Sunday Letters

Dear M&D, if you could organize my room for me that would be great. You might as well unpack my car while you are at it. Dear Kid, please stop showing off with your wakeboard skills. You make me jealous. Dear Sam, you are growing up too fast. Make sure you take time to enjoy life and not get caught up in the drama. Dear Best Friend, your week off from school is over so please enjoy getting lost in the world of geography. You are going to be wonderful! Dear Tennessee, it has been 15 months since I last saw you. I miss you and am completely blown away by how cute Charlotte is. Dear Rooms, I see you and you see me even when we don't see each other (lets see if you can get inside my head on this one). Dear Pretty Pretty Wakeboard, please be well behaved tomorrow so I can fly without falling. Dear Gravitron, you and a headache may be the worst combination ever invented. The jury is still out on that one. Dear Freshwater, I miss you a lot, even after just one Sunday.

Peace.

On Life and Death

Yesterday I was out riding the bike trail not too far from our artsy apartment. The trailhead is here in this college town and then runs for 34 miles into the closest biggest town. The trail runs over creeks, through fields, and immersed in the woods. It is quiet and calm, music created by running water, rustling leaves, and the occasional mooing of a cow. It is a section of simplicity in my overstimulated world.

There is the section, between a cemetery and cattle crossing that previously consisted of rocks, sand, and weeds but has recently been paved. However, I think the pavers overlooked one very important piece of information... they paved in the spring. Spring is when life that has been stamped away or casted into hibernation resumes. Everything comes alive. While that particular section of the trail was relatively free of noticeable vegetation at the time, there was still growth happening right below the surface. One day, the pavers came out in their yellow trucks and attempted to trump death with a concoction laid think over a dirt path. Their attempts were thwarted.

A few days after the asphalt was laid, I began to notice cracks and bulges, just a few but noticeable nonetheless. Each time I rode these cracks began to create little mounds, fighting against a formidable foe. Yesterday, as I rode past I noticed that where those little mounds had been there were now several inches of plant life. What was meant to stop life, what was seemingly stronger, soon erupted from the pressure of life.

I cannot help but think that death does not conquer life. Perhaps physically it is true, for we all will die a physical death but God is good and there is more to the story. Jesus, in his human body died. He died and he was buried and he was left in a tomb while people mourned. But death did not win the battle. The story wasn't over. He rose again.

Life is crazy and busy and currently out of control. Right now control, or desire for control, has been my asphalt, my own hinderance. Far too often I have not fought but instead excepted defeat, excepted death in a way. But Satan does not win. Shane and Shane said it well "... he's forgotten the refrain, Jesus saves."

Sometimes I read stories or remember the power the Christ had, to bring life, to cast away death, to defeat what was thought unconquerable. I read these things yet I so easily forget that I have the very power of Christ within me. I do not need to allow asphalt into my life, the pave over and attempt to cover up the signs of life and love. I must choose to walk in the Spirit rather than the flesh, to choose life over death, and victory over defeat.

And sometimes (or a lot of times) I forget. So, thats why it is here, not so much for you, but for me; so that I will remember.

Peace.

The Beauty in the Middle

From a conversation we had last night:

I have a love for sunsets and sunrises, though I see the former much more than the latter. The point it, I love to watch the sunset because it constantly changes and it is never the same. Sometimes it is bursting with red and oranges, other times it is muted and obscured by the sun. The sunsets and the sunrises mark the transitions, it the turning of day to night and night to day. It is easy to miss though, as life gets busy and times slips away. One minute I can look out my window and see blue skies with the sun high in the sky. Minutes later, or so it seems, the street lights are on and the sky in dark, not just dim, but dark- middle of the night dark.

And if we miss what happens in between, we miss a lot of the beauty.

Its the same way with life... you can see the beginning and the end but you can't check out for the middle. Sometimes I wish I could check out, not have to deal with the details and the messes that are in the middle because sometimes the middle is not always pretty. Sometimes I wish I didn't struggle or doubt, feel insecure or unvalued. Sometimes I wish the tears never happened or emotions weren't all over the board. But if those wishes were to come true, I would miss a lot of the lessons, a lot of the community, and a lot of the beauty that has come from the mess.

So often it is easy to go from day to night, from light to dark, without taking the time to see the beauty in the middle, in the details. Don't forget the sunset. Take the time to see the middle, to see the details, to see the beauty even in the pain or the struggles.

Peace.

In Which I Explain "and a parachute"

If you were to take a look at my blog address/url/whatever it is called you would notice that, when properly spaced, it reads "18 inches and a parachute." So, what does that mean? Well, I will tell you... at least the second part.

Today, in my Wednesday meeting, we were looking at Ephesians chapter 3. (By the way, we have been studying Ephesians at church too... apparently it is the season for studying Ephesians and I am very okay with that.) So, there is tons of truth and loads of cool thought that can be drawn from this chapter but I am just going to focus on a few verses.

Ephesians 3:17b-19 And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge- that you may be filled with the measure of all the fullness of God.

Paul is calling the Ephesians (and us) to grasp how great the love Christ has for us. But that's the thing, because we are humans, we cannot fully grasp or understand this love. We can't wrap our minds around it. There are no limits to it. It is wide and long, high and deep, and there is nothing we can do to make Him love us less. There is nothing I can do that will make Christ love me less. Sometimes I forget that because it goes completely against my human nature and extent to which my mind understands.

I can sit here and talk about how that love exists. I can say that there is nothing I can do to make Christ love me more or less. I can tell people that I have this one in the bag. I can give all the right answers. Yet, all of that is talk... not that it isn't true, but it is just talk until I put faith behind it.

For years my dad, older sister, and I have talked about going skydiving. On random days text messages and e-mails are sent trying to decide where we want to go skydiving, when our schedules will put the three of us in the same place long enough to actually make this happen, and how our desire to jump out of an airplane keeps getting greater and greater. We talk a lot. I think about it a lot. I could do research on parachutes, watch YouTube videos on parachutes, and listen to instructors tell me exactly how it will work. I can see demonstrations and read books.... I can do a lot of things. But, there is going to come a time when I will have to have faith that when I jump out of that airplane and fall thousands of feet that parachute is going to deploy when I pull the cord.

At some point I am going to have to stop talking and have faith that the parachute will do its job and get me back to land safely.

Love, God's love, is exactly the same. I can talk and read, study and think all I want but eventually I just have to have faith in something I don't understand, something I cannot fully grasp. So when I jump, I jump in faith knowing there is a love beyond my control and my understanding.

Love is a parachute.

Peace.