So, let's see how quickly I can type all of this up in just under 15 minutes. Part of me thinks I won't do as nearly as good of a job as I want to. Then again, there's really no way to completely explain what happened to me last night, so I'll just go for it!
Last night, after dress rehersal for the Promiseland Christmas production over at church, I went to one of the rooms next door to join in Amped, which is pretty much an all-worship experience for middle schoolers, high schoolers, and young adults, and I guess pretty much anyone else who wanted to show up. Though I entered late, I knew I had made the right decision (rather than staying behind after rehersal to do miscellaneous stuff) because my heart leaped as soon as I entered the room and I couldn't help but raise my hands in joy as the music flooded the air around me while I walked in. I slipped my shoes off and walked over to the opposite side of the room, almost in the corner, so that I had plenty of room and was not standing next to anyone in any of the rows of chairs. I just completely let go and praised and worshipped the God who loves me any everyone else, dancing and singing with all my heart.
And then, sometime during one of the songs (I can't believe I cannot remember which one right now), I got this vision and I completely broke down and started crying as the picture played in my head. It was Jesus stopping in front of me and saying, "This is for you," as he was led away beaten and bleeding to the cross. Flash forward. He was taken down from the cross, and instead of being placed in Mary's arms, he was placed in my arms: my beautiful, broken Savior. The weight of him in my arms knocked the breath out of me and caused me to sob uncontrollably where I was now sitting on the floor of the room. Flash forward again. I was kneeling in Heaven at the feet of Jesus and he was saying, "I love you. This is where you belong, here with me in Heaven, beautiful love." And he gave me a hug just before dissolving away and I was left with tears of awe and sadness and wonder and love streaming down my face.
Then, my friend Katie helped me gather the courage to talk to three of the most wonderful, influential women in my life about my story and how God wants me to share my story somehow with young women. In our discussion in her office, Tara brought up how she thought it would be a good idea to think about speaking for Girlie Night, which is held at our church for middle and high school girls. Then Lisa, Kelly, and Tara prayed over Katie and me; I am so thankful for them and now I am so excited at the prospect of writing everything out and finally presenting it in a couple months!
And later that night, God suddenly struck me with what He wanted me to do for the 30-day challenge in Impact (which I am so thankful for because during small group, when we were supposed to be discussing this, I couldn't come up with anything, and instead preferred to talk about Veronica's giant black stretchy body bag thing that I was running around in earlier). He told me to take what we were talking about in Promiseland (compassion), mix it with what KLOVE is doing (writing letters, "the things you would say" if given the chance), and make it a 30-day challenge (Impact challenge). So now I'm writing one letter to a different person each day for thirty days about how much I love that person and how much he/she means to me in order to spread love and compassion and be more of an embodiement of God's love!
I just couldn't believe how much God worked in those couple of hours last night. It was so amazing and all of this has brought me so much closer to Him and I feel a sense of renewal and am so excited to begin all that He wants me to do!
Monday, December 7, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Speechless and awestruck
Sometimes God does things, and I have no clue why He's doing them, or why He's using me to do them, and even though He gives me the answers, I'm still left in wonder because of His ways.
Take, for example, this past Sunday. See, God had been trying to get me to talk to a friend for a couple of weeks about Him. He just stopped me in the middle of my homework and told me that He wanted me to give this guy, a friend of mine, a message. His message made me smile, and I knew that that was something that this guy needed to hear. But I had no clue how to tell it to him, especially because it always seems like he doesn't want anything to do with God. So I procrastinated. But God kept nudging and nudging and finally I pulled him aside at Impact on Sunday after small groups and I opened myself directly to God and gave my friend the message, God's words through me:
"I love you, and I miss you. I know you're not sure about me at all. But if you ever need to talk, I'm here, waiting to have a relationship with you. I know there's things you're going through, and I know it's hard for you to open and believe. It's okay. I just wanted you to know that I am here, and I hope you come to me. Love, God."
Of course, the answer I get back from my friend: "Couldn't you have told me this over Facebook?"
So I bow my head slightly in embarrassment because I probably could have told him over Facebook, but I felt that it was something that needed to be said in person. But I heard God telling me in my heart that saying this in person was better and that He was glad that I listened to Him. I felt so completely comforted and at peace. Later that evening when I went over to this friend's house to watch a movie, he never once mentioned the message I delivered to him earlier. I don't know what's going on in his head. I just pray that God works in his heart and that he opens up to His amazing love.
And another example of God's ability to leave me speechless:
Last night, I was driving to get gas before meeting up with some friends to study at a bookstore. For the first time, I heard on the radio Steven Curtis Chapman's story behind his song "Heaven is the Face," how his son accidentally ran over and killed his daughter with the car. It shook me, especially thinking about how awful the son must feel about the accident and how the parents feel about the whole situation. And then KLOVE played the song. I heard it in a completely different light as I pulled into the Sam's Club parking lot, from the perspective of a father who has lost his daughter in this accident. I started crying a little bit when he sung "Heaven is a sweet maple syrup kiss/And a thousand other little things I miss with her gone," and eventually I pulled into a parking stall because I couldn't concentrate on driving to the station a short distance away. I just wept, without having a pure reason behind my tears, just listening to the emotion of a father who loved his daughter so much and was now singing about her after her death.
But today, I heard the same song on my drive home from school, and God reached out and touched my heart in a completely different way. I felt like God was singing through Steven Curtis Chapman's lyrics to me: "Heaven is the face of a little girl/With dark brown eyes that disappear when she smiles/Heaven is the place where she calls my name/Says 'Daddy please come play with me for awhile...'/Heaven is the sound of her breathing deep/Lying on my chest, falling fast asleep while I sing/And Heaven is the weight of her in my arms/Being there to keep her safe from harm while she dreams." I felt so much like God's little girl that I was left at the stoplight between Rt. 31 and Crystal Lake Ave. with tears in my eyes and a smile on my face.
I'm His messenger, His daughter, His beloved. And I'm left speechless every time He embraces me and kisses me with sweet words of comfort and of grace and of hope and of love.
Take, for example, this past Sunday. See, God had been trying to get me to talk to a friend for a couple of weeks about Him. He just stopped me in the middle of my homework and told me that He wanted me to give this guy, a friend of mine, a message. His message made me smile, and I knew that that was something that this guy needed to hear. But I had no clue how to tell it to him, especially because it always seems like he doesn't want anything to do with God. So I procrastinated. But God kept nudging and nudging and finally I pulled him aside at Impact on Sunday after small groups and I opened myself directly to God and gave my friend the message, God's words through me:
"I love you, and I miss you. I know you're not sure about me at all. But if you ever need to talk, I'm here, waiting to have a relationship with you. I know there's things you're going through, and I know it's hard for you to open and believe. It's okay. I just wanted you to know that I am here, and I hope you come to me. Love, God."
Of course, the answer I get back from my friend: "Couldn't you have told me this over Facebook?"
So I bow my head slightly in embarrassment because I probably could have told him over Facebook, but I felt that it was something that needed to be said in person. But I heard God telling me in my heart that saying this in person was better and that He was glad that I listened to Him. I felt so completely comforted and at peace. Later that evening when I went over to this friend's house to watch a movie, he never once mentioned the message I delivered to him earlier. I don't know what's going on in his head. I just pray that God works in his heart and that he opens up to His amazing love.
And another example of God's ability to leave me speechless:
Last night, I was driving to get gas before meeting up with some friends to study at a bookstore. For the first time, I heard on the radio Steven Curtis Chapman's story behind his song "Heaven is the Face," how his son accidentally ran over and killed his daughter with the car. It shook me, especially thinking about how awful the son must feel about the accident and how the parents feel about the whole situation. And then KLOVE played the song. I heard it in a completely different light as I pulled into the Sam's Club parking lot, from the perspective of a father who has lost his daughter in this accident. I started crying a little bit when he sung "Heaven is a sweet maple syrup kiss/And a thousand other little things I miss with her gone," and eventually I pulled into a parking stall because I couldn't concentrate on driving to the station a short distance away. I just wept, without having a pure reason behind my tears, just listening to the emotion of a father who loved his daughter so much and was now singing about her after her death.
But today, I heard the same song on my drive home from school, and God reached out and touched my heart in a completely different way. I felt like God was singing through Steven Curtis Chapman's lyrics to me: "Heaven is the face of a little girl/With dark brown eyes that disappear when she smiles/Heaven is the place where she calls my name/Says 'Daddy please come play with me for awhile...'/Heaven is the sound of her breathing deep/Lying on my chest, falling fast asleep while I sing/And Heaven is the weight of her in my arms/Being there to keep her safe from harm while she dreams." I felt so much like God's little girl that I was left at the stoplight between Rt. 31 and Crystal Lake Ave. with tears in my eyes and a smile on my face.
I'm His messenger, His daughter, His beloved. And I'm left speechless every time He embraces me and kisses me with sweet words of comfort and of grace and of hope and of love.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Passion
Last night, I watched The Passion of the Christ. If you have not seen it, let me first say that it is rated R with good reason: it is filled with violence because of all the persecution that Jesus suffered. There's no way to avoid it and still tell the story of Jesus's sacrifice to the extent that it should be told. If you have seen it, then you know what I am talking about.
Long story short, I cried. Hard. And for a long period of time, too. I was mostly in shock the whole movie until he was up on the cross and the criminals started talking to him, especially when Jesus told the nicer criminal that "today you will be with me in paradise." Tears streamed down my face as he suffered on the cross and as he gave up his spirit and as he was stabbed to make sure he was dead and as Mary held him broken in her arms. I cried to see him whole and new at the end of the movie. I went up into my room and cried for forty minutes after the movie was over, sobbing about how awfully they treated my Savior and how they persecuted my Jesus. I am so in love with him and it hurts me to see how much he was hurt, even though I know and he knew that he had to suffer and die in order to save us all from our sins. It felt like my heart was ripped open, to see my Savior lying beaten and broken in his mother's arms.
Before I watched the movie, I knew Jesus suffered to save us. I knew he went through a lot of pain. I even cried for that reason during Sandblast. But this was different. This was indescribable and unbelievable. It has changed the way I percieve Jesus's death. It's more real to me now.
This brings me to the word "passion." Dictionary.com describes it a couple of ways:
Long story short, I cried. Hard. And for a long period of time, too. I was mostly in shock the whole movie until he was up on the cross and the criminals started talking to him, especially when Jesus told the nicer criminal that "today you will be with me in paradise." Tears streamed down my face as he suffered on the cross and as he gave up his spirit and as he was stabbed to make sure he was dead and as Mary held him broken in her arms. I cried to see him whole and new at the end of the movie. I went up into my room and cried for forty minutes after the movie was over, sobbing about how awfully they treated my Savior and how they persecuted my Jesus. I am so in love with him and it hurts me to see how much he was hurt, even though I know and he knew that he had to suffer and die in order to save us all from our sins. It felt like my heart was ripped open, to see my Savior lying beaten and broken in his mother's arms.
Before I watched the movie, I knew Jesus suffered to save us. I knew he went through a lot of pain. I even cried for that reason during Sandblast. But this was different. This was indescribable and unbelievable. It has changed the way I percieve Jesus's death. It's more real to me now.
This brings me to the word "passion." Dictionary.com describes it a couple of ways:
- The sufferings of Jesus in the period following the Last Supper and including the Crucifixion, as related in the New Testament.
- Ardent love
- Boundless enthusiasm
- An overwhelming emotion
We call Jesus's sufferings the Passion. In this Passion, Jesus had passion for us. He so ardently loved us that he was willing to give up his life to persecution and crucifixion. He was passionate for us, passionate that we would be able to spend eternity in Heaven, passionate that we would be given the chance to live.
Are we going through our lives with passion, like Jesus? Are we willing to stake everything for our faith in him? Or are we just going through the motions?
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