When today started, I was in a weirdly good mood. I woke up and shouted to the universe, “Hello World! I am in a Very Good Mood!” I was in a whistling-while-walking mood. A the-wind-between-my-neck-and-hair-is-poetry mood.

Today, the weather is perfect–“Colombian weather” my friend from Columbia would say, or “California weather” my friend from California would say. Today, the leaves were falling so slowly that by the end of my 20 minute walk, I had caught so many lucky leaves that I felt the luck pouring out of my ears.

The morning fog lent the world a glowing fairy tale feel to it, and as I crossed the street, I saw Icarus just starting to take flight (whereas every other day this  week, the same statue was of Icarus mid-fall), and the-less-famous-white-house on the mountain peeped out from behind him. My thoughts this morning were “I am the most blessed person in the entire world” and “I hope God deals with others as tenderly and personally as He has with me.”

Singing on the corner and laughing to myself and if there was a Cloud 10, that’s where my head was.

In fluid mechanics, I watched a peer spin around with a huge bubble wand and make, as my professor very seriously explained, 2D flow fields everywhere.

In a small local restaurant, I had lunch with a friend I haven’t seen for ages and there was much laughter and storytelling and good food and delicious iced-tea-and-lemonade.

I came home and found the brownies my roommate made to celebrate our success for the second year of managing to be best friends while living in an 8 foot wide room. I settled down in my fancy living room bench to start a lab report that wasn’t due for another four days (I know, seriously getting ahead here) and then I remembered my phone was dead.

I stuck my phone in the charger and then I saw the telltale new voicemail symbol. I put my phone on speaker and heard the words from them that had rejected me saying, “I have good news.”

And I, lacking any logical emotional response system, found all the airy-happy-go-lucky feelings that had been encompassing me all day popping like 2D flowfields.

You say “I have good news” and I say now? Now I am afraid.

I fell from Cloud 10 and into the stronghold of the God who surrounds me and hid there. It is a good feeling to have this oasis. The safety and security of a loving God is irreplaceable.

There have been times where I have regretted the safe decisions I have made all my life. I have wished for prodigal living: the younger son not only got to party all day, but also received and understood the grace more than his older counterpart in that he came home. Sometime I wish I would get that come home experience because sometimes I am sick of being  in the house all the time. Sometimes I wish I had rebellious teenage years. Sometimes I think I would enjoy sinning recklessly.

Then God goes and does something like this. Whispers that He (remarkably) does not think the way I do. That He does not think much of my simple, silly pride and that, hard as I try, sometimes I just can’t read His signs… correctly.

Thus I find the life of an ordinary, boring, non-rebellious Christian like myself quite a rollercoaster. Cloud 10 confidence to safely hiding my face behind God’s legs like a toddler behind his father.

And I am at peace.


A Burden of Unspoken Words

I thought I should preface this with something, but then I decided that was a terrible idea. After previewing this post, I again felt certain that it needed a preface, and so here I am, prefacing my letter with a discussion on the “to preface or not to preface debate.” This is probably worse than either my original preface or no preface at all, but when faced with a decision of a rock and hard place, I tend to commit suicide in the middle.

words-i-should-sayImage courtesy http://shakinglikeamountain.com/

My dear friend,

I wish you could know what I know. I wish you could see what I see and hear what I hear. I wish you knew that God loves you in a way no one else is capable of, with a depth no one can measure, with a breadth farther than even heavenly eyes can see. Love that could never be captured by the imagination, even the imagination of Tchaikovsky or Faulkner or Einstein or a combination of all three, or the exponential of that combination. Love that surpasses a romance but can only be described in terms of Bride and Groom because there are no words and no parallel for Divine love. The Love of One who knows your inner parts, who hasn’t just walked into your heart or delved past the outer gardens–this is the One who planted the flowers there, built the castle, chose every color and wove in every detail. This is He who counts the very hairs on your head, and not one falls without His permission. He is Love and His love transcends everything. All our mistakes and failings and unworthiness. I want that Love for you.

I want you to feel His presence all around you. I wish you could know the way it feels when He snuggles up by your soul, or the comfort of His hands holding your heart so tenderly, so tenderly. You say you like hot coca in the winter and warm apple crisp in the fall? This is so far superior to hot coca that I almost crossed out that line.

I wish your arms and the back of your neck could know the chills of Divine intervention, that moment when a mere mortal recognizes the glory of All-Powerful God working for her an eternal glory. You would see the wisdom in His eyes and you would know when He says “Everything is going to be alright,” His words are far from empty.

I wish you could know the security God brings to a life: meaning behind every tribulation, peace for the heart in every situation. My friend meet my God, Creator of the Stars. For some incomprehensible reason, He loves us so much that He counts every one of our tears.

I won’t tell you it’s easy, or that it will make all your problems go away, or that you’ll become rich and less insecure and All Better. I would never lie to you like that.

But even though it’s not all better, it is infinitely better. And even though less insecure always feels eons away, there is some comfort in acknowledging that in the eyes of King of All That Ever Was or Will Be your hidden person of the heart is precious. Your bank account won’t grow with renewed vigor, but giving up all control to His grace and blessings does have a way of five-loaves-and-two-fishing on you.

He is strength for the weak, hope for the hopeless, replenishment for every sorrowful soul.

Oh my friend, you are in a troubled day. And in between praying for you earnestly through the intercessions of all the saints, I ask God what He was thinking, placing you in a room with such a shy dunderhead of a Christian. I think He is trying to offer me the chance to bring a soul to Him, but my mouth might as well be boarded up for all the words tumbling out of me.

Oh my friend, I tell you all the time that you are loved. And it is as you assume, that I am saying you are loved by me. But there is One so much greater than I, One whose sandal strap I am not worthy to see, let alone touch or, God forbid, unfasten.

I want you to know how much He loves you.

With all sincerity,
Your sister in so many ways (but wanting to be your sister in Christ.)