Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Choice

Every day it's a choice. Satisfaction in my completeness in You Father or loneliness. Some days are good choices, some days are bad.
Lord, you are the only one who gives the wisdom and the strength to fully accept being a serving, open, satisfied single in the midst of the whispers and roars of incompletion that this world has to offer. Lord, only you can guide our minds to meditate on Your wonder and Your magnificence.


Lord, only You breathe hope into our days and teach our hearts to rest in satisfaction. Only You complete us in every way imaginable. Lover of our minds, bodies and souls, grant me a good choice day today. Please, Lord. Captivate my mind in meditations of You. Capture me in Your beauty and grace that turning away would seem impossible and ridiculous. Come, Lord, come. Help me choose to walk in Your ways today. Lord, please be glorified more and more through this frail flesh and this inconstant heart. Lead my mind to adopt a lifestyle of consistency. Lord, please, to You be all the glory. My ego most definitely does not need any boost. Please, Lord, teach my mind to find satisfaction in less recognition until I am finally able to become completely nothing and You will be my everything.

Lord, I adore You. Please, Lord... do great wonders today. All for Your glory. God, and I pray to just get to watch and applaud today. I love seeing You work. Thank You for blessing me with a sight that You have developed to be far deeper than any mere eyes can accomplish. Lord, You are phenomenal. You are absolutely overwhelm my heart in Your Beauty.

You are beautiful, Lord.

Absolutely Beautiful.

Monday, August 29, 2005

Go to Darkness



So today I pack up my things from home and head back to school. There is much to pack, much to store away in the basement and much to clean up in order to best leave this place. I am not sure when I will next return to this little house, but I am sure it will be much different when next I come to visit. I am blessed to leave with a smile, knowing that the Lord is holding my family in His perfect hands. I have no fear that the Lord is working in this place and continually drawing my family back to Him, again and again.

Last night I said goodbye to my youth girls. They are such sweet little things and tried their best to convince me that I could not leave and that they would absolutely fall apart without me. I have full confidence that they will do none of the sort, but the memory of their hugs and smiling faces is imprinted on my heart. I will have to remember to reclaim that memory when I most need encouragement.

I have felt a strange feeling that this upcoming school year is going to be like nothing I have ever experienced. Isn't life like that? You never can predict what will happen and the Lord is continually growing you and stretching you in new ways. I just pray for devotion in the midst of storms and a continual place of vulnerability for my Lord to work in. I have much to pray for after meeting all my roommates via telephone, with upcoming Crosswalk leadership (excluding the official title), with bible study work and preparations, with a few hurting friends, growing friends, missionary friends, a lost campus, and a year of mission opportunities lying ahead.



Lord, I thank you for the lessons, the trials, the joys and the pains that this summer has provided and all those that lie ahead. You know what is best for me. I trust Your "good." I thank you for continually making me and molding me into the woman of God that you desire me to be. Thank you for humbling my heart in my most prideful moments. Please, never stop. Thank You for breathing beauty into me and helping me embrace it. May You be seen more and more and may I be seen less and less. You illuminate my soul and I pray to reflect Your brilliance. I adore You. I worship You. I breathe for You. Speak Your truths to my heart and attune my ears to Your voice in the midst of noisy lies. Lord you go with me, precede me, and follow me. I am more than willing. Help me serve You better and move with purpose. May You always be my purpose. Ancient of Days, I am ready. But I can only speak these words in Your strength. Come, let's go to the darkness. They desperately need to feel Your light.

Lord, to You be the glory.
You alone are Great.
You alone are Holy.

In Christ's name I am given Life abundantly. Thank You, Lord.
In Christ's name I lift this prayer to You.

amen.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Simple-Minded

'A simple and orderly life represents a clean and orderly mind. Muddled thinking inevitably results in muddled living. A house that is cluttered is usually lived in by people whose minds are also cluttered, who need to simplify their lives. This begins with simplifying and clarifying their thinking. Mind and life need to be freed from the "disorder of the unnecessary."
" ... Be mentally stripped for action, perfectly self-controlled...," is what Peter (1 Peter 1:13) says we must do.'
- Elisabeth Elliot (from "Discipline: The Glad Surrender")
What a phenomenal challenge for those, like myself, who live in clutter. Lord, God, grant me the discipline to simplify my mind and my life that I may better serve You with the fullness of this living sacrifice.

Teach me the wisdom to apply this knowledge.

Please, Lord.


In Christ's name I pray.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Healer, come heal


So wisdom teeth surgery has left me in a bit more pain than has been expected. My surgeon had to take some of the bone on my lower left side and my lower right side was leaning on a nerve. In english, this means that my pain will long outlive my pain pills. At 4 o'clock this morning, I awoke to my newly-built habit of sleeping for the length of a pain pill (6 hours) then awaking and taking another. I am sad to report that only four pain pills remain. Being as how yesterday I tried to ration out the pills and take them only when I absolutely was about to explode and I spent a good section of the day on the bathroom floor, nauseous from the pain; this is a bad thing. My mom said she's going to call into the surgeon's office today if I'm not feeling drastically better. Afterall, it has been 5 days since my surgery and I have yet to advance to solid foods.
Last night I awoke and thought to myself, "Self, Paul really got beaten and battered for standing upon God's word and Christ's love. And at the end of every day, he could take his wounds to Jesus and fall at His feet. He could offer them up as a living sacrifice for his Savior, as an offering for his Lord. I wish I could do the same thing with these wisdom teeth." So I've decided to make the best of the situation. I am quite frustrated because I feel like I'm being so hindered from serving by this recent ailment. People at work need to hear about Jesus, friends need reminders of Christ's love, my Senior High girls need encouragement and sitting here on my butt at home because I can't drive and I have lovely motion sickness is not helping at all! But then I must think about the times that Jesus healed people in the Bible. And I must think about how long some of them were sick before healing. So while I pray and wait for the Healer to come heal me, I'm going to come up with a way to encourage and support God's people from my house. That's right, I'm bound and determined. No wisdom tooth pains are going to keep me from sharing the love of Christ.

Friday, August 19, 2005

Beaver-Face Update

So I'd prefer not to think of myself as a chipmunk because my face isn't THAT swollen. But I guess thinking of myself as a Beaver will do. Afterall, Beavers have sorta fat faces, but they are cute. Lol. So at least I can be cute and fat. =)

So my body is tired and I'm on pain meds, which is nice cause that means I can't feel the pain ... yet. But my mind is wide awake. On the ride home I was talking to my mom. She was struggling desperately to understand my baby-talk, but she put up a good effort to keep from laughing as much as possible. Whenever she would get really quiet I knew it was my turn to ask, "Did you get that?" Hehe. The answer was always "no."

So I slept for about an hour, but in all honesty, I'm not as put out as I thought I'd be. I have a surprisingly good tolerance for sleep-inducing pain meds. Granted, whenever I feel tired, I lay down, but even with the laying down I don't feel myself falling asleep. I'll try to go to bed early tonight though, regardless. I'm doing my best to keep fluids in me, despite all the fluids having an aftertaste of gauze. hehe. Oh and WAY exciting news... I have complete feeling and taste back in my tongue. YES! I can finally taste my lime sherbert. YES!

My bottom lip though... lol... that's a piece of work. I've mastered the ability to drink water w/o it leaking through my chin though. But I really do feel like a baby when my mom notifies me that there's been something hanging on my lip for 10 minutes. Hehe. I hope to regain feeling soon. I've never been punched in the lip before, but I'd imagine that the aftermath would be similar to this. And in case you are wondering... no I'm not really planning or hoping to get punched in the lip further in life in order to compare the two experiences.

One sad thing happened though... I forgot to ask if I could keep m wisdom teeth. Saddening. I really was curious what exactly they looked like and how big they were. Poo-y. Oh well, maybe next time.... wait.... no. (hehe.)

So despite the nearly passing out event this afternoon when I was home by myself and woke up from my nap to find that the pain medication was beginning to wear off. I took the gauze out and suddenly didn't feel so well with sight of it all. Yeah, I broke into a cold sweat like after I gave blood and I debated on whether I should call my mom to notify her that I thought I was going to pass out. See, when I gave blood the ladies seemed to be a little concerned at the fact that I might pass out, so I figured my mom would want to know. But instead of calling, since my mouth hurt and I wondered if she'd be able to understand me anyway, I just took down some motrin (which apparently I wasn't supposed to.. oops.) and put some ice on my face while laying down. I felt better after a little while. So, despite that incident, I am doing quite well. I am taking my meds cause there's no way that I'm going to try to hinder this healing process by my pride of thinking I can handle the pain. NO WAY! I'll happily label myself a baby if it means I heal better and feel less of the throbbing. =)



Thank you to all you who prayed for me this afternoon. I think only like 3 of you occasionally read my blog, but to the three... and to the others... thank you. I really appreciate you helping to fight that battle in heaven. I am doing quite well and I am positive that it is because #1, God is good and #2, your prayers helped a lot.

And Kel, if you ever read this, thank you for calling me. I was starting to get quite scared and it was good to hear your voice, even if I made you late to work (sorry bout that one).


So with beaver cheeks... I'm signing off for tonight. G'night all.

I'm Not Ready

The time has come and I'm not ready. Though I'm not sure if I'll ever be. It's time to get my wisdom teeth removed. I am to get them out at 10:30. And i'm freaked. Never been to the hosiptal and I most definately don't want them puting me to sleep.


God, please hold my hand.


I need You.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Obedient Steps

Went to the orthopedic surgeon's office yesterday. Drove past emergency care at the Bethesda North hospital. Wow, some scary thoughts went through my mind as I drove by. I thought about all the ambulances I have seen in the past few weeks. All the ambulances I had prayed for became a little more realistic as I drove by their destination. I almost felt like speeding by because I didn't want to be in the way of any more arriving aid. But then again, I also didn't want to hit someone as I drove by either.

I finally found the surgeon's office, it's tucked nicely behind Bethesda North's main hospital building. I wandered on in and smelled that lovely hospital aroma. I hate that smell. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to work at Bethesda and smell that same smell every day. I guess you'd get used to it though.

So the surgeon confirmed exactly what I already knew... the wisdom teeth? They got to go.
I learned all about the general procedure and possible faulty outcomes of the surgery; you know like my lower lip loosing all function because they accidentally mess up the nerve that connects my brain to my lip, or my mouth not healing right and leaving a sensitive nerve exposed which would cause great pain in my lower jaw (mandible).

Then they sent me out into the waiting room and said they'd call me back in to schedule.

I sat in the waiting room trying my best not to freak out and call for my mommy. I thought about Kelly and wished she was with me right then. I thought to myself, "Self, you are so silly for not bringing someone with you! You should have brought mom. Then she could handle all this and tell you that there's nothing to freak out about and she would have just made things better." And then the thought occurred to me, "I want Kelly and mom."

I was broken from my thoughts by the billing/scheduling lady. And before I knew it, I was sent back out of the office with a paper saying, "Your surgery date is Friday August 19th at 10:20AM."

When I got out to the car, I looked down at the piece of paper and nearly started crying.

I don't want to have surgery. I've never even broken an arm. I've never been to the hospital. I don't want to go to the hospital. My head started replaying all the stories of me visiting my mom in the hospital after her various surgeries. I remember how tired she looked, how sick she felt and how I wanted to take her home right then, but we couldn't. I don't want to be put to sleep. And an IV? I remembered mom's bruises and horror stories. No way, I don't want one of those. And what if I don't wake up from the sleeping meds? NO way! I'll just keep my wisdoms. Yeah, I'll just live through the pain. It's not natural for someone to put me into a coma-like state. That's like playing with fire. I don't want to pretend to be dead. What if God decides I should stay that way? Or what if it's for His glory for me to never recover?

I could feel my eyes tearing up and I did the only thing I knew to do, I started the car and drove across the street to my mom's work.

I went inside, walked into the back office and sat on the floor at my mom's feet. She was on the phone, but I most certainly didn't mind just sitting there for a while.

"What's up?" She asked, hinting toward my visit.

I handed her the paper. "Friday at 10:20."

"This Friday?!" She was surprised. "Ok." She looked back down at me. "You want me to go with you, don't you."

I didn't say anything.

"Ok. I'll be there." She got up to notify her boss.

"I saw the IV needle." I mentioned when she came back.

"Hey, Dr. Moreira, can you come here for a second? Have you ever given an IV?" She asked when Dr. Moreira came nearby.
"Yes." Came the Doctor's Spanish accent.

"Does it hurt worse than giving blood?"

"Oh, no. Not at all."

"See, there's nothing to worry about." My mom smiled at me, knowing she had just read my mind.


I returned home, grabbed my blanket and my fox and sat down on the couch in the quiet, dark house. I wished Kelly was there again. Maybe she'd be able to tell me that she would pray for me during the whole thing or at least just sit there with me and say something that would make me smile. I prayed for a little while and God reminded me that I am beautiful. I smiled. And I sat.

I'm still scared. Not scared because I don't think that God is in control, but nervous, once again, to be gently pushed out of my comfort zone. I know that God can do many works during vulnerability. But I also know that vulnerability hurts.

So I am open. Scared, but open. And I think that just maybe in this act of faith, I am learning a very good lesson in obedience. I may be scared, but it doesn't mean I should stop moving forward.



I trust You, Lord. I love You.

Monday, August 15, 2005

Heavenly Rain

Oh what a glorious day!
How You bless me.
You ... I just can't find the words...


Lord, I long for you to come sit with me. Wrap Your arms around me. I wish I could feel Your sweet kisses on my forehead. Your warm, comforting embrace.

But Your physical return has not occurred yet, though I wish You would come.

So, instead, I will grab my blanky and my fox... put on a nice pair of warm socks and comfy clothes... and sink into the comforts of the livingroom couch. There I can imagine the warmth of Your arms around me as I wrap myself in my blanket. And there I can imagine your gentle kisses as I watch the heavenly rain sooth the thirsting earth. And there I can meditate on Your blessings that embrace me during my life. Lord, I wish I could just sit there until You return. But I know, that this hour will conclude and soon, my Lord, You will call me back out to Your broken people. There is much work to be done, many lives to be saved. Yes, Lord, I feel Your calling. But I also feel Your sweet words...

"Rest, my child... for now, rest..."






There are no words to describe what I desire to say to You in this moment.

Thank You for understanding.






I love you, Lord.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Odd or Fanatical Life-Style

'Any "soldier", any candidate for Christian discipline, ought daily to report to his commanding officer for duty. At your service, Lord. What the soldier does for the officer is not in the category of a favor. The officer may ask anything. He disposes of the soldier as he chooses. The very thought strikes honor to the modern mind. "Nobody's going to tell me what to do. Nobody has the right to dispose of me."

This pattern of thinking has its powerful effect on Christians as well, so that we have come to imagine that discipleship is somehow an "extra." We suppose that we can be Christians, going to church, saying our prayers, singing those sweet songs about loving and feeling and sharing and praising, without taking our share of hardship. Those who wish to make a special bid for sainthood, we tell ourselves, might try discipline ("it has its place") as though it were an odd or fanatical life-style, not the thing for most of us.

It is as though we might be Christians without being disciples.


"Yes, I want to be a Christian, but no, I don't want to be Your disciple, Lord. Not yet, anyway. It's a bit much to expect."


"Yes, I'll be a disciple, but no, I certainly don't want to leave self behind."


"I'll leave self behind if You say so, Lord, but don't ask me to take up any crosses. I'm not sure I'd feel comfortable with that."


"Follow You, Lord? Well, yes, sure-but let me have a little input, won't You, about where we're going?"


Nothing could be further from the spirit of the Gospel. The very reason Christ died "... was that men, while still in life, should cease to live for themselves, and should live for him who for their sake died and was raised to life."


To be a Christian in New Testament terms is to be a disciple. There are no two ways about it. We have a Savior who has forgiven and saved us from the penalty of sin. Most of us would happily settle for that. But He died to save us also from
our sins, many of which we love and hate to part with. Christ could not have done this if He were not Lord over all the powers of evil. Jesus Christ is Savior because He is Lord. He is Lord because He is Savior. I cannot be saved from my sins unless I am also saved from myself, so Christ must be "commanding officer" in my life.'

- phenomenal excerpt from "Discipline:
The Glad Surrender" by Elisabeth Elliot

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Overcome

I can see that my hands are trembling, 
I can see that my legs are weak,
I can see that my head is spinning,
But I will overcome.


And I know that my heart is hurting,
And I know that my soul it aches,
And I know that it seems I'm failing,
But I will overcome,
I will overcome.



Oh Lord I am Strong in You,
Oh Lord I am Wise in You,
Oh Lord I can see in You,
So I will Overcome.

Oh Lord I am Loved by You,
Oh Lord I am Free in You,
Oh Lord I'm complete in You,
So I will overcome.
I will overcome.
I will overcome! Yeah!





- I love You, Lord. Thank You.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Blue/Gray Thinning Carpets

So today I went doorhanging (putting adds/coupons on people's homes) in order to advertise for W.g. Grinders. Vince (the general manager) and I went. As much as it was uncomfortable to be out and about with him, I am blessed to have gotten a chance to be my independent self as well. We split up for a bit to better cover an area.

At first we went to a housing development. I felt bad walking across people's lawns. I felt like I was infringing upon their space. I was unwelcome. Uninvited. But as the heat ate into my body and slowly dehydrated my mind, I began to feel less concerned about stepping on people's brown, dead grass.

After an hour and a half of doorhanging out in the heat, Vince and I met back at the car and decided that we should look for apartment housing so that the walking distance would be drastically less.

I knew of a few, but wasn't too familiar with apartments. Not in this area that's for sure.

In the first apartment building that I entered, I smelled a smell that I haven't smelled in a long while. It's funny how all apartments seem to smell the same. I guess it's the same stale, over-airconditioned, slightly smoke-induced, off-brand cleaner fuemed air.

Immediately I was blasted back to Sharon Park Lane. I remebered walking up the concrete flight of stairs up to Megan Apple's apartment. My eleven year-old hand, running up the sticky banner. That same stale smell. Those same crusty walls. The same scratched doorknockers. And that tiny, smudged peephole that every avid apartment liver uses to help them distinguish the pizza guy from the last criminal who escaped jail. Odd though how we can easily decided, "friend or foe" by looking at the 3 cemtinmeter image through the peephole. None-the-less, the memories of finding Megan stuck once again watching her 2 wild nephews and her developmentally challenged 4 year old brother came to mind. The memories of small children without diapers running about a dark, dirty apartment flooded my thoughts. I smiled. It's funny how I thought it was so cool to live in an apartment and yet at the same time, I couldn't wait to leave.

I hung my fliers and went back outside.

We moved on to the next apartment development. It was a huge apartment zone. From the extreior it appeared to be more "upper class" than the apartments that I am used to. But much like all other things, the outside is never a true reflection of the inside. Vince and I split up, being as how there were so many, and I tackled a cluster of buildings and Vince took another cluster across the street.

Despite building upon the previous memories, these apartments brought a few new memories to mind. All of a sudden I was walking into the side door of a familiar place.

I stepped onto the same blue/gray thinning carpets. The off-colored walls attempted to hide years of dirt and grease. And yet I was disappointed when the first apartment on the left did not read "Q". That's right, I was thinking of the first time I used the front door of Kelly's apartment. I remember thinking, "Woah! She really does live in an apartment." Because to me, it had always been a house that we just entered from the back patio.

It's odd how the word "house" never refers to the buildig with four walls that everyone else seems to be referring to. "House" to me means well.... wherever I'm living. House in California was a one-story duplex where we shared a wall with neighbors who had 2 pitbulls and a really cool little boy named Cody that I used to play with. House when we first moved here referred to our one-story well... house that we were renting from some man that I never met before. The house was changed to a two-story townhouse where Jes (my sister) and I shared a room. Then it became a two-story townhouse where Jes and I did not share a room and mom and dad got a room. Then it became a place off of ZigZag Road where my dad's friend's parents had lived, but wanted to have us watch while they were out of town for a year. That house, I remember, seemed to bring much relief to my mother. She would always say, "Oh, it's so good to be in a house." And the main thing that I remember about the place? It had a basement (like the COOLEST thing EVER!) and the trees would always drop a million leaves that my dad would have to rake up. And then house was defined as 8042 School Rd, which is America's stereotypical definition of a house. It is owned by my parents. It is my mom's little cottage of gardening joys and my dad's foundation of accomplishment. It represents change, ownership, and years and years of hard work to bring a small family of four into a new world of oportunity. And then... "house" became a dorm room. And then an apartment (an advanced dormroom, since we're still attached to campus and FIN AID pays the rent). I have lived in many houses and I am sure I will live in many more.

I came to one door. Immediately connected with it because outside of the house there lay three bikes, random "outside toy" pieces, a pair of dirty flip-flops, some broken pieces of who-knows-what, and various other things that had been taken outside and forgotten about. i remmeber mom yelling at me to "pick up your things" and "don't take that outside" and "you must bring everything back in, someone could take it". But this door had something that ours did not. In the middle there was an Air Force sticker. As I hung our coupons, I heard a mom talking to her son inside. She spoke over the world's greatest babysitter, the TV, and various other children's voices were heard in the distance. I can't really recall what words she said because her tone spoke her broken only-parent exhaustion louder than her words.

Driving home from work, I din't listen to the radio, which is odd for me. Instead, I wondered, what other places will I call "house". Where will I go? Will it be a grass hutt? Will it be a Queens apartment, or a Colorado cottage? And then as if someone whispered it in my ear, it suddenly occurred to me; all of the houses that I saw today could have been classified into two categories; grateful and ungrateful. Now these are superficial categories that in no way describe the people within the households. But please stick with me on this tanget. Those houses and apartments that appeared grateful were neat, orderly, and well-kept. Whereas those that did not appear grateful were ascew, dirty, and chaotic. Now I could not find a place for the Air Force household and a few others that carried similar qualities. They appeared to desire order, but just be fighting a loosing battle against large quantities of demanding tasks.

But this thought evolved into something a bit more personal than mere observations.

I thought: The Lord has blessed me with everything that I have. So i should take care of it. I can grumble about how I don't have what others have, or how I can't afford to be where I'd like to be. But the fact still remains the same. The Lord gave me everything that I have from the earrings in my ears to the computer on the make-shift desk. Since everything happens for a reason, wasting His blessings should not be a task high on my to-do list.

I slowed down the car and became more mindful of my lead foot. The ord has given me this car, I should take care of it. I thought about the boxes in the basement. I thought about my chest of drawers that was handed down from a friend. I thought about my bunkbeds that I still have from third childhood. Those bunkbeds that I've de-bunked and rearranged in order to create a more "colege friendly" single bed. I laughed. It's still my "ever so awesome" childhood bunkbeds. But that's okay. God has given me that. It is His way of blessing me. And I take pride in that bed.

And I came to the conclusion as I pulled into the cracked driveway of 8042 School Rd,

Who I am is less me and more You, my God, every day.

Everything that I have, God, You have given me.

Everything is here for a reason and is Your blessing.

Thank You, God.


I will take better care of what You give me.





I love You.

After the Ice Cream Falls.

So I was reading an old high school friend's away message. She was talking about the pursuit of happiness and it said, "Every once in a while yu have to pause from your pursuit of happiness and just be happy."

So that got me to thinking...

(I know.... we're all in trouble when I start thinking.)

Are we pursuing happiness, or living it?


Cause to me personally, pursuing happiness means that I have yet to find and acheive happiness. And to me, that statement is sad. If happiness were not temporary, I would perfer not to be pursuing happiness, but instead to be living happiness. And since bad days happen too, living happiness is inacheivable for an extended period of time. So, looking at things realistically, I would prefer to be living joy.


See, happiness is a fleeting feeling. It's like the feeling you get when you get your favorite ice cream cone (ooooohhh.... ice cream!!!). But if you trip and the ice cream falls, then the happiness is soon tunred to sadness. Joy is looking at the situation realistically and after the ice cream falls, leaving the situation with a smile. Now don't confuse joy with optimism. Optimism is thinking, "Well, at least you got 3 licks of my ice cream before it fell" or "Oh well, there will be other times for more ice cream." But even after a statement of optimism, despite the sound of contentment in your voice, you may not actually be satisfied with the situation. And let's face it, our words can never bring us permanent satisfaction. Only God can satisfy our hearts. So joy, in this example, would be, "You know what, that stinks that my ice cream fell. I really liked that ice cream. But, I'm not going to let it affect the rest of my day. I have still been given this day as an oportunity to praise the Lord, so ice cream of no ice cream... my praise will be continual." Cheesy? You bet.. but come on... the example was cheesy in the first place.. I had very little to work with.... (excuses, excuses) the point is not how silly my example was, but how joy is a continual look at the big picture... a continual look to God, despite worldly situations.


Joy can be and is defined as happiness in all situations. The fuel for joy in my mind is meditating on God's character and my salvation through Christ. Because, then in midst of trials and tribulations, I am continually reminding myself that God has the trump card, I am forever pledged as His child in Christ, and that God deserves all of my praise at all times. That can bring a smile to my face in the middle of the rain.

So I have a question for you...

Are you pursuing happiness,

relying on optimism to fuel you,

or are you living
joy after the ice cream falls?

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Hated, but Enduring

"You will be hated by all because of My name, but it is the one who has endured to the end who will be saved." - Jesus (Matthew 10:22)











Enough said for today.