cap’n'gown

Yipes, ’tis for real. I got them yesterday, along with my hood’n'tassel. I woke up at 4 AM, too excited to sleep. I even flipped on the light to make sure they were real. They were. And I’ll be wearing them on Sunday.

Joyfully.

Also at 4 AM, I read Romans 4. Verses 18-21 reveal Abraham to a stunningly faith-full man, who believed in a God, who to this day, and through all eternity, is stunningly promise-keeping.

“In hope he believed against hope, that he should become the father of many nations, as he had been told, ‘So shall your offspring be.’ He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was as good as dead (since he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah’s womb. No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.”

May I be that trusting, believing in hope against hope, fully convinced of my God’s abilities to do what he has promised.

Final final

I finished graduate school last night, taking the last exam of my educational career. I sat there for a few minutes after completing the test, staring at it, not really believing that I was done. I didn’t feel sentimental or nostalgic – it’d be hard for anyone (except for some hard-core statisticians) to get worked up over a final on quantitative analysis, confounding variables, and nonparametric tests. I got a little emotional on the phone when I called home afterward; there was such a sense of relief, an overwhelming sense of “doneness”, and a deep sense of gratitude to the Lord for bringing me through.

Hard to believe, this.

So now, I begin a whole new journey as a productive member of society. In August, Lord willing, I’ll be a Speech-Language Pathologist in a public school. It’s nice to be employed (or to be “pre-employed” until I officially sign the contract).

In the meantime, I’m applying to the zoo. Seriously. I’m doubtful that I’ll actually get that job, but if I do, I’m sure I could teach the lions a thing or two about protecting their vocal cords.

Onward.

Psalm 150 seems so appropriate right now (ok, it’s always appropriate):

Praise the Lord!
Praise God in his sanctuary;
praise him in his mighty heavens! 
Praise him for his mighty deeds;
praise him according to his excellent greatness!

Praise him with trumpet sound;
praise him with lute and harp!
Praise him with tambourine and dance;
praise him with strings and pipe!
Praise him with sounding cymbals;
praise him with loud clashing cymbals!
Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord!

hilarity ensues

A 1999 Letter to the Editor of National Review on the clunky term, “Congressperson”. It is best read aloud.

Dear Mr. Buckley:

Ms. Ellen P. Ward’s letter to you regarding the use of “Congressperson” when referring to a member of Congress does not go far enough. Since the last syllable (son) refers to the male gender, the politically correct term of address for a female member of Congress is “Congressperdaughter.” This, then, brings into question the use of “female” to refer to a member of the feminine sex. Again, the politically correct term should be “feperdaughter” (God created them male and feperdaughter). This gives rise to other absurdities, such as “woperdaughter” for “woman,” “huperdaughterity” for “humanity,” “woperdaughteracles” for handcuffs used on “feperdaughters.” It then makes a work written by a “woperdaughter,” a “woperdaughteruscript.”I’m sure that I need not belabor the point.

Sincerely,William F. Brna Monongahela, Pa

Mayday! Mayday!

No, really - happy May Day to you all.

The trees are budding, so spring is here. Yes, even in Wisconsin.

Happy sigh.

Planting Weeds?

You won’t find crystal

In a Styrofoam cup,

Just like you can’t swim in concrete

And you’ll never fall up.

And you can’t get to Heaven

By your good deeds

Just like you won’t grow flowers

When you’re planting weeds.

“And to him who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness.” Romans 4:5

Football bashing

No, not really . . . I do love my Eagles, but I sure got a kick out of George Carlin’s comparison of baseball and football.

“Baseball is a 19^th century pastoral game.

Football is a 20^th century technological struggle.

Baseball is played on a diamond. In a park - the baseball park.

Football is played on a gridiron in a stadium (sometimes called ‘Soldier Field’ or ‘War Memorial Stadium’).

Baseball has the 7^th inning stretch.

Football has the 2 minute warning.

Baseball has no time limit. We don’t know when it’s gonna end. We might have extra innings!

Football is rigidly timed and it will end even if we have to go to sudden death.

Finally, the objectives of the 2 games are totally different:

In football, the object is for the quarterback, otherwise known as the ‘field general’, to be on target with his aerial assault, riddling the defense by hitting his receivers with a deadly accuracy in spite of the blitz, even if he has to use the shotgun. With short bullet passes and long bombs, he moves his troops into enemy territory, balancing this aerial assault with a sustained ground attack which punches holes in the forward wall of the enemy’s defensive line. . .

In baseball, the object is to go home. And to be safe - “I hope I’ll be safe at home!”

Good stuff.

scientific supremacy?

I just read Dave Berg’s article at nationalreview.com on Ben Stein’s new film Expelled, which exposes “Big Science” (i.e. nearly all institutions of “higher” learning in the U.S.) and it’s stonewalling of any discussion regarding the possibility that evolution might not be true. I found this statement by Mr. Berg to be particularly revealing, as he gets to the crux of the issue.

“The film’s endeavor is to respond to one simple question: ‘Were we designed, or are we simply the end result of an ancient mud puddle struck by lightning?’

Big science doesn’t like that question because they can’t answer it. Underneath their antagonism toward explanations that suggest an intelligent cause, lies a fundamental egoism. Science wants to deny any evidence of a supreme being precisely because it wants to be a supreme being.”

The apostle Paul would agree with that idea. He wrote the following in Romans 1:21-23:

“For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things.”

Big Science, you lose.

A new favorite song - soothing & sweet

I could not do without Thee
O Savior of the lost,
Whose precious blood redeemed me
At such tremendous cost.
Thy righteousness, thy pardon
Thy precious blood, must be
My only hope and comfort,
My glory and my plea.

I could not do without Thee,
I cannot stand alone,
I have no strength or goodness,
No wisdom of my own;
But Thou, beloved Savior,
Art all in all to me,
And weakness will be power
If leaning hard on Thee.

I could not do without Thee,
O Jesus, Savior dear;
E’en when my eyes are holden,
I know that Thou art near.
How dreary and how lonely
This changeful life would be,
Without the sweet communion,
The secret rest with Thee!

I could not do without Thee;
No other friend can read
The spirit’s strange deep longings,
Interpreting its need;
No human heart could enter
Each dim recess of mine,
And soothe, and hush, and calm it,
O blessed Lord, but Thine.

I could not do without Thee,
For years are fleeting fast,
And soon in solemn oneness
The river must be passed;
But Thou wilt never leave me,
And though the waves roll high,
I know Thou wilt be near me,
And whisper, “It is I.”

- Frances Havergal

The pope makes me mad

Ok, not mad in the sense of insane, and the pope doesn’t really make me feel angry. It’s more that the whole idea of this man, (yes, man)  being worshipped by people around the world, and this country in particular right now stirs me up, gets under my skin. The hullabaloo in the media has been rather magnificent - you’d think that Jesus himself had stepped on to American soil this week. Hmmm.

I’ve heard Catholics say that they don’t worship this man, that they just “venerate” him . . . strange - it looks a lot like worship to me. They bow, they kiss his hand, they are thrilled just to “breathe the air he’s breathing” as I heard someone say on the radio, they call him the “holy father”. The “holy father”? The only person we should call Holy Father is the One who is the 1st Person of the Triune Godhead. The pope is neither holy nor anyone’s father. He is not some mediator between God and man. He is a sinner in need of a Savior just like everyone else in the world.

I have a friend who recently got saved out of devout Catholicism, and his eyes have been opened to the lies and the folly associated with that system of religion. He was the one who brought up the “holy father” deal last night, and it got me thinking about how many millions and billions of people are being deceived by another wolf in sheep’s clothing; deceived right into a tormented godless eternity.

Religion is one of Satan’s favorite tools, no doubt about that.

The Fourth Question

Where am I going?

I think this is my favorite of the four major life questions because it fills my heart with sense of peace to know the answer. I’m not being proud in saying that - I have read what the Bible says on life after death and I’ve staked my eternal destiny on the One who promises everlasting life to all who trust Him alone. (John 3:16)

I’m going to Heaven. How about you? Are you going too? Or are you one of the billions who are currently on their way to the lake of fire (i.e. the very real Hell)?

You can  know the answer to this question, one that nags at the mind of every person in the world. Click on the “Good News” link to the right. It’ll tell you the whole story.

The Third Question

Why am I here?

To have a good time, go for it, get everything I can, die with a lot of toys.

No?

Ok, then. I’m here to leave a legacy - to be so nice and good to my fellow man that I’ll have 1000 people at my funeral who’ll give one heartfelt tribute after another to the wonderful person that was me.

Sounds good. But again, no. The true answer is quite antithetical to how most (all, actually) humans conduct themselves.

John the Baptist said it very well. In fact he summed up what a person’s whole life is to be about in one sentence.

John 3:30 “He must increase, but I must decrease.”

We are here for no other reason than to bring him glory. Unbelievers live very unfulfilling lives because they can’t glorify God in their separated-from-him state. They live life to bring glory to themselves. Sadly, believers all too often do too.

I know I forget why I’m here. Daily. Hourly. I rarely remember “He must increase”. It’s “Katie must increase”.

But when I come around to the right way of thinking, there’s God’s grace, his mercy, his forgiveness.

Psalm 17: 7 I will give to the Lord the thanks due to his righteousness, and I will sing praise to the name of the Lord, the Most High.

 

 

The Second Question

Where did I come from?

I touched on this during my discussion on the first question, “Who am I?” in regards to the sad belief in the flukes of evolution, but there is need for expansion. The answer to this second question is simple. In fact, the answers to life’s most important questions are all straightforward when you know the One from whom all life flows.

I did not come to exist in some random way. I was tenderly and lovingly ”knit together in my mother’s womb”. Before time began, the Creator had my whole life planned and organized. He arranged my specific combination of DNA to originate with Adam and Eve and be passed down through thousands of years and countless generations of parents and eventually form the person that is me. I am no accident. I am unique. To acknowledge that is not to be proud. It’s actually very humbling and worship-inspiring to recognize my origins and to realize that I am indeed “fearfully and wonderfully made” by my awesome God and Father.

Psalm 139:13-16

13 For you formed my inward parts;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. 
Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.

And that’s the beautiful story of where we all came from.

Resuming posting

Attention, please.

I am resuming posting on this blog after a two week hiatus/sabbatical during which spring came (kind of, ’cause we got a foot of snow on the first day), Easter came and went, and I had a school break. Of sorts.

I started a series on The Four Most Important Questions in Life . (I know, I know. It was a month ago.) I hope to continue with #2 tomorrow.

See ya then.

Here we are . . . ALL of us (!!!!)

1998

2003

Drumroll, please . . . .

13 March 2008!!!

um . . .ok, everyone ready? Dad, is your hair ok?? . . . ok . . .2008!!!

Now, let’s all wave goodbye for another 5 years!

The First Question

Who am I?

Ask most of your friends who they are, and you’ll often get a blank stare or a “Huh?” or an answer such as “I’m a (fill in the blank) parent, a student, an accountant, a laundromat owner”. Their identity is wrapped in what they do because they really don’t know who they are.

If you asked an evolutionist to describe who he was in his very essence, he might say, “I’m a (random) conglomeration of billions of cells that are a product of my ape-like ancestors, which in turn were a product of a string of creatures in various stages of evolution that trace their roots way back billions of years ago to a couple of (chance) proteins in some (fortuitous) primordial stew that (accidentally) smacked into each other (coincidentally) and –zing – (somehow) a spark of life was produced.”

How touching. But that’s not me.

Who am I? First and foremost, my life is in Christ and he lives in me. My identity is completely wrapped up in my Savior, and not in what I may or may not accomplish in life.

Colossians 3:3 “For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”

Galatians 2:20 “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”

I am a child of God through the blood of his Son. I am accepted and blessed in the Beloved One, Jesus Christ. I am a citizen of heaven. I am a not-chance one – God himself knit me together in my mother’s womb.

There is such security in knowing the answer to this most basic of questions.

Leapin’ along

I don’t have much to say today, but I wanted to post on Leap Day, just ’cause I won’t get a chance to post on it for another 4 years . . .

Speaking of 4, I’ve been contemplating life’s 4 biggest questions. Important as they are, these questions are ones that majority of the people in this world have no idea how to answer. I think I might be starting a little series addressing them, so stay tuned.

One Year

It’s snowing today. Or raining. Not sure which one, really. Still, it’s thinking weather out there.  And this is what I’m thinking today.

I’m gonna start a blog . . . .

That’s how this whole thing began on 25 February 2007, so Happy Anniversary, and thanks for reading.

It’s funny, because as far as the weather goes, it’s pretty much the same as it was on this day last year. I think it might be raining tonight, then snowing. And that snowfall will most likely send us over the 80 inch mark for the winter.

Been a lovely winter here. We seem to be breaking weather records left & right. It’s either snowing furiously or the windchill is -25. But our 80+ inches of snow pales in comparison to the 109.8 inches they got in ‘85-’86. Um, 1885-1886, that is.

On 21 Feb, Jim Stingl, a columnist for The Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, had this humorous take on that Wisconsin winter, and the current one:

“Plentiful snow back then was known as excellent sleighing weather. ‘Mrs. George Lord’s sleigh ride party comprising about 20 couples went to the insane asylum Monday evening and, notwithstanding the intensely cold weather, report a very pleasant time,’ The Milwaukee Journal reported.

We’re all going to be sleighing over to the insane asylum if this winter doesn’t let up soon.”

Indeed. But there is light at the end of the tunnel: spring training games kick off this week.

The Life of an MK . . . or is it?

My sister Emily’s Facebook profile includes the following in her “About Me” section. Maybe someday I’ll post something that better reflects our actual experiences, but for now, you can get all the misconceptions all in one place.

 I’m from Africa, and yes, I’m white. I grew up in the jungle. It was kind of rough because we had to live in mud huts, but after a while you get used to the chickens wandering in and out. We ate a lot of exotic stuff- monkeys, beetles, that sort of thing. It was hot, because it was Africa, and everyone knows Africa is wicked hot, so I didn’t wear that many clothes most of the time, except when riding elephants, because it’s more comfortable sitting on them when you have jeans on. We don’t have any roads there or electricity, and I didn’t learn how to use a computer until I got to college. However, my education was extensive in other areas. For instance, I am fluent in African, and I know how to make excellent roof thatching out of banana leaves. It was a pretty adventurous existence. Sometimes tigers would come by at night, and we’d have to stay inside our hut for a bit until they passed on. It was a good life. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

Yeah,  that’ll do for now.

On being a sinner

It’s awful being one of those, isn’t it? The longer I live and the more I read God’s Word, the more I see the ugliness of my heart and my thoughts and my deeds and my words. Don’t worry, this isn’t going to turn into a gut-spilling confessional – the wide world web isn’t the appropriate place and I’ve spoken to Someone about the particulars already. If you are a believer in that Someone, you, my fellow sinner, know how it is to suddenly or gradually recognize our unholiness before the pure and holy King of the Universe. To realize that:

A. I am not a good person. (Romans 3:10)

B. I deserve to be in hell at this very moment. (Romans 6:23a)

Not a pretty picture, eh? Yet these two points are absolutely true of every single person (i.e. sinner) walking this earth. That’s why it is so unbelievably miraculously wonderful that that Someone, that pure and holy King is also something else.

He is, as I heard recently a pastor say in a message, “the Friend of sinners without condoning their sin”. He is the Lover of the unlovely, of prostitutes, crooked judges, candy bar thieves, drunks, disobedient 5 year olds, serial rapists, and Katie Morrison. He, Jesus Christ, the Son of God, has provided his own righteousness and deliverance from hell to each believing sinner on the basis of his death for us and his resurrection. And that’s (you guessed it)
grace.

pursuit

Psalm 23:6 “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.“

My sister sent me this little commentary on the word “follow”:

“The Hebrew word is ‘radaph,’ and can be translated as ‘to pursue, hound, or chase.’ I think it’s such a cool picture! God’s goodness and unfailing love does not meekly follow, trailing along behind us. It aggressively pursues us, hounds us, and chases us down.”

What a precious thought - he is active in his faithful pursuing of me, even when I’m so unfaithful in pursuing him.

good news

From today’s Nation (a newspaper in Kenya):

“The government dropped its demands for a re-count and a new tally of the presidential votes, while the ODM leadership gave up pushing for the resignation of President Kibaki, a re-run of the elections, or a new election in a year’s time. It was agreed that the only option was a political settlement that would bring together the government and ODM sides in a regime whose task would be to enact far-reaching constitutional, legal and institutional reforms over a three-year period. The public breathed a sigh of relief as President Kibaki and ODM leader Raila Odinga shook hands — for the third time in two weeks — and members from both sides exchanged pleasantries.”

Thank you, Lord.

Please keep praying!

Scrabble & “seats seven”

(I wrote this post over Christmas break, then kind of forgot to post it. . . better late than never, I suppose.) 

The other night I played Scrabble with my mom. The game amazes me. I think about all the connections my brain is making as it manipulates words and letters - it’s actually an extremely complex process that I have come to appreciate all the more as I have studied language.

Of course, the way I play, I often end up putting my mind through extra and unnecessary contortions trying to figure out how to use all seven tiles on one play, only to end up playing “N-U-T” on the triple word score for a whopping 9 points. Hey, you gotta play with what you got, right?

Last night, it was time for another type of competition as our family took a trip down to see the Flyers play hockey vs. the Maple Leafs (Leaves??). They won, 4-1. It was the first time we’d gone to a major sporting event as a family in 10 years. We picked up my older brother at his apartment and headed into Philly in our Mercury minivan, which “seats seven”.

Ha.

Ten years ago when most of us were a good deal smaller, that might’ve been true. It’s not anymore. My littlest brother is as tall as my dad, my little sister is taller than both my mom and me, so there’s pretty much zero wiggle room. As one of the smaller family members, I had the privilege of sitting in the 3rd row, middle seat. Ah, there’s nothing like a little family bonding time, eh?

And there’s nothing like sitting in the backseat of the family car to makes you feel like a kid again.

a very white day

Psalm 147:16 “He gives snow like wool; He scatters the frost like ashes.”

We sure got given a whole lot of wooly snow today in southeast Wisconsin - over a foot right now, with more coming down. When I walked out the door on my way to work, I thought, This is about the whitest day I’ve ever seen. The unplowed, nearly impassable roads are white. The sky is white. The trees are white. The buildings, thanks to the howling winds, are white with the driven snow. Windows are frosted from top to bottom.

This morning, I lay in bed at 5:45 and listened to the nostalgic drone of school closings, remembering when I was young and I sat next to the radio on winter mornings, rooting for them to say the name of my school. Snow days, as any kid knows, are a wonderful unexpected gift.

So, thanks, Lord, for giving us this gift of snow. It’s beautiful.

Aliens in America (and in this world in general)

Last night my sister, Emily, and I bonded over a song, one you’ve probably heard if you’ve watched TV at all lately. I know, it’s a corny way to come across new music, but it’s the tune that plays during the latest Mac laptop commercial – “New Soul” by Yael Naim. (The song’s on YouTube, if you want to take a listen.)

The first time I heard it, I liked it’s whimsical jauntiness, playful trombone, and stick-in-your-head-all-day quality. But there was something else that resonated with me, something which I didn’t recognize ’til I was listening to again it as I got ready for bed. The lyrics start out like this:

“I’m a new soul, I came to this strange world hoping I could learn a bit ’bout how to give and take /But since I came here, felt the joy and the fear, finding myself making every possible mistake.”

Hey, wait a sec! That pretty much describes me the first couple years after I came back to the States for college. New? Check. Strange world? Check. Wanting to learn? Check. Joy and fear? Check. Making Every Possible Mistake? Well, it sure felt like it.

Even 8.5 years into my adult life in the US of A, there are times when I still feel strangely out of place here, not unlike most MKs. We may look American, sound American, and (mostly) act American, but inside, we aren’t really American. We have too much of “Other Place” in us. Someone has called us “hidden immigrants”.

I suppose for all it’s discomfort, this “belonginglessness” isn’t a bad thing. We kind of get a head start on understanding the concept of being “aliens and strangers” on earth (1 Peter 2:11). And as much as I ache for people and places in other parts of the world, I never ache so much as when I ache for heaven. Heaven is home. It’s belonging. It’s with, not without. On that day that the Lord has chosen, I’ll end my sojourn and I’ll be with Christ. Home. Forever.

That’s what I was made for.

the opposite of tarasso

A friend gave me a Bible promise book for Christmas and I find myself turning through its pages frequently as I face different trying situations. Some situations are difficult due to the day-to-day stress of life, others are hard because there are no easy answers, no quick fixes, no instant healing balm for the deeper pains in my heart. But what better place to turn in any trial than to “the God of all comfort” and his Word?

Today was a “deeper pain” day. The news out of Kenya breaks my heart. I see my country with its cities, villages, and families being torn apart literally and figuratively. People – children – are being burned alive. I cried as I read the newspaper account, saw the picture of a little boy cowering with wide, terrified eyes.

When I got home tonight, I opened up my promises book to the segment with verses about “peace”, and there was John 14:27: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”

Now I’ve read this verse so many times before. I’ve been comforted by it before. But this time I realized I didn’t really get what “troubled” means, so I grabbed my trusty Strong’s Concordance off the shelf and looked up the word.

5015 tarasso (in the passive)”to be disturbed, terrified, confused, to be stirred up”

That Greek word seems to, in a tragic way, describe Kenya fittingly at the moment. It also perfectly describes, in the opposite, the attitude of heart God wants me to have. He’s telling me, “Katie, do not let your heart be disturbed. Do not let your heart be terrified. Do not let your heart be confused. Do not let your heart be stirred up.”

Psalm 37:1 “Do not fret because of evildoers . . . . trust in the LORD and do good . . .”

And as I trust in the universe’s King in the midst of my grief, my heart is at rest.

Please join me in praying for peace in Kenya, as well as for comfort for those who have lost loved ones and those who are displaced. Pray that many would get saved as a result of the turmoil – that the unrest may bring them to see their need for peace with God through the work of Jesus Christ.

 

inevitabilities

From the Flying McCoys comic strip:

Yeah, I got a kick out of that creativity.

I’m reading a book called 10 Questions Science Can’t Answer (Yet) by Michael Hanlon. It’s quirky and fascinating, and the questions (which are the chapter titles) are stated in an offbeat way that are meant to catch your attention. For instance, the query, “Do animals have cognitive abilities?” is stated, “Is Fido a zombie?”

As I was perusing the table of contents, I was struck by the question, “Can I live forever please?” The chapter is a treatment of a series of some of the most troubling scientific questions, questions like “Why do we age? Why do our bodies break down? Why do we die?”

Scientifically speaking, we know how we die and we know everyone eventually succumbs to something. If you ignore the Bible, you’ll believe the ratio of person born: person dead is 1:1. Of course, if you ignore the Bible, you also won’t find the answer to the why of dying.

It’s sin. Romans 5:12 puts it out there pretty clearly: “Therefore, just as through one man sin entered the world, and death through sin, and thus death spread to all men, because all sinned . . .”

I’m pretty sure you won’t find that explanation in any medical textbook. Scientists have gone down some pretty strange trails trying to figure this whole death thing out, and they’ve come up empty (which is what normally happens when you ignore the clear teaching of God’s Word).

But I do have an answer to Mr. Hanlon’s somewhat facetious question, “Can I live forever please?”, an answer he probably would never expect to hear.

Yes, sir, of course you can.

Just as the Bible holds the answer to the why of death, it also speaks wonderfully to the how of eternal life – it’s “the free gift of God . . . in Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Rom 6:23b).

See, for those of us who have accepted this gift by simply trusting in God the Son who died in our place and rose again, death ( the separation of our soul and spirit from our body) is merely the door that we walk through from life on this planet to life forever in the glorious presence of God.

And the promise of life on the other side makes the whole inevitability of death a whole lot easier to swallow.

Taxes, on the other hand . . . . J

 

space

“If the empty space in atoms were removed, the entire human race would fit in the volume of a sugar cube.” – Marcus Chown, The Quantum Zoo.

In other words, we are overwhelmingly made up of, well . . . emptiness. It’s hard to fathom that, considering how solid everything looks and feels. I love statements like this one because it stretches my mind to it’s limit and then leaves my ability to understand far behind. This is a good thing, because then I see my smallness, and as I have written before, I need to be reminded of my smallness again and again. I get far too big-headed far too often.

My mom recently went to California and while there, saw and touched one of the largest trees in the world. She remarked on what a worship experience it was, as she praised the Creator of this magnificent plant. (It is that, though it sounds strange to call a redwood a plant, as if it were a wildflower or some sort of classroom foilage.)

It’s never a bad thing to be reminded of our tininess in light of our God – the One who “determines the number of the stars; he gives them to all of them their names”(Psalm 147:4 ESV). So much for those star name registries – my Father has already named each one.

Wow.

Up and at ‘em

Well, I should be back to a more regular blogging schedule now that the craziness of traveling and the craziness of studying for/taking the national speech-language pathology exam and the craziness of getting settled into my medical practicum are all behind me.

I think “a more regular blogging schedule” hopefully means a few posts a week . . . we shall see. I have a lot of thoughts going through my head as I embark on my last semester in school.

Right now, I’m enjoying the thought of Jesus Christ as the bright morning star (Rev 22:16). As my pastor described last night, that star is the one that shines the brightest just before darkness turns to dawn - the herald that night is ending and glorious day is about to break.

It’s a beautiful and fitting picture of our Savior.

“Therewith be content”

I used to struggle with the concept of contentment. I thought it meant I could never want anything. Of course by that definition, I was not content. Ever.

But then I realized that the Bible speaks of desires, and not in a disparaging way. The Psalmist writes about God granting us “the desires of [our] heart” (Psalm 37:4). The apostle Paul wished he could be with the beloved believers in the different churches he wrote to. He also “desired to depart and be with Christ”(Phil 1:23). Yearnings are part of being human. They are part of the way God made us. If we never wanted anything, we’d be sticks in the mud, going nowhere, doing nothing. That’s rather problematic. Also problematic is the other end of the desire spectrum, where our wants control and devour us.

This middle ground is where contentment comes into play.

Contentment is not the absence of longings; it is being unconsumed by one’s longings. It is the peaceful acceptance of what God has for me in the present, trusting him that his provision is adequate (and so often, far far better than simply “adequate”).

And, like Paul, we can learn the “secret” to being content: reliance on the strength of Christ. (Phil 4:12-13)

“May we dwell in unity, peace, and liberty”

My other homeland, Kenya, is in turmoil. This country, which since its independence in 1963 has been an oasis of peace and stability in an often volatile region of the world, is being torn apart by post-election violence. It hurts to see the images, to read the horrifying accounts of “ethnic cleansing”, to have no answers. I’m concerned for my friends and for the future. I wonder how and if it can all be resolved.

And I turn to the One who has the answers, to the One who knew this was going to happen and is completely sovereign. I turn to the God of all peace. I pray for peace in Kenya. I pray for peace between the Luo tribe and the Kikuyu tribe, between supporters of Odinga and supporters of Kibaki.

I pray for ultimate peace for the people of Kenya - the peace that comes as a result of simply believing in Jesus Christ’s death for our sins and his resurrection. That is only way to gain eternal life, and the only way to a right relationship with God and a right relationship with those around us.

This morning I remembered that Kenya’s national anthem is actually a prayer, and a very appropriate one at that. In closing, here’s the first verse of the English version:

O God of all creation,
Bless this our land and nation.
Justice be our shield and defender,
May we dwell in unity,
Peace and liberty,
Plenty be found within our borders.

Amen and amen.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig!

I am home for Christmas, and it’s not just in my dreams . . .

John 1:14 “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

Broken

This is a poem I wrote a while back when I was in the middle of a very difficult situation, but had to keep going about my daily routine. It’s an example of my own Lamentations, my acknowledgment that the life we lead here on earth can be so very hard at times.

Life doesn’t stop for a broken heart.

It doesn’t slow down just because

It hurts to breathe, think, talk, eat, write.

And it doesn’t let us off so we can

Cease living for a while

‘Til the pain ceases stabbing every thought

And we can once again laugh without

Wanting to cry.

No, life speeds on,

Careless and carefree,

And there are dishes to wash,

Papers to write,

Meetings to sit through,

Clocks to be punched,

And the broken heart is

Left crumpled and torn

In a corner of our life

Like an old sweater

That there’s no time to mend.
 

Sweet promises

I’ve been reading in Jeremiah of late. It’s a tough book to wade through. It’s full of righteous judgment upon judgment upon judgment against rebellious Israel; each one sad and painful. But then, I come to passages like this one in chapter 32:37-41 (ESV):

“Behold, I will gather them from all the countries to which I drove them in my anger and my wrath and in great indignation. I will bring them back to this place, and I will make them dwell in safety. And they shall be my people, and I will be their God.  I will give them one heart and one way, that they may fear me forever, for their own good and the good of their children after them. I will make with them an everlasting covenant, that I will not turn away from doing good to them. And I will put the fear of me in their hearts, that they may not turn from me. I will rejoice in doing them good, and I will plant them in this land in faithfulness, with all my heart and all my soul.”

My heart rejoices greatly in that.

Why should I so delight in promises made thousands of years ago to this tiny chosen nation? After all, I am not an Israelite. These promises are not for me, a Gentile member of the Church.

I love these truths because they reveal the God I serve as a compassionate, covenant-keeping God. He loves Israel with an everlasting love. And despite their past and present rejection of him and of his Messiah, these promises will come true. I will see them come true.

And I will marvel at such a wonderful Savior, such a faithful King.

Dread (Thoughts on Death)

I don’t dread my own death, only others’. It’s selfish of me, I know, but I don’t want to have to be the one to deal with the pain, the mind and heart-breaking loss. I dread the phone call, the burn of tears on my eyelashes, the crazy disbelief, like the time when I was little and Dad and Mom told me a friend had died in a car accident and I just kept thinking they could put her body back together again and she’d be OK. But life, once broken into a billion pieces by the mallet we call death, can’t be fixed.

Not yet anyway.

And the dread I feel sometimes overwhelms the hope – the settled assurance – that the lives of those I love are in the most capable, caring hands in the universe. Their times, as well as mine, are His to determine. He knows when, or if, we will die. I need to rest in that fact that when tragedy strikes my fragile heart, His grace will be all sufficient. Still, I long for, ache for, live for, the “if”. I desire with all my heart to be of the generation of believers who never died, but were instead raptured to live forever with our Savior, to be free from dread, to be free of sin, to be free of decay, to be free eternally from death.

An appropriate goodbye

Today I said goodbye to my kids. The last thing I heard as I walked out the classroom door was their laughter. It was a fitting end to the few special months I was privileged to spend with these little guys. I laughed with them every day.

A lot.

This morning was no exception. When my supervisor announced that this was my last day, she told them I was leaving and that I was going to be working at a hospital (my medical practicum starts in January). The kids were quite impressed, based on the chorus of wows. Tommy, apparently, was especially impressed. As he walked out the door, bundled up in his heavy winter jacket and Packers hat, he threw his arms around me, buried his head in my stomach, and said, “Bye, Miss Morrison. Have a good time at the doctor’s!”

And I laughed.

Finality is a funny thing

I wasn’t really thinking about it yesterday when I walked into class, but I was thinking a lot about it when I walked out. It was my last class session of the semester. On Friday, I have my last day at my practicum. By this time next week, my semester will be over. I have just one final on Monday. Then in January, I begin my last semester in school. Quite possibly the last one ever.

Wow. That snuck on me. I think I get so used to routine, just getting through the day or the week or the month. And then, wham! what I’ve been doing is over and it feels extremely sudden. I hit that last date hard and get mental whiplash. The end of something is sneaky in a very subtle way. I never expect to be surprised at how quickly it comes, but I always am.

I’m looking out the window now where it’s snowing in the deepening dusk. I’ll be going out a walkin’ in it soon, which will be a nice end to the day.

And for the end of this post, here’s a great statement of trust in the LORD by King Jehoshaphat when “a great horde” was coming against Judah:

2 Chronicles 20:12b “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.”

I’ve been lost

In Kenya when you haven’t seen someone for a while, you might say upon encountering them again, “You have been so lost.”

And I have been.

But I’m back to wish my faithful (???) readers a Happy December. Last year here in Milwaukee we had a blizzard on the 1st of December. This year the new month has brought with it a lovely wintry mix, i.e. snow and stinging ice pellets driven by 25 mph winds into one’s face. It was a perfect day to play football. Truly it was a fun time, because of the following  combination of factors:

December. Snow. A Saturday afternoon. A pick-up football game with good friends.

What more could you ask for?

(Perhaps me, actually blogging more than 5 times a month, ala November? I’ll be working on it.)

Blissfully ignorant

His real name’s not Harold, but due to privacy issues, I probably shouldn’t broadcast it over cyberspace. Calling him Harold gives you the gist, because I’m not talking about a 73 year-old man here. Harold is 5. He’s one of my kids. One of my favorites, actually, which is kind of surprising considering what a distraction he is in the classroom. He rambles on incoherently about everything and nothing, he rarely raises his hand, he is a whirl of constant motion, he has little concept of classroom etiquette and social norms. Sadly, the other kids have noticed he’s a little odd.

But I love the rascal. Everything Harold does is done with a sweetness and sincerity and abandon I’ve rarely seen. His wide eyes take in life enthusiastically (if a tad cluelessly) and he usually sports a charming huge gap-toothed grin. His hair is usually matted down in places and sticking straight up in others, adding a bit of Norman Rockwellian whimsy to his persona. He laughs easily and hands out hugs just as freely. Everyone - teachers, classmates, the substitute - is ”my friend” (even if they don’t necessarily think so).

Last Monday as the children were coming into the room, I saw that some looked a little draggy. I began asking them one by one if they were sad or happy. When I got to Harold, sitting in the center of the room Indian style, his back straight, eyes wide, I asked, “Harold are you sad today?”

“No, I’m HAPPY!” He leapt to his feet.

“Harold, why are you happy?”

He flung his arms wide. “I took a shower today!”

“You took a shower?”

He was nearly jumping up and down with barely corralled energy. “Yeah! And then I came to school!“

I sat there and laughed. A shower and school. Two very good reasons to be happy.

Harold is going to be leaving us soon for another classroom where he can get the kind of special education he needs. I’m going to miss that sweet little boy with the old man’s name.

I’m going to miss my friend.

Milwaukee shines

There’s one good thing I can say about having to leave home a bit before 6:30 AM to catch a bus - you surely do get to see Milwaukee’s beauty. Seems that during other times of the day, creation is drowned out by the noise and bustle or it’s wrapped in darkness.

But in the early morning, Milwaukee shines. I nearly forget I’m in a city. On Tuesday, the heavens boisterously and exuberantly declared the glory of God (Psalm 19), with the rising sun warming the undersides of feathery clouds to the tune of brilliant oranges and pinks. I started singing at the bus stop, joining the chorus of the skies.

A little while later while riding through a residential section of town, the trees were glowing. It was the perfect combination of soft light and fall leaves. This year there is a lot of yellow on the trees. And when that early sun hits those leaves just right, the word “burning” becomes extremely appropriate. I find it difficult to study my articulation textbook at that point.

I’ve started getting off the bus a stop early so I can walk through a little park on the south side. The combination of relative quiet and crunchy leaves and frost-encrusted grass underfoot has proved irresistible.

Yes, Milwaukee shines. And I worship the Creator of beauty in the city.

9862 Days

or, 27 years. As of yesterday, that’s how long I’ve lived. Somehow, it seems like it should be longer. More days, I mean.

You mean I haven’t even hit 10,000 days?  It’s a reminder again how short this life is compared to eternity. My life span since 1980 is like the tiniest plop, blip, blot, speck, compared to unfathomable vastness of timelessness. Actually, it’s less. It is so insignificant. And yet, what happens here in time influences eternity future.

Amazing!

I’ve asked this before and I’ll asked it again: is your eternity settled? Do you know where you will spend it? Don’t push the question aside. Consider forever. Consider that we are all sinners who deserve to spend eternity in torment in hell, separated from God. Consider that the one true God became man - Jesus Christ - died on the cross, taking that eternal punishment for us, then rose again. Consider the fact that he offers salvation from hell as a totally free gift. Consider that the only way to obtain this gift is by believing (depending) solely on the work and person of Jesus (not by any works we do).

Consider the TRUTH. Then believe it and live forever.

Look at me

Sometimes during my therapy sessions with one of my 4 year olds, I feel like a broken record. Mandy is on the autism spectrum, and lately we’ve been working on the social aspects of language, in essence, eye contact.

This is how I sound:

“Mandy, look at my eyes when I am talking to you. . . good looking . . . no, do not look at the computers . . . Mandy, where are my eyes? . . . good looking . . . no, do not look at Ms. B . . . . look at my eyes . . . good looking . . . no, do not look at what the other kids are doing . . . .” and so on.

See? Broken record.

Yesterday, I couldn’t help but think that this is what the Lord is like with me. He is so patient and yet so persistent with his reminders: “Katie, look at me . . . no, don’t go looking at the world’s distractions . . . no, don’t go looking at what I’m doing in your friends lives . . . look at me.”

‘Cause in reality, I’m an awful lot like Mandy. My eyes wander. I need those constant nudgings, the finger on the chin guiding my gaze back to the Savior.

Hebrew 12:1-2 ESV  “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, 2 looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”

X marks the spot

Now that wasn’t all that hard, was it?

Just what I needed to hear

We sang this one on Sunday and it was  great: 

Safe is my refuge, sweet is my rest,
Ill cannot harm me, nor foes e’er molest;
Jesus my spirit so tenderly calms,
Holding me close in His Mighty arms.

Chorus: Oh! what wonderful, wonderful rest!
Trusting completely in Jesus I’m blest;
Sweetly He comforts and shields from alarms,
Holding me safe in His mighty arms.

Pressing my tear-stained cheek to His own,
Hushing my grief with His sweet gentle tone;
Touching my heart with His healing balms,
Holding me still in His mighty arms.

Tempests may rage, sin’s surges may beat,
Ne’er can they reach my sheltered retreat;
Free from all danger, from dread alarms,
Resting so safe in His mighty arms.

- Winfield MaComber

The Life Uncertain

I like knowing things. If I know something, I cope easier because I can outline in my mind the steps that I need to take based on my knowledge of a situation. I’m a serious ducks-in-a-row addict.

So when the Lord, in his infinite wisdom and kindness, gives me a trial, he generally includes a hefty dose of uncertainty. Oh, and a nice dollop of waiting. Uncertainty and waiting - those two words pretty much sum up my trials.

Like the one I’m in now.

And I know why he gives these tests to me - because when mind is full of wonderings but my hands are tied, my only hope is in looking up to my wonderful Savior in whom there is rest and peace.

As I remember the Lord, I find great joy in the truths of songs like this gem by August L. Storm:

Thanks to God for my Redeemer,
Thanks for all Thou dost provide!
Thanks for times now but a memory,
Thanks for Jesus by my side!
Thanks for pleasant, balmy springtime,
Thanks for winter, summer, fall!
Thanks for tears by now forgotten,
Thanks for peace within my soul!

Thanks for prayers that Thou hast answered,
Thanks for what Thou dost deny!
Thanks for storms that I have weathered,
Thanks for all Thou dost supply!
Thanks for pain, and thanks for pleasure,
Thanks for comfort in despair!
Thanks for grace that none can measure,
Thanks for love beyond compare!

Thanks for roses by the wayside,
Thanks for thorns their stems contain!
Thanks for home and thanks for fireside,
Thanks for hope, that sweet refrain!
Thanks for joy and thanks for sorrow,
Thanks for heav’nly peace with Thee!
Thanks for hope in the tomorrow,
Thanks through all eternity!

Why I Love Writing, Reason Four

I love writing because it is unnatural as far as communication modes go; we acquire spoken language, but we must be taught how to read and write.

Despite it’s lack of “naturalness”, our brains display an amazing ability to grasp and master written language in its various forms. There are many different orthographies (writing systems - think Roman [we use this in English] Hebrew, Chinese, Arabic, Cyrillic, my personal favorite, the IPA, etc.), but given time and study we can learn to read and write in any of them. Then we put little black squiggles and straight lines and dots on a white page and suddenly they mean “I love you” and “duck” and “stroganoff” and a zillion other words and ideas.

That’s pretty incredible. Yup, I love writing.

Pimple: Thoughts on the Greatness of God and the Insignificance of Man

Dr. John Whitcomb, speaking of the foolishness of the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11:5):

“‘Then the LORD came down to see the city and the tower which the sons of men had built.’ By the way, do you know how far down God had to come to find the tower? Psalm 113 says he has to humble himself to find the universe! And then he passes through all these billions of galaxies, each with billions of stars and finally finds our little galaxy called the Milky Way, which has 100 billion stars, and then he finds one star called the sun and around it there are nine little dots called planets and the third one isn’t so big. It’s called Earth. And then he comes and finds an infinitesimal pimple called the Tower of Babel.”

Neon Pink vs. Green

Taking a break from my “reasons” series . . .

Ephesians 4:17, 18 (ESV) “Now this I say and testify in the Lord, that you no longer walk as the Gentiles [unsaved] do, in the futility of their minds. They are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them, due to the hardness of their hearts.”

I’m currently reading a book on the wonders of science called The Canon. The author, Natalie Angier, is a talented and engaging writer, and that, along with the fact that the subject matter is awe-inspiring, makes for a mostly enjoyable read. I say only mostly enjoyable because Ms. Angier, like most people in the sciences these days, does not hesitate to enthusiastically and frequently bash anyone who believes in creation as being unscientific and by inferences (if not outright labeling), unintelligent.

She, like most evolutionists, finds strength in numbers (as if that is a cogent argument for or against a position). One passage that particularly struck me was the following:

“David Baltimore recalled an MIT scientist . . . who was one of the last remaining critics of the theory of the origin of the universe that is now almost universally accepted by astronomers and indeed the entire scientific community. ‘He didn’t believe in the Big Bang,’ said Baltimore, ‘and he was in everybody’s face about it.’” (p. 34)

The first thing I thought was “Poor guy. He was actually right.” Now I don’t know who he was, or what he actually believed as far as creation vs. evolutionism, but he was right on when he denied what everyone else proclaimed. How frustrating it must have been to be one of the only ones in his field who thought the Big Bang was a hoax. I’d guess it was that dense frustration that drove him to get “in everyone’s face”. It would be kind of like everyone in the world believing that grass is bright pink. You know know know know it’s green, and you try to tell people, but they smirk and keep living blissfully and ignorantly in their neon –pink –grass land. You’d get a little hot under the collar too, eh?

Why I Love Writing, Reason Three

This:                                                                         

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.

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.

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It’s the challenge of a blank page and a flickering cursor.

Why I Love Writing, Reason Two

Back from a little hiatus - a wonderful trip to Duluth for a God-glorifying, saint-encouraging Bible conference on Zechariah, Christology and some various other topics. Take a look at the Duluth Bible Church link to the right - they have MP3s of all the messages. I’m spiritually recharged and physically beaten down, but that sure is better than the other way around!

Onward in our “series”:

The second reason I love writing is because I am such an awkward speaker. I know, I know - considering my field, you’d think I should be a great and fluent conversationalist. Hardly. I fumble over my words, I am too blunt, I can’t think of the right thing to say or the right question to ask. I envy friends who carry on conversations with ease (and can do so with total strangers). Pragmatics (how we use language socially) is the weakest linguistic link for me. I’m an awful debater - most of my responses in defense of a position are barely above the level of “I believe that . . . just . . . just . . . BECAUSE.”

With writing, I have time to frame what I want to say. Words that elude me when I’m on the spot find their way onto the screen as I type. When my thoughts are given a chance to percolate and form coherently, writing ends up being my best communication mode.

Why I Love Writing, Reason One

Oooh, a series - how long it’ll be, I don’t know . . . but on with the my reason number one:

I love writing chiefly because writing is language. I revel in language, I live and breathe language. I don’t just think on language when it’s absolutely necessary to do so. I teach language, I critique it, I find joy in it. Whether I’m telling my 4-year-olds that the letter M makes the “mmmm” sound (as in Mmmmiss Mmmmorrison) or reading the book of Isaiah, I find much happiness and wonder in sounds strung together in words strung together in sentences and paragraphs.

In case you hadn’t noticed, language is near the top of my list of favorite gifts God has given mankind (note: for obvious reasons, it’s not at the top). I’m sad for my colleagues who think that language evolved because an ape or two felt an urge to start grunting meaningfully. That’s got to be depressing. I’m glad I know that my loving Creator created language so we could communicate deeply, not only with one another but also with him.

The more I learn about language, the more thankful I am to the Lord. He is awesome.

My despisal of writing

“A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.” - Thomas Mann

Indeed. Being a writer sometimes seems to be more of a curse than a blessing.

I hate writing. I hate the frequent compulsion I have to write, especially when an idea strikes me at a time when I can’t write (e.g. I have a test to study for) or when I really don’t want to write (e.g. at 1 AM when my body is begging for sleep but my mind insists on thrashing restlessly with thoughts that beg to be put down on paper).

I hate writing. I hate the fact that my apartment can be a mess, but my writing must be pristine. I hate obsessing over every word, every comma. I wish I could be like non-writers who throw together a paper or blog entry in a functional, presentable way, but don’t care if it is beautiful as long as it gets their point across. I believe Mr. Mann would agree.

I hate writing. I hate when it don’t turn out like the way I wanted it to when I thought of it first. I hate when the melody of words I heard in my mind turns into a cringe-worthy cacophony of broken notes on the screen. The second sentence in this paragraph is an hyperbolic demonstration of this sad occurence.

So, you may ask, why do you write? You’re pretty average, pretty run-of-the-mill as far as writers go. You’ll never make real money off it. You’ll never earn a Pulitzer.

I know. And here’s the answer:

As much as I hate writing, I write because I love to write (but the explanation of that is gonna hafta wait for another post).

And you know what?

I’m OK. I really am. The Phillies are about to go down 0-2 in a best of 5 series, and I’m not totally devastated. Disappointed? Yeah, I’m that.

But today I got to spend the morning with my little guys, teaching them syllables, laughing at their antics, scolding when they weren’t listening, and exulting when Josh finally said “ee-yellow” rather than “ee-wellow”. After that, I came home and there was food in my fridge, and my little apartment was a nice temperature, and my clothes are now all clean and smell nice and fresh from 70 minutes in the washer & dryer in my building’s basement. Hey, that’s a pretty fine day, wouldn’t ya say?

And even if it hadn’t been such a nice day, even if I overslept and missed the bus, even if I got puked on by one of my kiddos, even if Josh persisted in say “ee-wellow”, even if I had only bread and water to eat in a too-cold apartment and had to drag my laundry 8 blocks away to wash it (all that along with the Phils losing) . . .

You know what?

I’d be doing far better than I deserve. It’s only by God’s grace that I am privileged to live the wonderful life that I do, with a settled past, a joyful present, and an amazing beyond amazing future.

1 Timothy 1:17 (ESV) ”To the King of ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen.”

Puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?

Fixed

1 Peter 1:13 “Therefore, prepare your minds for action, keep sober in spirit, fix your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”

Hope here doesn’t mean “hope” as we tend to use it today, when one might say ”Boy, I really hope the Phillies beat the Rockies in the NLDS” (which I do, by the way). Hope in the Bible speaks of a calm assurance, an absolute settled confidence in something that is true. And what better “something” to fix (focus unswervingly) our hope on than the undeserved favor, the grace, that is now ours as believers and will be ours upon Christ’s return.

The Philadelphia Phillies are the 2007 National League East Champions

‘Nuff said.

“Just” a verse today

 1 Peter 3:18 “For Christ also suffered once for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made alive by the Spirit.”

3 to go

From my 2 April entry- baseball’s opening day:

“Besides the first day of spring, this is probably my favorite “lesser” holiday. On this day, the games count. On this day, I am always certain the Phillies will begin their march to their first World Series championship since they won it three weeks before I was born back in ‘80. On this day, “next year” is finally here.”

And amazingly enough, 159 games later, the dream still lives. The Phightins are phinally in phirst - tied with the Mets. And I’m pretty much as nervous as all get out.

It’s a 3-game season now. Go Phils!

Changing Lightbulbs

A couple days ago, one of the lightbulbs in my “kitchen” blew out. (I put “kitchen” in quotes because, you know, I live in a studio apartment, ergo my “kitchen” is only distinguishable from my “living room”, “dining room”, and “bedroom” by a strip of linoleum.) There was enough light without that bulb, and in my laziness, I didn’t get around to changing it until the next morning.

Boy, what a difference! I hadn’t realized how dark it had been until the new bulb flooded the room with light. And, yeah, I saw the clear spiritual lesson.

Many people don’t realize the deep darkness they are in until the “light of glorious gospel” (2 Corinthians 4:4) floods their hearts. You will only truly see, spiritually speaking, when you have trusted in the Light of the World - Jesus Christ, the Son of God who died on the cross in our place and rose again.

Otherwise, you’ll be like me in my “kitchen” - in the dark, and not knowing how dark it really is.

“I think that athesists believe in God so much it drives them crazy.”

The speaker at church on Sunday made the above statement. He then continued, and I paraphrase, ”I don’t believe in the Tooth Fairy, but I don’t spend all my time forming Anti-Tooth Fairy Organizations and trying to prove she doesn’t exist.”

See, we all have a God consciousness. No one is born an atheist. They have to be taught that there is no God. And even in the most staunch atheist, there is a niggling fear that God exists. So they keep coming up with fallible “reasons” (or actually “sillinesses”, as there is no reason in them) to assuage their hearts and minds.

What does God say about these people?

Romans 1:18-23a ESV

“For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth. For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them.  For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse. For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened.  Claiming to be wise, they became fools . . .”

Two points here: A). They suppress the truth - they know it is true, they know there’s a God, but they push the facts down. B.) They became fools.(i.e. They aren’t wise.) See also Psalm 14:1.

Conclusion: Atheists are utterly and completely foolish. (Feel free to quote the One True and Living God on that.)

The “Joy” of Resumes

I’m in the midst of putting the finishing touches on my resume (and an accompanying cover letter). It’s not a fun process. I can’t get over that faint uncomfortable sensation that I’m just bragging about myself. Blech. I’ve heard people say something along the lines of “If what you’re putting down is true, than you’re not bragging.”

Riiight. A couple of pages of “Lookit what I’ve done!” in 10.5 font can’t help but feel a little boastful to me. Guess it’s this world we live in, eh?

Onward.

Psalm 94:18-19 ESV

“When I thought, ‘My foot slips,’
your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up.
When the cares of my heart are many,
your consolations cheer my soul.”

I have many cares in my heart these days. Cares about school, cares about the afterlife (um, the after-school life, make that, because my afterlife is completely settled), cares about my friends, cares about my family, cares about the people I’m around from day to day.

How true it is that God’s consolations comfort my heart. He reminds that he’s God, and I’m not. He reminds that he’s sovereign and I’m not. He reminds me that he loves me more than anyone else in the universe does. He reminds me that that steadfast love of his will hold me up when my feet slip.

And that is a great great comfort.

Talk about convicting

I read the following on an atheist’s website some time ago. It’s interesting and saddening to see this perspective:

“I always thought that if Christians really believe that I am going to burn eternally because I don’t believe what they do, they should try a little harder to covert me. Could it be that most of them don’t truly believe all this nonsense?”

What can you say to that? We ambassadors aren’t always the best ambassadors.

Short and sweet

My little’uns are just that. I ask you, is there anything more wonderful than having a four year old boy look up at you with bright shining eyes and absolutely butcher your name?

“Mih Marrnin [translated: Miss Morrison], please help me,” he said, and my heart melted a little. In fact, I’m surprised I have any intact heart left, what with all these delightful and diverse small people I have the privilege of working with these days. They do tend to get to you.

Onward.

Comfort from Hosea. Hosea? Yes, Hosea. Even as he proclaims judgment on their rebellion, God also proclaims his tender love towards his forever-chosen people, Israel.

Hosea 11:8-9

How can I give you up, O Ephraim?
How can I hand you over, O Israel?
How can I make you like Admah?
How can I treat you like Zeboiim?
My heart recoils within me;
my compassion grows warm and tender.
I will not execute my burning anger;
I will not again destroy Ephraim;
for I am God and not a man,
the Holy One in your midst,
and I will not come in wrath. 

The Definition of “Emergency” or, a Brief Study in Semantics

Emily G. (driving): Can you open the Lifesavers for me?

Me (opening the Lifesavers’ wrapper): Do you ever drive with your knees?

Emily G.: Only if it’s an emergency.

Me: What qualifies as an emergency?

Emily G: Well, if I’m eating a sandwich.

So there you have it, ladies and gents. According to Emily G., Emergency = Eating a Sandwich.

I have emergencies rather frequently.

Onward.

Despite record low outdoor temperatures (and the not significantly warmer  sleeping areas), the retreat in Minnesota this weekend was wonderful.

Some of the most encouraging verses from an amazing time in the Word were these:

1 Corinthians 1:26-31

“For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, ‘Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.’”

Isn’t that just great? The Lord gave this foolish, weak, lowly girl the opportunity to simply be a witness of his grace yesterday at my practicum. It was humbling and joyful all at the same time - to be given the opportunity to speak forth the amazing truth of the Gospel - God’s greatest gift of salvation - is a gift in and of itself.

What’s that chattering noise?

My teeth.

This is the weather forecast for where I’ll be tomorrow night. At a retreat in northern MN. In unheated cabins.:

“Partly cloudy in the evening then clearing. Widespread frost after midnight. Lows 22 to 27. West winds 10 to 15 mph becoming southwest around 5 mph late. “

Summer? What’s summer?

Onward.

Another description by God of himself:

Isaiah 45:22-25

“Turn to me and be saved,
all the ends of the earth!
For I am God, and there is no other.
By myself I have sworn;
from my mouth has gone out in righteousness
a word that shall not return:
‘To me every knee shall bow,
every tongue shall swear allegiance.’ 

“Only in the Lord, it shall be said of me,
are righteousness and strength;
to him shall come and be ashamed
all who were incensed against him.                                                                                                                                                       

In the Lord all the offspring of Israel
shall be justified and shall glory.”

Amen.

A not-so-tragic September 11th.

For me, an average American living hundreds of miles away from New York and D.C., today doesn’t feel as sad as the 6 previous 9/11s have.

For the first time since 2001, this day hasn’t felt burdensome. It hasn’t felt so close to the horror and disbelief and the helpless ”where will they hit next” feeling of that Tuesday 6 years ago.

That’s not to say that I’ve forgotten, or didn’t feel an