Losing sleep and other things (Part 1)

I’ve been up for over 2 hours now. The sun is slowly rising on the opposite side of the house, but I am finally able to look out my bedroom window and see the sun’s glistening reflection on the houses across the street. Tis good friends.

I think I’m going to try to get back to blogging more often. I told myself sometime last week that I was going to start writing in my journal again - last year I wrote in my journal a few times a week, but this year it’s even rare to find my pen-written journal entries once a month. I really don’t know why either. I’m a writer at heart, I love words. I expected myself to finally write more in my journal and blog while I’ve been on Christmas break - but with only 3 more days of break, I still haven’t written in my journal and have only posted two blogs.

To be honest with you, I really have no excuse (not that writing is demanded of me) or reason why I haven’t written. Over the past few weeks I’ve had tons to write and share here and in my journal. I’ve had things that have drastically changed my life, things that I’ve been learning, times spent with dear people, an emotional “meltdown,” and times spent with God that are worth sharing. I have no reason other than maybe I don’t want to take the time to share it, or find the words to explain.

Some of the very things listed above are the things that have left me with very few hours of sleep in the past few weeks. It’s more than just the expected insomnia on my part, this time. I’m normally one to be in bed by 10 or 10:30 everynight, with countless times of waking up during the “wee” hours. But Friday night by 9 o’clock my body was aching and I was terribly tired, but my mind wouldn’t slow down and my heart wouldn’t still. I stayed in my bedroom randomly switching through tv channels, checking things on my laptop, replying to emails, having a heavy heart and a busy mind. I finally laid down in bed after having some time with Jesus at 2am, and still didn’t get to sleep until alittle before 3. For some reason the more tired I got the less easier it was to sleep. And why? Because my mind was busy, jumping from thing to thing, bringing to my attention the things that I need to tend to that I haven’t. Like, the very things that have left me with no sleep…. the thing that has become a passion and burden.

Ahh…. pure joy. (Yes, I am kidding. *grin*)

I am one who normally misses out on sleep when things aren’t going to well - or as I mentioned above, I have too many things to tend to at once. The last few weeks have been insane. Things have happened and I did not expect them to, (not necessarily bad) things that have left me losing hours of sleep in the past 2 weeks, times of weeping bitterly over it, times of pacing my room during late nights thinking heavy upon it, times with God that has left me doing all of the things above, and weekly nightmares during the past few weeks.

Now you are probably thinking: ‘Well, Teresa tell us what thing has led you to lose sleep, have nights of late crying, pacing your room for hours, and weekly nightmares. Tell us!’

Well, the thing is, is that I’m not telling. *grin* I feel like a 10 year old school girl having a secret and saying to one of her ‘friends’ “well I’m not telling you, only I/we can know!” and walking off with one of those grins that leaves you wanting to know even more. Well, I’m not that 10 year old school girl. But, I think this is one of the very reasons I’ve lacked writing. Because there is one thing that I want to share when I write - but I’m hesitant. I’ve started a few blogs that have led me to sharing this very thing, but I’ve deleted them all. Why? To be honest, I don’t know, I’m just hestitant in sharing this. Sharing this very thing that has led to weekly nightmares and nights of no sleep.

Maybe I am more like the 10 year old girl than I thought.

I will share soon friends, I just ask for your prayers first of all. This very thing is a huge passion and burden of mine and has changed my life in certain ways over the past few weeks. I will share soon friends.

(if you did not read my last blog, “Humane,” please do)
More later….
Teresa

"Humane."

Good morning friends….

I’ve been awake for over an hour now. It’s nearly 8:30 in the morning, and I can see through the glimpses of the open curtain that the morning sun is finally beginning to fully rise. The tv is mindlessly running, I think it’s the weather channel; we’re expecting snow sometime on Sunday. We’re getting snow a week after Christmas, a week before, but not the day of; it never makes sense. *grin*

I’ve had something on my mind for the past few days that I’ve wanted to write about; so I’m going to share it here with you even though I’m not exactly sure how to start…. so bear with me and forgive me if I don’t do so well.

Sometime last week I looked up the word “humane” a few days after hearing it spoken in one of my classes. In case you did not know; one of the definitions of humane is: “kind and good.” When I read that I have to chuckle and question it. If that’s the true definition of humanity, then I’m wondering what we truly are… truth is, people have a wrong view of humanity. Our intentions may be kind and good, but we ourselves, are not.

In my History class my teacher somehow jumped from the topic of a certain war to the issue of terrorism and terrorists. Now, I’m not one to leave the room when terrorists are mentioned (I know people who hate talking about it) but I am one to get defensive when judgements are thrown upon people. He said something along the line of: “Terrorists are not humane. When you think of a terrorist what do you see? A Middle-Eastern man, wearing a thing on his head (I was going to speak up and say the name for it but didn’t) and he’s probably an extremist in his religion.”

The only thing that stood out in my mind from what he said (besides the fact that he said ‘thing on his head’) was the fact that he had ‘groups’ of people to which a terrorist would belong…

1) A man
2) Middle-Eastern
3) Of a certain religon

Now… I am not a man, nor am I a Middle Eastern beliver in this religion that he was refering to… but my face turned red, my blood boiled, and my eyes glared. Why? Not because I haven’t recognized that most people of terrorism have come from this very background but because now that we realize that these are the backgrounds of people that we fear - sometimes we tend to fear them even when all these things aren’t combined.

We (as Americans, not you or I personally) tend to resist, be hesitant toward, or have fear of people of the Middle East. We see someone or know someone who is a Muslim and wonder if they’re an extremist. I’ve seen this evident… and I hate it.

I do have one question though. The word “terrorism” or “terrorist” is it only seen as one who allows suicide bombings, or flying into American buildings? If so, then yes, my teacher was right - the 3 characteristics that he mentioned were ones that are often defined terrorists, and are the only terrorists. But when I looked up the word I found the definition: “Terrorism is a term used to describe violence or other harmful acts committed (or threatened) against civilians by groups or persons.” So, if terrorism is someone creating any terror in anyone then isn’t terrorism also planning school shootings, killing innocent people, persecuting Christians, allowing slavery 200 years ago and now modern-day slavery….

I don’t think terrorism is reserved or expected only from (as my teacher said) a Middle-Eastern man of the Muslim religon. I think we are (as Americans, not you or I personally) blind to see that terror is laid upon other people because of others actions. If terror is the mere object of terrorism, then we have terrorist in America, not only overseas.

These very judgements, of the ones that my teacher said, are like people pointing toward African Americans and coming to a conclusion that all African Americans will sometime end up doing drugs, on the street or in prison. It’s like people of a different background besides something that leads to white skin saying that all people who are white are judgemental and have hatred toward anyone else different than them; or that all Christians are too narrow-minded. It seems to me that we (all people) have allowed oursevles to expect certain things from certain people.

Okay, I’m not here to preach, and in fact that’s not even why I’m writing. I had no intention on going on a word spree like this. So I’ll stop, but please do think about what I shared as you leave this. I think I’m just tired of judgements laid upon other people - so I guess deep down I knew a “word spree” was expected. *grin* All of this because of simple words said in a class.

More later,
Teresa

Mending things…

Ahh… its been over a week since I’ve written. I kept looking at the date of my last blog during this week and wondered why I haven’t written. I’ve had things to share, but for some reason I just haven’t shared them.

I’m a writer, I love the power of words, I’m drawn to them. Infact, I think I love the power of written words more then when they are actually spoken. Anyway, this is to say, even though I love the written word, sometimes I get stuck. Sometimes I find myself erasing every word I write on here because the words seem to fail to describe what I intended to share. I get stuck sometimes. I think that’s where I’ve been this week and that’s what had led to the lack of writing.

A few weeks ago I spent time with Caroline, a very dear friend of mine. She is amazing; and probably one of the people in my life who knows me best. When I spend time with her I do it having a kind of expectancy… (let me explain)

She’s a 26 year old woman (I’ve always been one to get along better with people older than me rather then someone my age) with a husband (who is my Youth Pastor) and a one year old daughter, and yet child-likeness is so evident in her being. She randomly dances in the Kitchen, no matter what she’s doing - cooking, talking, singing, thinking, doing dishes, sorting papers. She makes some of the best silly faces I have ever seen; I can’t help but laugh. Playing, hiking, and exploring in the woods comes joyously to her; infact, we went hiking a few weeks ago and she insisted that she be the leader of the crew. She finds joy in simple things.

The evening I was with her we talked on my ride home from her house. I had felt so stuck and had been dealing with quite a struggle. She let me pour out every thought and feeling, and allowed all of my words to be filled with complete honesty. (if you haven’t read my post before this one, about writing and honesty please do!) She gets me… she has a listening ear and heart, and when she spoke it only created new thoughts in me - things that I hadn’t even realized until she shared them.

Earlier that week I told Britt (my sweet sister) that week had been filled with some of the hardest days in my life; and that is no exaggeration friends.

Truth is… I had been struggling with a private sin. No one knew about it, I hadn’t even recognized it; but when I did it hit me like a forced cannon shot. One that keeps repeating its hit until you surrender to move and get out of the way. One that repeats until you admit the fact that the cannon shot hitting you was deserved, and that the only way to get the shot to stop is to admit that you were wrong for doing the thing you did that led to the cannon shot in the first place.

It took me 6 years to finally realize that this big part of my life was sin. As long as I was keeping certain thoughts and feelings, my distance, hatred, selfishness, and unforgiveness towards a certain person - that I was living in sin against God. Call it whatever you want to - stubbornness, blindness.. whatever it may be.

That week on Sunday evening I was on car ride home from youth group with my friend, Jess. She simply asked me how I was doing and after ‘beating around the bush’ I bluntly told her that I had been struggling spiritually, with certain things at home and with loneliness. Somehow she got to the just of what I was saying (I will skip some words said) and we realized that I was clearly living in sin.

I told her my thoughts and feelings toward a person - ones that I’ve been having for the past 6 years. She knew what this person had done to cause them, and I told her that I hadn’t forgiven that person. Jess told me that I was commanded to forgive as a follower of Jesus - and we both recognized that if I wouldn’t forgive this person then I would be knowingly living in sin against God…. and I cannot put into words how much that broke me.

Friends, honestly, I have never been more fearful of God than I was that week. Everytime I came before Him I asked desperately for mercy - that the feeling of conviction would not leave until I forgave this person and asked God for His forgiveness for not doing so sooner and not at all.

That Tuesday night was probably one of the hardest. If my bedroom door had been unlocked and someone had walked in - I probably would’ve looked pretty hysterical to them. Because I had done something that I only find myself doing when I’m truly humbled, desperate, broken, poor and needy. I made my way off of my bed, filled with tears I crawled on the floor and layed there before God on my hands and knees. My fists were gripping the carpet with every word I prayed and every tear I cried. Most of the time the only words that I could hear myself utter were: “God please have mercy on me. I cannot do this on my own, if I do, I will make the wrong decision. I feel so distant, I am desperate for You Lord. And, I never wanted to become okay with my own sin.”

The next 6 days had been one of the hardest days of my life. Questions were asked of me by Caroline and Jess that made me fear what my answer would be. I found myself knowingly living in sin - I had become okay with my own sin, something I had ’sworn’ that I would never do. And I had allowed my bitterness toward someone stop me from being faithful to God.

When I talked to Jess and Caroline I told them that I had fear of forigving this person. I told them that I didn’t want to forgive this person because forgiving them meant that I had to mend things - and for some reason my bitterness toward this person was more comfortable for me rather then mending things… For some reason I would rather be angry, frusterated, and hurt rather then have to admit the fact that I needed to forgive someone and be forgiven - that seems like a kind of weakness to me. I guess somewhere along the way, something taught me that it wasn’t okay to be vunerable, weak or honest and that if you were then you’d be giving someone the upper hand in your life and the chance to hurt you again. Forgiving someone and mending something, for some reason, in my mind that was a type of weakness.

In that week I learned a few things:
1)That pride and selfishness was possibly the root of my unforgiveness. 2)That I didn’t fear that the sin this person had done against me would happen again; but that I wanted to just hold onto my bitterness on the fact that it had happened before. 3)And that Jesus not only died for my sin in the past but for my sin here and now, and in the future (yes, I’ve been a follower of Jesus for 2 years and that has finally settled in.) 4) Also that it’s hard for me to know that if this person hadn’t done what they did than maybe the just of my past would be different. Maybe I wouldn’t have made most of the mistakes I did during the ages of 10-13… Hmm… I guess I’m a “maybe” and “what if” kind of girl.

Friends… after 2 weeks of struggling with this I finally did come to this person and bluntly told them all the things I’ve shared with you - which led to me forgiving them. He just so happens to be my Dad. For 6 years I had held bitterness towards him, distanced myself from him, wished he hadn’t been a part of my life, wondered why he was the way he was, felt abandoned, felt unwanted, and felt unloved. Honestly though, many of those things may stay with me. When I talked to another friend of mine, Nance, about this I told her bluntly that I was fearful that maybe things wouldn’t change after I forgave him. That maybe my dad would be the same dad, that maybe the feelings of abandonment, unwanted, and unloved would still take place in my very being. It’s no longer a fear of mending things, but of realizing that I’m the only one willing to press on to that. I’m never promised that someone will react the way I do or want them to, or that feelings of my childhood will ever go away - I am promised that if I don’t forgive than I won’t be forgiven.

I don’t know if any of you know of a certain person by the name of Shawn McDonald. I love his music, I’ve been to a concert of his once, but sadly, I haven’t had the chance to meet him. But, as I’m writing this I’m listening to one of my favorite songs of his that isn’t yet on a cd… During these last few weeks no song has ever felt more personal… here are a few of the lyrics I want to share with you.

Pride walk out the door
I don’t need you anymore
I can do it on my own
won’t you please leave me alone

Hate walk out the door
I don’t need you anymore
I can do this on my own
won’t you please leave me alone

All we need is love
Yes, all we need is love

If you pray, I could desperately use some prayer. I am never enough to change myself and on my own I am nothing. I want to leave my comfort behind me, I want to desperately seek Jesus and realize what it truly means to be a follower of Him… to obey His commandments even when it means going against what my flesh wants. And pray for the merciful move of the Lord cutting off the branches in me that aren’t honoring to Him (John 15).

Once again, thanks for reading…

Honesty and the written word…

Good evening friends…

I don’t know what it is about me - but lately I’ve been wanting to write on here more then in my own journal. I’ve also grown to realize that I’m becoming one who isn’t afraid of honesty - even though it hasn’t always been that way. I’ve realized that I’m one who can easily “bear my soul” when it comes to the written word.

Hmm….

I’m writing this because I’m trying to become at peace with it. But, surprisingly, I’m wrestling with it quite a bit…

I’m not wrestling with the fact that I love the written word, or that I tend to give more then just a glimpse into my heart when it comes to the written word. In fact, I tend to lean more toward loving that honesty. Loving that I can “bear my soul” when it comes to the written word. There’s something in me that willingly wants to do that and share honestly - rather then censor my feelings or be one to take a step back.

But, surprisingly, I’m wrestling with how others will respond towards my honesty. I’m wrestling with the fact that not everyone favors honesty like I do, and that not everyone will favor that in my writings here. I don’t think I should be wondering if I should share all that I want to or not, but for some reason I am.

Let me be blunt and completely honest for a moment…

I think people are terrified of honesty. For some reason people tend to take a step back when honesty or a “bearing soul” is expected. And I don’t know why (if you do, seriously, please tell me - I’ve wondered about that for years!) But that makes me question how people will respond to the fact that I’m not one about censored feelings or making something seem better or worse than it is (even though I used to be.) I’m full of honesty and I long for that in life and in written words. But, I’m wrestling with the fact that someone may not like my honesty shown here - that someone may be turned off or offended by it. That someone may think that I’m too honest, or that “more then just a glimpse into my heart” is just too much.

Sometimes I think people would rather tell you a lie then the truth. For some reason I think some people would rather tell you what they think you want to hear instead of the truth. For some reason I think people censor their feelings because of that. I used to do all of these things…

…Now, I never want to be someone who just “throws it all out there,” who doesn’t allow anything to be personal; but naturally, I love the written word and have grown to love honesty. And when those things come hand-in-hand… I’m happy. *grin*

Simply - it’s who I am. But, for some reason this has been in my heart and on my mind. I’m trying to make peace with it, and the fact that everyone here may not like my honesty. It’s been making me hold back on things that I want to write or have been writing… and some things haven’t been shared because of that.

Please share friends, I’d really like your thoughts on this…

Good night friends…

A glimpse of the Kingdom…

It’s roughly 9am in the morning and I’m sitting here in my pajamas… I’m surrounded by nothing but the stillness that came with this morning and the sweet sound of Shawn McDonald.

I woke up this morning at 6:30 to seeing a sky full of different shades of morning blues, glistening snow on rooftops and morning dew on the grass. I couldn’t help but smile.

I also (gladly) woke up to an empty house. My mom and Britt are out Christmas shopping, (this year I chose not to go, I’ve never really been a fan of it. This year I chose not to buy gifts. I’m putting all of the money I’d spend on gifts towards the organization I support, Gospel For Asia- http://www.gfa.org/) my dad is out running morning errands, and my brother Shawn (the only one of the four brothers who still lives at home) decided to make his way to a friends yesterday evening and stayed there for the night.

It was good to wake up to nothing but stillness and silence, knowing that my time with Jesus was going to be spent that way. I’ve been having a heavy-heart lately; but still, I’m in awe of it all…

I thought of something last night that happened months ago. I woke up this morning with it on my mind again, and thought I’d share it with you all. BUT, before I share I have to clarify something…

A few months ago I wrote a blog about a missions trip that I was planning on taking to India through Gospel For Asia this upcoming Summer. Many people have been asking me about it, and I wanted to let you guys know that is not happening anymore. Right now, I don’t feel like sharing the story or details of why not, but maybe I will in a later post.

Now… onto what I was going to share.

In June I was at a camp that I’ve been going to for years. I’ve been going to this Christian Camp since I was 10, that’s even before I became a follower of Jesus.

This year was no different then the others. Except for the fact that I felt that I had a heavier heart than ever; and I was desperately trying not to let that show. I was struggling immensly spiritually, loneliness had once again become a well known ‘friend’ in my life, and I was struggling with things about India. There was one day at camp that these things played even bigger roles in my life…

That morning I made my way to the tabernacle, outside in the sweltering heat. (I don’t know how people live in the South 24/7, when to me Ohio summers are damaging. *grin*) And when I sat down with the lovely ladies in my cabin and listened to the young man teach that morning and we worshipped; I couldn’t help but notice that a young lady a few rows away from me kept looking in my direction. When this young man was teaching I kept passing glances in her direction. The longer he taught the more I realized that she wasn’t only looking in my direction but directly at me.

Now… I am naturally a quiet and shy one. I don’t like people staring at me, I used to have a fear of looking people in the eye, I love meeting new people although I’m not good at it, I don’t accept compliments well… And having someone whom I didn’t know staring at me, wasn’t well taken on my behalf.

When the young man finished speaking I was one of the last ones out of the tabernacle. Everyone had cleared out except me, the band who had played, a few young campers in the back, the man who had taught, and this young lady in her early twenties who had been staring at me during some of the time in the tabernacle. She was sitting on one of the benches near the door that I was making my way to exit.

When I was close to leaving the tabernacle she surprisingly said to me: “can I talk with you for a moment?” So, after making my way over to her she said to me: “I know you don’t know who I am and I don’t know you, but I know someone who just met you. Jason Driver (look at blogs from this August, one entitled “No More Excuses”) shared with all of the counselors about how you had talked with him about India. He said you have such a heart for it and yet you’re struggling about going. I’m not here to talk with you about that…” After I let myself settle with the fact that Jason had shared what I told him about India with 12 other people, I simply said okay, wondering what it was then that she had called me over here for.

She hesitated, tried starting her sentences but getting no where. When after moments of sitting there she finally said: “I’ve been watching you a lot this week. Honestly, I don’t know what it is about you but you’ve been drawn to my attention, and obviously Jason’s as well. I don’t know you at all but from watching you - you seem like one of the most Godly young women that I have ever seen.” At that moment my jaw dropped. I had been staring down at the bench that I was sitting on while she was talking, but now I couldn’t help but look her in the face. Thoughts were running through my mind but the only word I could get out was “what?” And she said: “Yes, you seem to be one of the most Godly young women that I have ever seen. I see Him in you.”

After she said those words all of the things that I had been struggling with suddenly came rushing to my mind. I told her that I hadn’t been ‘feeling’ very Godly. That I had been struggling with pride, distractions, loneliness, forgiveness, a heavy-heart, and doubt. Nearly 5 times I repeatedly said to her: “how can you see me as someone Godly when right now I don’t see it in myself? You don’t even know me. I don’t understand this at all.” She simply said back to me: “You’ve been laid on my heart. You are a Godly young woman, whether you believe it right now or not - I see it. And we’re all going to struggle with things - but that doesn’t make you less of God’s or less Godly.” She left me with the words “I can’t wait to see what God has in store for you.” Her and I left eachother with a hug. And I walked away in awe…

I think that night during my time with Jesus I repeatedly said the words: ‘let me see myself the way she (I soon learned her name was Anne) saw me today, and the way that You continue to see me Jesus.’

I shared a few months back with a dear friend of mine, that for some reason I think we tend to usually see the bad in ourselves. I know I do, I’m a pro! *grin* I told her that maybe the reason we see the bad in ourselves so easily is because out of all people, we know ourselves the best. She agreed with me.

I went to bed last night and woke up this morning with those times on my mind and in my heart again. And I wanted to share them with you…

A question lately that has been on my mind is “how do we (as the Church) be the the Kingdom? And reflect the Kingdom?” I shared with a sweet someone earlier this week that so often I long for people to be the Kingdom towards me… I think 5 months ago Anne’s simple words gave me a glimpse of the Kingdom.

I’ve been working on two other posts, so more later…
Teresa

A weekend and a book

Hello friends. I was going to write yesterday but I got to do something I haven’t done in months. Something that most of us long for throughout the day. Something I’ve been thinking about nonstop for the past few weeks. Something I’ve been desperately wanting for the past few weeks as well. *drum roll please*…

I got to take a nap. Did it add up to the hype? *grin*

Anyway…

This weekend I made my way up North near Sandusky or Mansfield, Ohio. 17 of us from my Youth Group were going on a Retreat with our Youth Pastor Phil and his lovely wife (my dear friend) Caroline. Britt and I were talking about it Thursday night. She told me that she wanted to stay home more then go on the retreat. I didn’t tell her this, but I agreed completely.

Friday evening I sat next to my dear friend Caroline as she was driving, as we were making our way a few hours to the Retreat with 6 girls in the backseat. Most of the time when her and I weren’t talking or engaging in conversation or laughter from the backseat, I found myself gazing out the window or leaning foward with my elbow on my knee and my chin in my hand, wondering why I wasn’t reacting the way I wish I was toward the retreat. While back home, after paying $40 and packing I had almost changed my mind completely in deciding not to go. Thank God that I didn’t…

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I truly need to get away. Sometimes I’m desperate for it. Sometimes I truly need to be surrounded by people who are desperate for Jesus and love Him as much as I do; people who are broken, poor, needy, joyful, loving, free, compassionate, saved, desperate, and who want pure devotion. Friends… it was amazing to soak in.

Praise God.

Before I get to the meat of this blog, I want to ask for prayer friends. We got a call from my 9 year old neice yesterday; sadly, while I was napping. She told us that her grandmother had just died of cancer a few hours before that. Today my family and I are making our way to the viewing - I knew this lovely woman alittle when I was younger. I just ask for your prayers - for my neice and nephew and their Mom. Just pray that we can comfort them; and just that they would allow this to be a time that they would seek out Jesus and allow Him to save and comfort them…

On happier note…
If you know me at all, even just a tad, you know that I’m one who loves to read. I gained a love for it sometime after I began following Jesus. When I began following Jesus alittle over 2 years ago, I wanted to soak in everything about the Christian faith. Besides the Bible I read books by C.S. Lewis, Mark Buchanan, Donald Miller and Brennan Manning. Thankfully, I still love it.

I’m not one who normally likes fiction. Infact if you’d ask me, I’d most likely tell you that I hate it… and hate is a strong word. In the past few weeks I’ve learned that I don’t necessarily hate fiction; but I only like well-written fiction. Why am I sharing this? Because… that should give you a glimpse at just how remarkable this book that I’m about to share truly is.

The Kite Runner…

I know the The author is Khaled Hosseini. He is from Kabul Afghanistan and I’m pretty sure he’s a Muslim. I could be like a lot of people are today and allow those things to make me flinch, and take a step back. But I try not to be like a lot of people. And that has led me to believe he has to be one of the most well-written men.

I normally devour books. This one I took my time with. It almost seemed like if I read it too fast and too soon, I wouldn’t get the full affect, that I’d be missing someting.

“There’s a way to be good again” is one of the phrases used multiple times throughout this book. I’ve started questioning it this week. I know that Hosseini’s words and my thoughts on this probably differ. I know that in the book the main man wants to be “good” again to experience forgiveness and not hold onto his regrets from the past. But, the one thought that comes to my mind is that the way to be made “good” doesn’t really exsist. I only think there is a Way to be made clean and forgiven - and that’s through God. I think even being made clean and forgiven won’t completely make me good - because I still sin.

This has to be one of the best books that I’ve read. It is a novel about 2 young boys living in Afghanistan who differ greatly socially. One is rich another his servant. These young boys are friends, but their relationship is an odd one… but maybe one that I think we may experience or witness more then we think. One boy betrays the other and things end up a mess. But, the story unfolds in redemption, in brokenness and forgiveness… a young man truly wanting to know if he has a way to be “good” again.

Hmm… leave it to a novel by a young man in Afghanistan - to bring forth the question, “can we really be “good?”‘ For me, that doesn’t need questioned… but obviously Hosseini questioned it, I bet others do as well…

Please share your thoughts friends…

Teresa

Change….

It’s November and I was hoping that was enough of a reason for me to write… but it’s not. But, I’m writing anyway…

I’m sitting in a room with the humming of the fan and the sound of Bethany Dillon filling these ears. It always seems that way. The humming of the fan and music flowing aimlessly while sharing what’s been in my life and on my heart.

Life has been busy. One thing piling ontop of another, but still good. On Monday or Tuesday night I talked to a sweet friend of mine who lives on the other side of country. Most of our conversations consist of what God is doing in our lives, what we’re learning, coffee we’ve drank, books we’ve been reading, what people have said or been doing in our lives, and the ‘day-to-day’ happenings.

That evening our conversation started the same. Talked about things that filled that day when we both said that we’ve felt completely consumed. I don’t know about you - but I have never had anyone else say those words to me. I have never heard someone bluntly say to me (I’m normally the only one) “I feel completely consumed.” But, I said to to Mel and she quickly told me that she agreed and felt the same. Whew…

I don’t know about you; but I often wish there were a “pause” button that I could press when things surprisingly start moving too quickly or I just need a break. I can imagine ATLEAST a few of you know where I’m coming from. *grin* I’ve heard it said.

Last night I was with a dear friend of mine. I was sitting at the bar in her Kitchen (which is a famous place for our conversations) while she was doing something in the Kitchen. Out of the blue she asked me something along the line of: “Is there change?” I was more then kind of confused - I probably sat there giving her a blank stare; the kind that states “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I don’t even think I asked her to exlplain, but she continued to say: “Is God working in you; is He changing you?” For some reason the answer to that question seemed complicated. I kept starting my possible response with “Well, see” and not getting any farther. Then finally I told her that I’ve felt a bit stuck. I’ve felt distracted and comsumed with a lot of things. I’ve been desperate for Jesus.

For some reason I’ve come to be one who believes that when I feel like I’m standing still or feeling stuck that no work is being done. That nothing is possibly being taught or changed. Which I’m trying to also face the fact - that can’t possible be true because God isn’t an idle God.

Right now Bethany Dillon’s words are echoing in my ears:
You change me,
You change me.
Thank you Jesus,
I can see, You change me.

I’ve felt stuck, desperate, idle, needy, poor. (Psalm 86) And during the moments of prayer in my room I’ve lately found the words “Jesus, don’t let me stay where I am.” But last night I was thinking about the conversation me and Nance had about God’s changing us, and it made me think that my motivation behind those words were wrong. Last night I sat thinking about my time with God over the past few weeks and those words “Jesus, don’t let me stay where I am” echoed over and over again in my mind. But, I kept thinking that my motivation was that I’d be brought of this place of desperation and feeling stuck and consumed, and be brought to the place of its oppsite. But the more I think about that the more I realize it’s wrong. I think my motivation behind those words should be more like - wanting to be matured and growing, wanting not to stay in this place but to keep moving and growing in Jesus.

More later friends….

Teresa

Less words but just as good….

Hello friends…

I feel like I haven’t written much lately; but when I do it seems to be big and in depth… sometimes an overload. Is that just me or are you feeling it too? But I think my lack of writing has kept people from reading and commenting… so, I really hope there are still a few of you reading.

Anyway….

The house is quiet. I’m in a room by myself with the humming of the fan and Shawn McDonald’s voice being the only things entering these ears. Honestly friends, I love it. I feel like I could sigh a sigh of relief right now.

Its been a crazy week. Friends home from college. Looking for a job. Really late nights and phone calls (which deserves a blog of itself. I’m hoping to write about that before I leave for Michigan on Friday morning.) Pressures of school. A family of friends of mine moved. Two dear friends of mine experienced a death… and lets add desperately seeking Jesus onto the list.

I am more tired and worn then I thought. This morning while having time with Jesus I muttered the words “I wish things would slow down” after letting out a long sigh. One of those sighs you breathe when you realize that what you want isn’t exactly what you’re going to get. *grin*

Yesterday I shared with a friend of mine who was home from college how I’ve been doing. I bluntly told her the truth, that its been a hard season yet a good one. That things have been hard and I’ve been pulled and pushed and forced into so many directions… and yet its been good. I smiled with her after sharing those words.

Her and I shared about how we both sometimes feel that there always seems to be atleast one thing that is pulling at us - and that a purely good season has been hard to find lately. How true those words feel!

While mentioning the topic of college..
Yesterday I got to see some dear friends of mine who are home from college. Four friends of mine came home this week for Fall break and two of them I got to spend time with yesterday. It amazes me sometimes how you expect people to be different (I didn’t expect this - but I’ve heard it said) after you haven’t seen them for an amount of time, how you expect them to look and act different, and not relate with you at all. Gladly (and expectedly), those assumptions weren’t true at all.

Quickly jumping onto something else….

I woke up this morning alittle after 5:30 (yes that’s AM - I can picture a few of you wincing at the thought of that *grin*) and after getting ready for my day and having some time with Jesus I looked out the kitchen window. The very spot that I often found myself 2 years ago during the summer mornings. I’d sit there sipping on some cappuccino while the sun was rising. I thought of that this morning while I looked out the window to see a pale blue morning sky filled with the darkest, puffiest, clouds I had ever seen.

Nearly an hour after that I looked out the very same window to see the sun rising and the sky filled with a hint of orange and dark pink. The dark puffy clouds were now bright white and the beams of the morning sun were peaking through. I sat there smiling, wishing, again, that time would slow down. I wanted to take a picture… but then I’d miss minutes of what I was seeing. And those few minutes were SO WORTH IT!

The picture of that is engraved in my mind and the feelings I had while seeing that is left in me. Completely amazing friends.

I have more I want to share… which I will try to do before I leave for Michigan on Friday.

Please check out a few of the last blogs if you haven’t…

Teresa

A few thoughts…

It’s 7:30 in the morning and it’s still dark outside. I think that is something I’ve always liked about Summer - the sun rises at 6am…

How are you doing friends?… What have you been up to? What have you been reading, watching, listening to, feeling, learning? I’d really like to know.

I had 2 friends share something with me this week. Saturday afternoon I got a text message from a friend of mine telling me that a dear friend of hers had died. She said that she was out of town and that someone had to call her to let her know that her friend had died.

Yesterday my cellphone rang to let me know that I had another text message. Another friend of mine was letting me know that a friend of hers was killed in a car accident and left a daughter behind.

I have never experienced death personally - no one close to me has ever died. But when I got these words from these friends I can’t help but be grieved over it. Yesterday morning I spent the whole morning getting ready for the day and having time with Jesus while crying over (the first mentioned) the friend of mine.

Yesterday while sitting in my room after getting both messages I started wondering how in the world will I deal with death at a personal level? I started imagining the grief that could and would take hold of me. Then I started thinking of people that I love dearly and imagined them leaving the earth and taking their last breath.

It doesn’t seem real, friends. Death doesn’t seem real. To imagine someone leaving the earth and taking their last breath isn’t fathomable. It seems fake, made up. Something I can’t begin to grasp….

But,yesterday I kept trying to truly grasp all of this at once. (Yes, I just said it’s something I can’t grasp - so apparently I was doing something impossible). People dying. Friends suffering. Losing someone. Grief that could take hold of me. But, I don’t think it’s something that can be fully grasped at all.

Within the last 4 days those are somethings that are getting LOUD in me. Things that have been circling over and over again in my mind… and thoughts and words that just won’t leave me alone.

Please do pray for these friends of mine. I long to be with them and comforting them - one is 2 hours away and the other across the country. Please pray that they would trust that God is the Comforter. His comfort is far better than what mine could be! And please pray for the families of the ones that died as well….

Even Jesus wept when Lazarus died… if Jesus reacts in the same way we do - then I’m sure it will never be something easily grasped by man.

If you haven’t already, please read my last blog.

Teresa

A Waste…

I woke up around 6 this morning to find fog outside. And hours later I was looking out the window to still see patches of fog and air that looked misty, with the sun’s rising beams beneath the roofs of houses across the street. And for some reason, I’ve loved that this morning. Its made me smile.

I know my last blog was not so short and not so sweet; but those words shared about places I have been in. Anyone who read and commented, read, or is yet to do either of those… I thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts about the places I’ve been in and my honesty.

In the midst of these things this morning I decided that I’m really going to get back to blogging. Believe it or not, I’ve missed writing here frequently and reading what other people think of the things that I’ve shared. The past few weeks I’ve been wanting to write but it just hasn’t been flowing, friends…. but alas, I’m writing today and with one thing in mind…

I don’t know if you have ever heard someone say something or do something that doesn’t seem to leave your mind or heart, even days after the words were said… but, this occasion seemed to bump into me Sunday night.

I shared with you in my last blog that I was with a few people who were sharing what has been on our hearts and about delighting in God - and how our words were just filled with honesty when sharing with one another. When we circled and prayed together we decided to go out to eat afterwards.

We were all sitting eating the food that we had just ordered when a young man in suite and tie suddenly comes up to my seat and leans next to me asking “Are you saved?” I looked at him and said “yes” expecting that he’d notice the confidence in my answer and walk away. But he didn’t. He said back to me “are you sure?” After the few shocking seconds of realizing that he had asked me again I answered “yes, I’m positive.” And he walked away placing a tiny piece of paper on the table in front of me reading words that I can’t remember, but things about abortion and supporting and loving the unborn.

After walking away from our table this young man (whom I soon found that he knew some of the people I was with that night, and that this young mans’ name was Jason) approached an older man sitting at the table diagonal from us, with the newspaper held above his face and his eyes scanning every word. Jason walked up to him and asked “Do you know Jesus? Are you saved.” The older man wasn’t distracted at all by Jason or his words - moments after Jason asked this question his eyes were still scanning every word. (by this time if Jason had looked over at my table he would’ve known that I was hooked and listening to every word that would be spoken by the two of them.) Jason leaned in closer to the man and asked “Do you go to Church regularly?” And the older man folded down his paper (by this time he was filled irritation) and said “I don’t think that’s any of your bussiness” and he stormed out of the resturaunt with his coffee and paper in hand, leaving Jason standing there.

After walking away from the table and doing ‘this and that’ Jason made his way back to our table. He stood there for a moment at the end of the table, where I was sitting; and he suddenly said “Did you hear that guy?” I/we shook our heads yes… and Jason said “He can just go to Hell! He’s a jerk!” At the end of that sentence I quickly looked towards Jason, who was right beside me, and said in brokenness “Man, what? What in the world did you just say?” And at that moment he shrugged his shoulders saying “well?” and walked away.

I have never been filled with such anger and brokenness at the same time. My face was hot, my throat was dry, and my heart was breaking. Those words were repeating over and over again - and this had only been nearly a minute after Jason had walked away. I looked around the table at the 10 dear friends of mine sitting with me that had just heard what this man had said. I said to them: “How in the world can he say that? What if we all treated the lost that way!?” And one said back to me “Teresa I think he was joking.” I’m sorry… but that is the least funniest joke that I have ever heard….

During the rest of our time there I was fighting back tears and repeatedly saying/asking “how in the world could he say that?”

I went home that night and ran into my room, locked the door, paced around my room praying with tears streaming down my face. I think I came to the point where my prayer wasn’t a whisper or an average volumed voice… I was broken and angry before God. I paced around the room constantly saying to and asking God countless words and questions about what had just filled an hour of my life.

These thoughts are still running through my mind and tearing at my heart.

Seriously friends, what if we ALL treated the lost that way? I do not understand how this young man walked up this older man with one thing in my mind: telling him about Jesus; and walked away thinking: he can go to Hell. Friends, we have a short time to walk to people with the intention that Jason first had… I have no idea how I will react if I find that we’d ALL walk away with the thoughts that Jason had while leaving this man.

What a waste of our lives. What a wasted life.

It has made me sick friends. If we are the Church, then lets act like it. The moment we take the words “he can just go to Hell” lightly, that is the moment that the lost just become another “group” of people in our minds, that is when anger fills our hearts and minds rather then love towards them. That is when telling them about Jesus is maybe, just maybe on our Top 10 list.

Seriously friends, have we really forgotten what the Church has always been about? Christ crucified, Him saving the lost and calling us to Him and to die to ourselves, and to show others Who He is. If Jason showed me a clear picture of how the Church is being represented or portrayed today - then Church, we need to wake up and truly be the Church - the followers of the one and only God.

It’s funny the more I think about it - I don’t ever remember reading the Bible and seeing that Jesus was complacent about people and them going to Hell. He never hinted at “you can just go to Hell.” His voice was never aloof, He never wanted someone to go to Hell because they didn’t respond the way He wished they had; He never wished for that. Friends, why would we condemn (with our words) someone to the Place we had just tried turning them (with God’s work in our lives - we could never do that alone - we aren’t God) away from?

Those are all the words I can seem to find right now. This is heavy on my heart and circling over and over again in my mind…

Good night friends…
SEEK Jesus and BE His!