Revive Me

by Jeremy Camp

Consider my affliction and please deliver me
Plead my cause and redeem me
Salvation is not for the wicked
For they don't seek your word
Great are your tender mercies Lord

Revive me, according to your loving kindness
Revive me, that I may seek you
Revive me, according to your loving kindness
Revive me, oh Lord

You give me understanding
According to your word
Great peace for those who seek your face
I long for salvation
My lips shall praise your name
I rejoice in the treasure of your keep

Revive me, according to your loving kindness
Revive me, that I may seek your word
Revive me, according to your loving kindness
Revive me, oh Lord

For all my ways are before you
I let your hand become my help
My soul longs and adores you
Let my cry come before you oh Lord

Revive me, according to your loving kindness
Revive me, that I may seek your word
Revive me, according to your loving kindness
Revive me, oh Lord

Oh, Revive me
Revive me

... that's all for today.

Narcotics

It was shortly after one and a family of four waked into the New Fusion Buffet.

"Hello. How many for today?" I asked. I know, I know, wasn't it obvious? But you never know, some people have groups that they eat with.

I brought them to their table and as I turned to return to the hostess booth, the eight year old boy handed me a piece of paper.

"Here's your ticket to Heaven." He said with a smile and moved on to his chair.
"What?" I was confused because I didn't hear what the child said and the first thing that came to my mind was that he was trying to sell me something.

"It's your ticket to Heaven." The father clarified.

"Oh, thanks." I said and walked off.
How cute! The little boy wants to share Jesus with everyone, I thought as I returned to the booth.

And then I read the track title,

"From Narcotics to the Nazarene."

Didn't think I looked that bad this morning.

An Eggroll

So I went into a little Chinese place , New Fusion Buffet, on Wednesday because they had a "hiring" sign out and I needed a job. After debating on whether my ethnicity would drastically affect my chances of achieving employment at this little place, I hesitantly walked inside. I noticed that everyone working there was Chinese and I felt even worse. I don't really know if I expected any non-Chinese people to be working there, but I surely hoped for it.

You should just turn around and run out. I thought. Or better yet... get n eggroll to go and then turn around and run out.

The little Chinese lady looked about my age or maybe a little older (though, I think all Chinese people look young) and she walked over to me with raised eyebrows.

"Hi, I was wondering if I could pick up an application?" I spouted off the line I had memorized and used quite frequently since I came here to Cincinnati for the summer.

She just smiled and pointed to another girl walked quickly over. It was then that I realized that Chinese girl #1 (for lack of a better classification system.. aka... I don't know her name or I would have stated it) did not speak English.

"Yes?" The other girl, who again looked like she was my age, inquired.

I repeated the familiar line again, feeling more hopeless than before.

"Yeah. We don't have application. I'll ask you just a few questions. The job is for a hostess who stands there (she motioned to a little stand with a notified on it). You can come on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays from 11-2 and 5-8? You come 11-2 and then leave and come back 5-8. Then you get 6.75 an hour in cash. We pay in cash. So, you start Friday?"

"Ummm.... Ok." I said, still processing what she was saying.

"Ok, so, see you Friday." She turned to leave. "Oh, I should get some information. You worked before?"

"Yeah, lots of places." Came my professional answer. "Churches, a college, and a pet store."

"Ok. Write down your name and your phone number." She handed me a piece of paper and a pen. While I wrote, she wrote her name on a menu with the phone number of the place on it.

"See you Friday." She announced when I was through and that was it.





Odd... but I have a job...
well... at least till I find other work.

Service and Hope

Thank You Lord, for Your reminders that service is for You and You alone.





Lord, please help me to learn hope in all this.
Optimism fails in hours, but hope surpasses a lifetime.




I love You.

Bigger

So maybe this is bigger than I thought. I know that You are always Bigger. I know that You bring strength to the weak. You are the Provider of life and Life abundantly. If I need something, You have promised that you will supply it.

Lord? Father? Hold my hand, please. You promised never to leave me. I want to hear You. Even if it's just an exhale. I just want to feel You close. Please, Lord?
Only You can complete me. Only You can make me feel secure and loved. Only You can make me feel home.



Was Paul ever afraid? As he left his family and friends, as he spoke out radically for Your name, as he was thrown out of churches and cities, was he ever fearful? Did he ever look back? Did he ever have even a flicker of fear?

Please, Lord. Teach my heart to be like Paul. Teach my mind to rest in Your securities, in Your provisions, in all that You have lain. Please, Lord, teach my heart to find more completion in You. Teach me to walk on, boldly, and proclaim Your Truth and Your standards without fear of loosing those who mean the most to me.

Lord, You are worth so much more than anything I could ever desire. Help me never to forget that. Whisper that Truth in my ear when I doubt and when I fear.














I'll go.
Send me!

Whatever the cost, I'll go!









You are Bigger.

"Home"

~ An environment offering security and happiness.
~A valued place regarded as a refuge or place of origin.

How easily Webster defines a place that every soul longs to find.

On my 20th birthday Kelly made note that I refer to a lot of places as "home". My parent's house in Cincinnati was "home", my apartment at WSU was "home" and even Kelly's apartment in Kettering is "home". Being the amazing best friend that she is, she gave me a set of dishes, randomly dispersed throughout the three places that I call home, so that when I am at each location I would feel more at home by using the "normal" dishware. Sweet, isn't she?

I was filling out an application yesterday and my mom, in mistakedly hearing my question wrong, spouted off the address of this little house on school road.

"Mom, I know our address, I was asking where this store is located."

After answering my question, she added, "You don't consider this home do you?"

I answered before I thought (always a good technique) "No, actually, I don't."

Woah! Did I just say that? Wait... do I mean that? ... I do! I really don't consider this place home anymore. Every time I come here I feel like I'm a guest. I am re-explained the rules of the house, I am asked what I eat now, and my mom tells me the same stories that she tells me every time I am here. Is this a nightmare? Could I possibly be this much of a visitor in my own "home"? I do feel like a guest, a visitor, an old friend of the family's that they've adopted to be "like" family.

I called Kelly at midnight last night after the house had been shut down for hours. Everyone inside was sleeping and I went outside to keep from waking anyone. I was sitting on the side steps when Kelly answered her phone and I heard her voice. Suddenly a wash of homesickness came over me. I wanted to go home. It took everything within me to keep from getting my car keys and heading to Dayton. But where would I go?

I moved out of my apartment in College Park before coming down here. Yeah, there's still furniture left in there that I will get before I am forced to completely move out at the end of the summer. It was so weird taking all my memories from the walls and seeing my room plain... boring... and way too white for my taste. The room down here is yellow. But there are rules in hanging things on the wall. I defied the rules in putting up the huge Happy Birthday balloon that Kelly got for me on my birthday last year. Every time I see it, it reminds me that my best friend cares about me so much to go through all the trouble to get that balloon (And believe me, there was trouble to get it) in order to delight in a few seconds of joy as she watches the smile on my face.

Alas... home... my definitions of home have changed. In regards to a building that I would define as home? As of right now... Kelly's apartment is the only home that feels like home anymore.

I realised that I am a nomad. I live out of my car; packing everything up and rolling out of any location at the drop of a hat. I'm flexible, fluid, but... without a home.



"Oh, that You would rend the heavens and come down [today]..." (Is 64:1)












I just want to go home...

Character thoughts

[Taken from a letter to my best friend...]
School teaches you to turn on your brain for grades and during class. But, once you go home, then what? Then do whatever you want, but by all means, don’t analyze or interpret your own life. Don't evaluate your own character. No, leave that for the classroom. Analyze and interpret other people’s lives and characters. Dead people, ah, yes, far more interesting, far more beneficial. But when it comes to your own character building… eh… don’t worry about it.
But God is obsessed with our characters. I know that God is obsessed with the heart. So when it comes to the memorizing of historians, mathematical equations, events, grammar rules, sentence structures, biological construction of animals, theatrical shows, etc… that is pushed to the back burner. If we are to call ourselves Christians, if we are to call ourselves seekers of God’s heart, then we sure better begin to see through His eyes and not our own. The heart. If we could describe the heart through mathematical equations, events, grammar rules, etc then there would be no reason for God. We would have it all figured out and the mystery of the way that God has molded and formed each of us would not be a mystery anymore.

We are told in elementary school to “find out who we are” and “learn about ourselves”. We took countless self-analysis surveys. “What’s your favorite color?”, “What’s your favorite food?” Question after question. And no matter how corny the questions were, we were learning about the magnificent creation that our Creator has made.
Well, we’ve advanced beyond the “What’s your favorite food” questions. Those questions have long been exhausted. But the idea has not been emphasized enough. If we are to truly surrender ourselves fully to God, we must desire to be broken open as an offering in every flaw and every beauty that He has placed within us. But how are we to put everything on the altar if we don’t even know who we are?

I am not saying in any way that we will ever know who we are, but God teaches us more and more about ourselves. As we see more of our own characters, we get the opportunity to place it on the altar and say, “Lord, I am so unworthy. You are amazing, in all aspects. You are all knowing. You are Creator. To You be the glory.”

But if we are not desiring to know our own characters, then how can we even begin to grow into the one that the Lord has created us to be?

My Prince

I can recall as a child watching endless Disney movies about princesses in far, far away places. I'm not sure whether I chose to watch these films or my mother chose for me in an effort to get me to sit still, but regardless, I soon found myself, like every other girl, longing to become a part of a fairytale myself.
My sister and I would dress in long, beautiful dresses (my dad's old t-shirts) and imitate songs from the princess movies about falling in love. I find it quite interesting how at the age of 6 I had a full and complete understanding that I was incomplete and that my heart must wait for her Prince.

This morning in the shower, Cinderella's love song came into my head. Resisting the urge to break out into a full concert presentation of the piece, I hummed the tune as I sang the lyrics in my head.

"So this is love (hum). So this love... so this is what makes life complete."

Wait, what?! Did I just say love makes life complete? Christ's love does. But Cinderella most definitely is not referring to Christ as she waltzes about with the handsome prince.

"My heart has wings (hum) and I can fly. I'll touch every star in the sky. So this is the miracle that I've been dreaming of. So this is love (hum) so this is love."

Wow, and as I recall, there's a line in the song that says, "the key to all Heaven is mine."

Amazing how quickly the world creeps in, huh?

I mean don't get me wrong, I'm not proposing that we ban together and storm Disney. (In a gravely, British voice) "Grab your torch and pitchforks." But the world sure does creep in in unexpected places. Innocent movies about the poor, unloved princesses finding a home and happiness in a beautiful castle may not be portraying the messages that are most beneficial for my ears. Metaphorically you could apply the story of Cinderella to the bride of Christ being united with Christ. Sure, metaphorically you can stretch almost anything to make yourself feel better about entertaining your mind with a message. But in all reality, when a six year old or a four year old sits on the floor and watches story after story about a princess who is completed by her prince, is she really mature enough to understand that human love will never complete her?

Princess stories are fun. Pretending is fun. And one day, our Prince will come, but He will be so much more than any brown haired and blue eyed boy could ever be.

See, I've learned that I must be careful what messages I entertain my mind with. Because as long as I know that it's a fairytale and I monitor just how much time I am devoting to fiction verses reality, then I consider myself to contain the judgment and the wisdom in order to keep from believing ungodly messages. But if I ever grab my hoop-skirt and ascend to the tallest tower to await my prince, I pray that my Prince will come save me from the lies that I can be completed by anything but Himself.

Your voice

So this has been a struggle, not a joy ride, but a struggle. I'm not really sure why I thought it would be a joy ride. Naive. Isn't that funny? I mean, I know that any time I throw myself at You, God, there will always be opposition. And yet it totally caught me off-guard.

One foot in front of the other.
I will follow the sound of Your voice.

Lord, I am learning to take bold steps. Big steps. I trust You to guide me. Teach me to be more obedient. Teach me to be more like Christ. Breathe the breath of Life into me that I may have no desire to look back as I run after You. Set my feet to dancing. Set my heart on fire. Burn away my impurities. Bleach out my pride. Break me into submission that I may learn to worship You in a way that is more satisfying to You. Teach these ears to listen to Your voice and Your voice alone. Speak through me, Lord. Use me as You desire. Lord, I long to be less. Make me so much less. Lord, make me anonymous. I don't deserve glory or praise.

Hold my hand in Yours. Proceed me, follow me and walk beside me.
I need You. I only want You. Take away everything that is not of You.
Please, Lord, make me the woman You desire.

Lead me on and I will run after You.

Reality

So today it becomes real.
Over is not just a thought, but an action,
a final decision.
A wall put up.
Boundaries to be remade.
Distances to keep.
Away. Far Away.

Feelings stifled.
Placed in a jar.
Put on the shelf.

Eyes to the floor.
Awkward.
Uninvited.


Retreat.
Fall back!
Run to your supports.
Safety.
Foundation.
Defend me.
Carry me.




Obedience.
Faithful.
Sacrifice.
Devotion.

Believe.

Believe…

Your Promises never fail.



I know it.

I believe.