Nunca Solo

The door opens and I look behind me, even though I know it isn't you.
Dismayed, I turn back to my book and wrap my hands around a chai tea latte. Even its warmth reminds me of you; your strong hands holding my cold fingers and bringing them to the warmth of your lips.

Class begins without you, and my gaze drifts beyond the window to other places. I glance at the professor and she smiles at me as though she knows.

I try to focus as we begin an activity in the book.
Senora flips through note cards to call on students.
"Eric," she pauses. "He's not here."

"Wrong," I think, and settle my thoughts with the sound of my heartbeat.

Just Breathe

I stare down at the rusty pipes of the bridge and wonder how long it will stand. Orange life preservers wait at each wooded interlude - a reminder of the brevity of life.
We have faith that when we sit, a chair will hold our weight.. Yet when God says, "Come to me, and I will give you rest," we decline a seat at his table.
Do we not realize that life is but a breeze in the palm of our Savior?

Homesickness

I can't even put my finger on what it is I miss.
The rustle in the trees, the sounds of the crickets at night -
Even the coyotes would seem welcoming right now.
The full night sky seems a world away from me as I look up and see black.

I remember that shooting star, the hooting owl -
Your promises to me.
"Never will I leave you.
Your home is with me, child."

Still I lie in wait for You;
Your words bring life.
I hold onto the quiet whisper You give
And breathe with anticipation.

"Great is Thy faithfulness, Oh God my Father.
There is no shadow of turning with Thee
Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not
As thou hast been, Thou forever will be."

Abnormally, I can't sleep tonight. Not that I tried for long, but I couldn't get comfortable. Something kept tugging at me to get out of bed and write. So here I am, in the hallway with my blanket and iTunes and blog. We've become good friends the past two years.

It's so odd to realize that I've completed half of my undergraduate career. Two years down; two to go. I feel like a completely different person than the scared girl who moved into this dorm two years ago, afraid of what was to come the next year, or even the next day. I would like to say I'm more mature, more friendly, stronger, smarter, and more carefree, but I don't know that I'm best qualified to make that assessment.

My roommate moved most of her things out of the dorm today. We put her top bunk on the floor and moved the furniture to its proper places. When she left, and the door shut behind her, all I could hear was the echo - the slam of the door, the click of the lock - and my anxieties, my girlish fears suddenly swept in with the rush of air from the door.
Alone, packing more of my things, I flashed back to that first day in the room, two years ago. I was suddenly eighteen again, unsure of myself and my future; so overwhelmed that I could only focus on unpacking clothes and books, ignoring the thought that my parents had left me in this strange place, not for merely a week or a two, but for the next nine months.

Two years later, my little sister is graduating from high school, with some of the uncertainties I had and a lot more spunk. I have no doubt she'll go far wherever God leads her.
As for me, two years after graduation I'm still unsure of what I'm going to do with my life. I remember writing my future plans for the senior edition of the high school newspaper - "I will laugh, I will cry, I will sing, and I will glorify God." Without a doubt I have done plenty of these in this past two years, and I wouldn't change that statement at all for the next two. Of course, I hope for laughter and singing more than tears, but God shown me so much this year through the tears, and I wouldn't take back any of those lessons.

Trust. Have faith in the God who knows you. Worry does nothing, but prayer does. It is good to wait for the Lord. Endure discipline. Resist temptation and fight the good fight. Believe that everything happens for the good of those who love God, and act accordingly. 

In a few months, I will be living in an apartment. I will turn 21, and appear to be 76 from the burden that 19 credit hours will bear on me. I hope to be an example, and a leader. No matter what happens, I pray that above it all - the laughter, the tears, the frustrations, and the victories - the glory will go to God alone. Not by anything I have done or anything I am, but by what He has done and who He is, will I find success and satisfaction on the journey. I pray the same for you.

"You are the Savior and You take brokenness aside, and make it beautiful, beautiful."

Strings and Deadbolts

Don't you just love conversations that remind you why you are where you are?
I asked for reminders, and God surely gave it tonight.

We. Don't. Work. Period. I doubt we ever would.
It's hard enough to carry on a normal conversation without misinterpreting each other and ending in an angry argument.

There really is no point in continuing the endless argument that was a futile attempt at friendship.
Even normal conversations end in my emotional "craziness" and your masked fury.
There is no point, there is no reasoning, there is no longer a rhyme for the tune that we used to sing so beautifully.

I am sad that our feeble attempts at friendship ended in shatters. I am sorry for hurting you, if I did, by my words. However, I am not sorry for standing up to you and speaking my mind. Telling you that you insulted me is not "crazy"; it is human. It is a very small attempt to construct a conversation with civility. Obviously, that did not work, and again, I'm not sure that it ever will.

But for tonight, at least, I can say this: I have closure. And when I say closure, I mean deadbolt.

I am who I am. If anyone plans on changing that, it's God. You have no power over that. So don't tell me I'm wrong, don't tell me how you think I am acting or reacting. Because the reality is that you don't know me, and you never really did - you never cared to learn.

And for that, I am partially grateful. I wasted two months on you, and I'm not about to waste any more. While grateful for the lessons I learned, I am also grateful that I no longer have to argue with you, or worry about misinterpreting you, or worry that I'm giving you too much affection.

The past happened for a reason.
The past is in the past for a reason.

Thank you, God, for this sure reminder.

Tie a knot on my finger and

Remind me that You have a plan for me.
Remind me that my past happened for a reason.
Remind me that my past is in the past.

Remind me that I can trust You.
Remind me that You are faithful.
Remind me that I have nothing to fear.

Remind me that discipline hurts.
Remind me that You catch every tear.
Remind me that my labor in You is not in vain.

Remind me that You go before me.
Remind me that You work all things for my good, and Your glory.
Remind me that I belong to You.

Bind these things to my heart, and let me drown in them.

We will overcome.

"Let no one say when he is tempted, "I am being tempted by God", for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire, when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death." -James 1:13-15

This flesh - this dirty, rotting flesh - tries to consume and control me. This part of me that is DYING thinks that it can help me live. It thinks it can protect me. I believe it, and buy the lie that my flesh, my sinfulness, will sustain my life.
But what I forget is that this sinfulness runs like poison through my veins. It infiltrates my thoughts, my heart, and -if I let it- my actions. I can't just drop it off like trash at the dumpster. It didn't suddenly disappear when I accepted Christ. This is a burden I will carry with me for as long as I live, until I see the sweet face of Jesus.

BUT TAKE HEART. I have a Savior who redeemed me and provided victory for me over my sins. I don't have to give in to my flesh. I can fight the good fight --- and win.


Don't give up, my friends. Hold fast to Him who sought you. Yes, it is true that:
"Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour." (1 Peter 5:8)

But it is also true that
"God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide a way of escape, that you may be able to endure it." (1 Corinthians 10:13)

Do you see? He is faithful. He didn't leave you, but he provides a way out - a battle plan for victory. So run the race, fight the fight, live the life you were meant to live. It isn't easy, but it is worth it.

"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I will not be disqualified for the prize." -1 Corinthians 9:24-27

So go, with hope: Run. Train. Win.