me a still more excellent way.

leaves

there are a few leaves on the trees,
clinging, shuddering in the breeze,
attempting to wait out the coming freeze.
there are a few drops in the air,
falling, landing here and there,
attempting to dampen spirits - not fair!
I think my faith is like the leaves, and
the enemy is like the rain - I am clinging,
barely holding on, digging my fingernails
into what I cannot control, yet want to.
he is flinging his poison raindrops of despair
into my eyes, onto my heavy spirit.
I know - I have to let go - the leaves must fall -
the rain drops must form puddles - and all
must go .  even when it is not fair.
but I can jump in the puddles.
I can rake together the leaves.
spring will come.
spring will always come.

dear world,

i am writing to you, to tell you about myself.  some things need to be set straight.  it seems that i have built a false image of myself,  and that needs to be torn down.  are you prepared?  this could be emotional - not for me, i have wrestled with this for quite some time.  but i hope that you are able to sort through this.
part of this, is to debunk the myths.  and part, i guess, is to ask you to help me break this false image, to bring to light who i truly am.

myth one.
i am shy.
ha.  if you knew me, and not the facade I can put on at whim, you would know this is simply not the case.  i want to have a deep and real relationship with you - but it must be reciprocal, see, or it is neither deep nor real.  so if you see me putting up my facade, stop me.  ask me the questions you know i need to answer.  please don't let me get away with half-hearted responses, or that look i can get when i'm setting my will.
i'd rather we both have a little bit of hurt feelings now, then i never grow.

myth two.
i am nice.
ok.  well.  you remember that front i can put up?  this is another facet of that.  i can look nice, feel nice, sound nice ... but the truth is, i AM a sinful person, and i don't always want to be nice.  and even when i act nice ... that's not always what i'm thinking.  i can get genuinely frustrated very quickly.  i can start to throw a temper tantrum - and i'm almost 21!  so if you see me pursuing my lips, starting to get sarcastic, or offering short and snippy responses ... put your hand on my arm.  help me hear what i'm saying and see what i'm doing.  it'll help.  i might glare at you, try to shake you off, but in the long run, we'll both be glad you did, especially if it means i didn't hurt someone.

myth three.
i don't care what you think.
hmm.  in a sense, this is true, in that i know i have an identity other than the one you decide to grace me with.  but at the same time, it doesn't mean i always remember my true identity.  i get tired - i get anxious - i want to please you - i want to blend in - and sometimes that means that i'll do anything to maintain that alluring independence.  but that's not what i want ... i want to be dependent, on my savior, on my man, on my friends, to get through my day and my problems.  it's just hard, to change who i am, overnight, or even over 3 months.  i'm still getting used to a) having a boyfriend, and b) knowing that he wants to take care of me and give me things.  so i DO care what you think about me - and i'd do anything to make sure it was all good things - but at the same time, i do want my independent dependence.  is that ok?

i guess, what i'm trying to say, dear world, is that life is far more complicated than i ever thought it would be.  i'm tired of fighting, and i'm tired of having to stand up for what i believe in.
i am a daughter, a sister, a lover, a friend - i'm not a fighter except for what's right, and not a leaver unless i'm leaving something wrong.  i'll stand by my friends no matter what - i'll stand against you for them.  i will not back down, either.

all that to say ... i think i'm lonely.  i want to be held.

a toast ...

I borrowed this from an old friend's blog.  I think I'm going to adopt it on my 21st next month.






"You see, over a year ago, I had a best friend named Gina. She and I were both single and loved to go out together. We would almost always order a glass of wine (or a girly, fruity drink in my case). One night, we decided that we should have a specific thing to toast to every time we got together. I volunteered to write the toast. I took it very seriously :). I went to a park, sat down for about an hour, and came up with the following. I know that it's mushy and girly, but deal with it!

Although God has answered this prayer/toast in Gina's life by bringing her an amazing man with whom to share her life, it is still a prayer for my own life that I hope to one day see answered."


A Toast

To surrendering our hearts to their ultimate Lover

To giving up our dreams to their original Author

To working faithfully on what our God has set before us

To our continued pursuit of righteousness and faith

To living this life we have been given listening to the voice of our loving Father and not that of the Enemy

To not letting our hopes for tomorrow speak louder than our divine calling for today

To building our character to that of Biblical proportions

To the sovereignty of the Creator’s hand and the perfection of His timing

To finding men like Timothy—passionate, mature in faith
and obedient to the Spirit’s leading

To men who are courageous in heart, adventurous in spirit, solid in faith
and strong in Godly character

To one day seeing the goodness of the Lord in the smiles of our children
and the embrace of our soul mate

And, finally, to having fun and faith while we wait.

To fun and faith!


~Amanda Hubbard

Bruce Almighty? Heather Almighty? LORD Almighty.

life, it seems, has a way of continuing on.
even when I feel caught in the twisting swirl of friends, family, studies, sleep ... life has a way of moving forward, slowly changing over time to create something beautiful out of who I used to be.
I get so tired, though, of struggling through my day - of struggling through everyone else's day, of the constant calls, texts, Skype conversations, Instant Messages, Facebook posts, that occur on an hourly basis, asking for my prayers, advice, company. as much as I love my friends, this happening makes me think of these three things:

• the scene in Bruce Almighty, when he sets up the prayers as e-mails.
• something Andy said to me, in August.
• the Love of my Father.

in Bruce Almighty, as you probably know, Bruce has been given the powers and responsibilities of God (but only in the greater Buffalo area ...). Bruce is overwhelmed by the amount of prayers he is constantly inundated with, so he tries creative ways to organize them. Post-its only annoy him, filing is disturbing. he turns to e-mails.
e-mailing is one of those wonderful inventions that are supposed to make our life easier, but have thus far only served to annoy me. there's not much I prefer over a long, hand-written letter, or a short, thinking-of-you note in my mailbox. and yet I find myself living through my e-mail account, both my personal one, and the one I use for work and school. e-mails dictate my life. and it is SO EASY to dig myself into a hole, through the time I put into e-mails, and what say in them.
similarly, when Bruce organizes the prayer requests of Buffalo, NY, into e-mails, he finds himself falling into a hole. he is unable to cope with the sheer numbers of the requests, unable to fathom the emotions and the needs behind them, unable to realize the ramifications of his decision to say, "YES!" to each and every e-mail in his in-box.
as the movie later shows, this leads to utter chaos in Buffalo and in Bruce's personal life.
my thought is this ... what makes me think that I can serve as God's e-mail router for problems, requests, and issues that arise in my life and the lives of my friends? I. Am. Not. The. Father. so why do I continually act as though I can replace Him?
it is not my responsibility to handle the daily issues that my friends face, nor to offer advice to solve their dilemmas. it is merely my responsibility to pray for them, to lend a shoulder to cry on, to point them to who CAN solve their problems.

I was fairly sick, the weekend before moving to Portland. this was a point of frustration in my life, as I had packing to finish and good-byes to make. I never did see 5 of my closest friends that weekend - my twins, Becca and Steph, or Sarah and Amy, my closest friends since 3rd grade, or Cory, my Best Man. instead, I left work early on Friday, and spent the next two days curled into my bed, sleeping, reading, and sleeping some more.
thankfully, I do have my trusty laptop - and I spent several hours Skype-chatting with Andy. I was so sick, though, that I occasionally fell asleep while we were chatting, and my poor boyfriend waited over an hour for a response to a relatively simple question.
when I woke up with a start, realizing that I had left Andy without meaning to, I apologized to him - I felt terrible! but his response both startled and soothed me.
"being with you doesn't always have to mean we're talking. sometimes, the silence on either end, is more than enough. I know you're there - I know you care about me - even when you're quiet. just like if I have a bad day, it doesn't mean I stop caring about you. I'm here for you in the silence parts of the day, too. all I need, is to know that you'll be there for me."

the thing I've learned about God this semester, in my first six weeks at Multnomah University, nestled up here at 85th & Glisan, in the Northeast quadrant of Portland, Oregon ...
the thing I've learned, is that God is there for those around me. He is more than ready and more than willing to listen to their problems, even when I am, too. He is their sufficency, their strength, their breath of life. there is nothing they can face, that He cannot handle. while He doesn't have to resort to a text message or an e-mail, He is infinitely more Instant than a Skype conversation ever could be.
He is there for me in the silences of my day. be it on the walk from class to class, the moments before I get out of bed, the seconds it takes for a call to go through at work - He is there. He is waiting with open arms to replenish my soul. to fill me up again. to show me His will for my life. it is enough for Him to know that I seek His face - but it is not enough for Him for me to simply know He is there. I know He cares for me, and I know I adore Him. but do I show it?
or am I too caught in the mentality that I can just shoot Him an e-mail, so to speak, to throw a prayer heavenwards when I need it the most? shouldn't my time with Him be more intentional? more meaningful? more precious? I know He is there when I'm quiet, just as Andy is when I fall asleep during a conversation. but I don't short-change my boyfriend on our meaningful conversations - he gets my full attention as often as I can give it to him.
how much more then, should I give God my full attention? and not as often as I can, but DAILY. each hour. each moment. offering my life as a living sacrifice - not as an e-mail, but as a letter. hand-written, labored over in love, long and full and detailed. He gave His life for mine. shouldn't I offer mine to Him?

kaleidescope.

Growing up is a scary thing --
from skinned knees to bruised hearts,
from running through the sprinklers
to running to far-away parts
that change and shift into a kaleidescope
of colors, you see, that mirror life.
Growing tall is a dangerous thing --
you hit your head on the bunk bed,
you lose your favorite jeans to capris,
it's harder and harder to keep you fed
with physical and spiritual food alike
as you dodge the flying bullets of life.
Growing in love is a hurtful thing --
do you trust him, do you flee,
do the hidden parts of you manage
to become seen, to break free
and explain who you are inside?
Because the one who stays through
memories is the one who stays for life.

thoughts.scribblings.mine.theirs.

Yearly.
if summer is the season of one's spirit,
and autumn the season of one's mind,
then winter is the time for one's body to unwind,
and spring the time to lift one again, for fear it
is lost in the yearly progression of moments.
.:hdh:.

"If God makes a way, it'd be a sin to stay;
if God closes a door, a fool asks for more."
Ryan McDarmind.

Come Out.
"if you fly away, i'll with you stay,
forever & ever again, with you in Never-land.
instead of telling stories, i could be your story,
forever & ever again, with you in Never-land ..."
.:hdh:.

"The grass isn't greener on the other side. Sorry.
If you want green grass ... Start watering your lawn."
Doug Fields.

Portland.
finding souls in the city is
rather more difficult than
finding souls in the vineyard.
the city is distracting, bustling,
caffeine-dripped.
the vineyard is quiet, calming,
dew-dropped.
but it is not the vineyard
where souls collide --
the Garden of Olives, where
decisions are made,
and the city, where
hearts are altered,
collide in the vineyard
of my memories.
i need to take the vineyard,
and the Garden of Olives,
and live in this city.
.:hdh:.

"But none of this was in my grand plan!
None of this is what I wanted in life!"
"Sometimes life has different plans for us,
than what we wanted. That's life."
Marley&Me.

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for,
and certain of what we do not see."
Hebrews 11:1

Popsicles

I don't know if you noticed,
but our childhood has flown by.
I don't know how it happened -
it was in the blink of an eye.
Somehow, I lost my wide-eyed innocence;
dolls are replaced by cars and other joys.
My mind and my efforts pursue different
choices than picking out my favorite toys.
I can remember summers long past
of fighting to catch the very last drop
of Popsicles before they melt and
land at my feet with a 'plop.'
I don't understand it; I vowed
to never grow up. But I guess
Never-never Land truly is
only imaginary pixie dust.
So choose your happy thought, hold it very tight -
and never give up Popsicles without a fight.

break free.

broken promise, broken dream -- he
told me what my heart could believe.
and believe I did, despite the
signs, ready as always, to turn the
tide. I need to bide my time. to
realize that there is one (of so few!)
to keep his promise, to grant my
dream, to shield me from the sigh
that inevitably escapes in relief
as soon as he starts to speak,
"I'm sorry." once he apologizes, he
has given his only gift to me --
a slightly more bruised and battered,
but ever more walled and guarded,
heart. distrust, it seems, has claimed me.
but someday I will break free.

untitled.

"... just to trust You."
that's a simple thing to say, to think,
but sometimes I find that it is difficult to
maintain, to keep a grip on it in the thick
of life. I shudder when life says, 'boo,'
when life throws a twist into my path
that forces me to turn my eyes back to You.
to turn them back -- that's a laugh.
I should never have lost sight of the true
guidance that I can find in the only steady
and straight aspect of my twisting and blue
tinted, frustrating life. I think I'm ready,
God, ready to trust in You, to see You
now as I should have been all along,
to realize that my take on what I see as new
is in actuality only true when I fall headlong
into this simple fact: that I belong with You.

driftwood

if the darkest moment comes before 
the dawn,
if the storm always precedes
the calm,
if confusion has to surrender
to peace,
if striving always gives way
to ease --
if Your way has to conquer 
my will,
if I must be thirsty before I drink
my fill,
will You darken my heart?
bring a storm to tear me apart?
confuse me, stir up my thoughts,
then empty me of my empty drought?
and slowly, from the broken pieces
of who I was, create Your peace
of glory in me, from these pieces 
of driftwood.

believe

I was blessed beyond my dreams tonight.

I went to the dentist, to church to take care of some paperwork, to Starbucks for a pick-me-up iced raspberry mocha before work.  it seemed a typical day.

and at work, I was just sitting, taking care of my paperwork, greeting the women as they came into Curves.  

one of the women came up to me after she finished her workout.  her name is Maria Gordon, and she is quite possibly the sweetest lady I know.

she has battled breast cancer for several years -- and she has won.  but she said that she wore a bracelet all through her years with cancer, a bracelet that has the word believe written on it.

it's just one of those simple rubber bracelets, like the ones Lance Armstrong made famous.

she slipped it off her wrist and on to mine, saying, "I've won my battle, dear, with help and with faith -- yours is just beginning.  so wear this on your journey."

after all, I'm leaving the country for three months, to take 18 units with people I have never met before, in a place that I don't speak the language, all while struggling with a headache that has lasted nearly 9 months and counting.

so wear it I shall -- each step of the way, each mini-adventure within my adventure, until I return.  and then, who knows?  maybe I'll find someone else in need of a little bit of faith, someone facing a difficult and exciting time in their life.  

or maybe I'll need it still, to get through this on-going struggle with my headaches.  maybe through faith, and prayer, I can gain back some of the strength that my headaches constantly drain from me.

and maybe I can hand it off, continuing a tradition of love and a spirit of faith.

after all, isn't that all we need?  faith in the love of Christ.

not quite sure.

so, this is just a little something I've been working on.  I don't really know where this came from or where it is going . . . we'll see, I s'pose :-)

I hadn't come home this way in a long time.  Actually, it had been seven years.  And I didn't know why I decided to take that road.  Or why I'm now writing this down.

But go down that road, I did.

The last time I'd been there, I had been a kid -- 14, maybe, on my way home from my older brother's spelling bee.  The day my brother had qualified for nationals.  The day a week before my father and brother left for Washington, D.C., and never came back.  It was the day I first saw him.

Since I had just been along for the ride, I had long since finished the book I had brought to occupy myself with.  I had resorted to counting fence posts along that long, winding country road, trying to stay awake.  But then all of a sudden, the fence posts changed.  They were bigger, simpler, sturdier.  I sat up and looked past the posts.

There was this huge, expansive ranch.  We drove alongside it for several minutes, alongside pastures full of sheep and cattle, before I saw the barns and the three houses.  Before I saw him.

At first glance, he didn't seem to be very unique.  Just a kid on a horse, trailed by two or three dogs.  Blue jeans, t-shirt, boots, baseball cap.  Good steady seat and hands as he guided his mount.  He couldn't have been more than 16 -- just another kid.

And yet . . . 

Something made me do a double-take.  Something made me look harder, to see him clearly.  And something caused me to remember his face.  It was etched into my mind, and in the horrifying weeks to follow that day, that boy's face would come to me at the strangest times, both comforting and bewildering me. 

Fog

the last few days have brought some interesting weather to this area.

there was some severe fog on Thursday and Friday morning.  when I was driving home on Thursday evening, the fog was literally overwhelming.  I could not even see the double-yellow line on the road that night, and the car that passed me seemed to be a mere reddish lump shrouded in the thickest of greys.  I was not too concerned for my safety, I knew the roads I was travelling very well indeed.  but it occurred to me that if I had not known the road as well as I do, or if I had been surrounded by other vehicles, I would have been very concerned indeed.

Friday afternoon, however, the wind picked up, and with the full force of the winter Santana's bearing down, the fog reluctantly swept itself away.  the Santana winds are a funny thing down here is Southern California.  

Santana is Spanish for Devil -- these winds are long, hot, dry winds, blowing in from the east, bringing the heat of the desert down on the cities and people of Riverside and Orange Counties.  these winds always manage to fill our streets and lawns and gutters with leaves, even in the relative "dead of winter" that we experience in this mild temperate zone.  it often seems as tho every speck of dirt in the county is swirling in the Santana air, attacking our dry and cracking lips, tangling in our suddenly static-charged hair.  the heat comes as well, shocking our systems with uncharacteristic weather for January -- 70s, 80s, and occasionally 90s as the winds blow relentlessly.

it often takes a few days for the winds to die down, but when they do, the air is clear and clean and breathtakingly sharp.  there is no longer any hint of fog on the horizon, nor will there be for some time.  the dirt has been cleansed from the air and is not hovering on the edges of the horizon -- it has been driven far away.  the full moon and the brilliantly bright stars shine down from a clear sky, glittering, turning night into day.

I think that in a way, our Christian walk is like the past few days of weather we've had.  sometimes, we get caught in some awful downs, we get cloaked and hooded and confused by the fog.  it may or may not be of our own doing, but we must deal with the consequences that develop.  I was not in any danger during my drive home that night -- but had I been a little more tired, had that other driver had a little more to drink or a little less control of his vehicle, had I not known that the road curved exactly so at that point, the night may have ended quite differently.  

but thank God I knew where I was, and what to expect along the way.  I was slow and careful even while knowing where I was going -- but if I had not known what was coming, my drive would have been incredibly different.

it's the same way with our faith.  we know where we are going.  God has given us a clear and definite picture of our ultimate futures -- we will be with Him in heaven.  and since we were designed to live there, our entire being yearns to join Him there, and to join Him there now.  we know the final destination -- but we have no idea what path He is taking us on to get there.  the roads are shrouded in fog.  we've never taken these roads before, and the directions He left us are only clear with certain aspects of the drive.  some things He has left for us to figure out, with His help, but on our own.  

soon, the winds will come.  and at first we will be grateful -- the winds drive the fog away, and we can see the roads at last.  but soon we might be cursing the winds, for there is a price to pay for the diminished fog.  we are hot now, thirsty and tired, worn-out and dehydrated.  we are caught in the devil winds, struggling for clean air, and attempting to work out our salvation with fear and trembling.

through it all, however, rather wrapped in fog or pounded by the winds, He is there.  He will guide and protect us -- He will steady our steps and soothe our chapped skin.  He is waiting for us, with clear skies and a full moon, until all the fog has been wiped away and all the winds have been calmed.  He is in control, over the weather and over our circumstances.  

"Who is this Man, that even the wind and the seas obey Him?"

it's true -- the weather does obey Him.  how much more, then, should we obey Him?  and should we not obey the One Who sent Him?  there will be patches of fog, and incredible winds, but He will lead us through all of those, and into the clear night when we can bask in the light of His glory.  may the Lord be praised, for His lovingkindness is everlasting!