Wednesday, October 17, 2012


Sitting in the comfort of my kitchen, I wait for the moment in which I will need to dash to the tornado hiding spot.  At any second, a storm could come crashing into our house on our hill and wipe away everything I own.  There are five windows lined side by side on the far left side of the kitchen.  I can hear the force of branches and whatever else collide with the stillness of the windows.  I stare at the closed blinds inside the window frames and create an image inside my head.  I see the windows falling in with the blinds being swept away by the 80 mph winds.  I think that maybe it would be smart to head to the tornado hiding spot a little earlier than we plan, though I continue to sit firm where I am...waiting for something to happen.

Sitting on the kitchen couch, I listen to the faded sound of the weather channel on the television combined with the screech of the tornado siren outside.  I hear the voices of my family discussing safety procedures while exclaiming short prayers for our protection in between my dad's strong voice making keen weather predictions.  All throughout the interior and exterior noises, I cannot escape the whirlwind of the rushing rain outside.  No matter how hard I try, my ears focus in on the pitter patter of each rain drop on the deck beyond the kitchen door.  There is a clink hitting the window every few minutes, and it makes me rethink my decision to keep planted both nervously and comfortably on the kitchen couch.  The power flickers a couple of times, yet there is still no urgent weather threat near us.  So, we wait.

As I write this, I am still waiting.  Considering that I am reliving the procedure of a previous tornado, I wait eagerly for the tornadoes to finish their course.  At the same time, the nervous side of me waits for the storm to come and clear out everything I have to be thankful for; however, Jesus keeps whispering something to my heart.  He keeps saying that He is my shield, and I am in the hands of the creator of the universe.  I am being held in the hands of the one who created these storms in the first place.  My God will not let me down. Even if a storm were to wipe away everything I know of, I would still have a reason to be grateful.  I still have grace, and I still have the ability to serve for Christ.

It's reassuring.  It really is.  I'm truly thankful that I hear God during these moments of anxiety.  Waiting is a part to God's plan for us.  We are meant to experience the desires of patience through every segment of our lives.  Waiting is a way for God to show us his faithfulness.  We just need to trust that his faithfulness is true.  I'm glad that I can sit on this couch, in the middle of life's storm, and still be calm.  In the midst of the storm's danger, I have peace.  Is this even possible?  Of course...but only with the one who holds my heart.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

It's Love

        I am ashamed at who I am for you in this world of wonder that is trying to give me an identity that doesn’t belong to me, yet I feel so blessed even through this confusion; therefore, I will strive to be a disciple who puts one foot after the other in great effort of making her father known in this life.  The faint lights that give the streets a glisten of perfection after a spring rain shower give me hope that heaven’s lights will shine with much more altitude for my soul.  These feet have been in an infinite number of places wearing a countless number of shoes, yet the identity of this depth is mutual through every unique step.

        I crave more of Him to be seen in me, as I see more of how His strength defines me.  Going from one side to the other, I ask myself if I believe in bridges.  I put one foot in front and step onto a bridge that seems to whisper to me with the cracks of each step.  It gives me an indescribable fear that pushes me to think farther than I want to.  All of the sudden, I imagine myself falling beneath this bridge with my heart still tethered to the rails.  I want to be a disciple, but it comes down to what I really can do for God.  If only I knew how to cross the bridge to get to the side of freedom; however, the one thing that my mind has yet to explain is that I am already free.
        The moonlight is a fierce reflection of the sharp, yet broken, whispers that my eyes send out to each detail of creation.  These broken whispers creep up my spine and sneak into my heart due to the glimpses of being unwanted.  I sometimes have to let go in order to find myself, for I know I am not defined by my flaws.  The bind of my hand intertwined with someone else’s gives me an unexplainable strength in my identity through Him.  Whether it is the na├»ve hand of my brother that has so much more to feel or the strong, courageous outline of my father’s solid fingers, I feel the love that is contained inside two of these different hands belonging to two different beings.  Trying to find a way, love seeks the unity of coming together in one God.  The only problem that lies within every idea is that we are weak to see that God has already made a way.  Always are we constantly trying to be something, to do something, to fight for something, yet we have already been set free, yet we fail to see it.

Jesus has already paid the fine that we did not have the ability to pay.