I like that God designed life to be one big story. A story that is neither comedic nor dramatic, but anything and everything in between.
Sometimes I like to bask in the simple enjoyment of the non-drama, the kind of story that really just entertains you, without having to think or act accordingly. Kind of like a sitcom, these moments flash in an instant, leaving a pleasantly warm-fuzzy-bottom of the mug of hot chocolate-essence in your belly.
But then there are those mini drama series. Whether like Heroes, CSI (all of them), even those reality shows, these dramas tend to mark and mar our life. But without them the story would lack its much needed arch, instead becoming a flattened line on the heart monitor in Grey's Anatomy.
Now this is not discounting the comedic sitcoms. Often times I don't think we get enough of them. That sometimes even the minor dramatic moments found in them become something more important and time consuming then they are ever intended by the script writers to be. Most times these little gems are what life needs to get us from and through the dramatic season finale to a new season pilot.
And its this back and forth ping pong battle in life that makes it that much more beautiful. While we hold onto the drama because its the nitty gritty of life that gets the adrenaline pumping with 24 hours to live; the release into blissful escapedom provides much needed rest and renewal.
The great thing about all this is that no matter if we're in the middle of season 4 or at the beginning of season 1 episode 4, we can all catch up with what we've missed. Whether its through talking with close friends, finding happiness in a new relationship, lifting ourselves out of the wreckage, or finally understanding the twists and turns of the plot...we all catch up eventually.
So I hope you won't give up living because there's no way that Jack Baur can once again escape, or because House can't figure out which disease it is, or because you don't want Barney and Robin to get together.
Because we all know that Jack Baur will escape and do it bigger and better, that House will cure his patient just before he dies, and maybe Barney and Robin won't stay together but at least we'll get closer to finding out who 'the mother' is...and maybe that's the part that really matters.
=)
Monday, October 19, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Finals Therapy
Is it weird that after 4 years and countless essays...
I still enjoy it?
Music, writing, and myself, it's my type of therapy.
I still enjoy it?
Music, writing, and myself, it's my type of therapy.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Overcharged and Owned
Hi My name is Rachel and I've been owned by God.....again.
I've never really considered myself a perfectionist (okay maybe sometimes).
Or a person who gets stressed out a lot.
Or someone who takes on too many hats at one time.
I've always felt like I know when to be still.
Known when to chill out, and calm down.
And if you know me, you know that I'm one of the least neurotic/panicky people.
When it comes to life, I tend to cruise on by.
But today God owned me, through my circumstances and the advice of my mom. This week is supposed to be a break from work, and yet I've been finding myself with a busier schedule than the entire semester. I thought I could handle it, because it didn't seem like a lot of work, most of it I wanted to do, and therefore my work load wouldn't be that heavy (or so I thought.)
But today, amidst the busiest day of the week, everything came to a halt...I lost my keys. Actually I retract that statement because I know where they are, they're just unattainable at this time. And because I couldn't find my keys, I was forced to not do some of things I was supposed to do. Instead I found myself waiting for over an hour, sitting in the hallway, in front of my door, eating honey nut cheerios with one of my best friends. It was the most rest I'd had all week.
It's funny that just the other day I was talking to my friend about the Sabbath, and how it's a commandment we so often forget or dismiss. And yet God made it the 4th commandment, above honoring your parents, or not murdering or lying. So it obviously must be important.
But in a world that tells us "time is money" we forget to rest. We forget to recharge our own batteries, although that never seems to happen with our Ipods or Blackberries. We often go without thinking too much about it, running from meeting to class, from lunch to coffee, from e-mail to phone call.
And we simply forget to be still.
God knows that too often we do this to ourselves. He knows how easy it is to get burnt out, frustrated, or stressed out. He didn't make our bodies to be machines that run on little sleep and caffeine pills. Instead he made our bodies need 8 hours of sleep, need to sit down once in a while, and need to just breathe.
And when we're too busy trying to get everything done, sometimes he pulls the switch just to make sure that we're taken care of. He pulls the plug right before we have the chance to explode, and lets the computer cool down, so it doesn't get overworked.
And sometimes he just hides the keys.
I've never really considered myself a perfectionist (okay maybe sometimes).
Or a person who gets stressed out a lot.
Or someone who takes on too many hats at one time.
I've always felt like I know when to be still.
Known when to chill out, and calm down.
And if you know me, you know that I'm one of the least neurotic/panicky people.
When it comes to life, I tend to cruise on by.
But today God owned me, through my circumstances and the advice of my mom. This week is supposed to be a break from work, and yet I've been finding myself with a busier schedule than the entire semester. I thought I could handle it, because it didn't seem like a lot of work, most of it I wanted to do, and therefore my work load wouldn't be that heavy (or so I thought.)
But today, amidst the busiest day of the week, everything came to a halt...I lost my keys. Actually I retract that statement because I know where they are, they're just unattainable at this time. And because I couldn't find my keys, I was forced to not do some of things I was supposed to do. Instead I found myself waiting for over an hour, sitting in the hallway, in front of my door, eating honey nut cheerios with one of my best friends. It was the most rest I'd had all week.
It's funny that just the other day I was talking to my friend about the Sabbath, and how it's a commandment we so often forget or dismiss. And yet God made it the 4th commandment, above honoring your parents, or not murdering or lying. So it obviously must be important.
But in a world that tells us "time is money" we forget to rest. We forget to recharge our own batteries, although that never seems to happen with our Ipods or Blackberries. We often go without thinking too much about it, running from meeting to class, from lunch to coffee, from e-mail to phone call.
And we simply forget to be still.
God knows that too often we do this to ourselves. He knows how easy it is to get burnt out, frustrated, or stressed out. He didn't make our bodies to be machines that run on little sleep and caffeine pills. Instead he made our bodies need 8 hours of sleep, need to sit down once in a while, and need to just breathe.
And when we're too busy trying to get everything done, sometimes he pulls the switch just to make sure that we're taken care of. He pulls the plug right before we have the chance to explode, and lets the computer cool down, so it doesn't get overworked.
And sometimes he just hides the keys.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Dreams or Destiny
It's hard to figure out whether your dreams are your destiny. Or if your heart longs for things because of the right reasons. Or if your heart is aligned with God's heart, or if God's telling you yes, though you think its a no, or vice versa.
It's never an easy task to move on from a comfortable state of living. Whether a new school, a new relationship, a new job or even a new type of food, it seems that there are always too many questions and too little answers.
Too often I find myself living in a fluffy cloud of my dreams, swirling in my own head dreaming of 'what I could do', 'what I want to do', 'what I should do', and 'what I will do.' It's a progression from my imagination to reality, often influenced by my peers and family. What I 'could' and 'want' to do are encouraged by my friends, but my family tells me what I 'should' and 'will' do, because inevitably I take the road well traveled, the most secure, all the while hoping that some drastic event will happen that will change the course I'm set on.
The question is whether imagination or reality is really God's plan.
This past Sunday Pastor Jim (I love the fact that he calls the congregation "beloved") talked about Paul and how God changed his trip to Rome, to a trip to an island called Malta. There was no forewarning, no direct signs of where God wanted Paul, except for a massive storm that blew them off course, or rather on course with God. After being shipwrecked on an island God uses Paul to preach the Gospel, heal the villagers, bond convicts and Roman guards, and fulfill a purpose he never was aware of. And then God evens sends them on their merry way with all the supplies necessarily to make it to Rome.
I'd like to know if my reality is in Rome, or my dreams are in Malta, but the truth is it could be both. Or it could be neither. And even though there are no clear signs, it doesn't mean that the path is not set out before me. It is, I just can't tell at the moment.
For Paul it wasn't about knowing, it was simply about floating. Floating to whatever remote island God took him to. But when he got there he took every opportunity, wasted nothing, and loved on everything.
Perhaps its not dreams or destiny, but simply living. And living actively and purposefully in every situation.
It's never an easy task to move on from a comfortable state of living. Whether a new school, a new relationship, a new job or even a new type of food, it seems that there are always too many questions and too little answers.
Too often I find myself living in a fluffy cloud of my dreams, swirling in my own head dreaming of 'what I could do', 'what I want to do', 'what I should do', and 'what I will do.' It's a progression from my imagination to reality, often influenced by my peers and family. What I 'could' and 'want' to do are encouraged by my friends, but my family tells me what I 'should' and 'will' do, because inevitably I take the road well traveled, the most secure, all the while hoping that some drastic event will happen that will change the course I'm set on.
The question is whether imagination or reality is really God's plan.
This past Sunday Pastor Jim (I love the fact that he calls the congregation "beloved") talked about Paul and how God changed his trip to Rome, to a trip to an island called Malta. There was no forewarning, no direct signs of where God wanted Paul, except for a massive storm that blew them off course, or rather on course with God. After being shipwrecked on an island God uses Paul to preach the Gospel, heal the villagers, bond convicts and Roman guards, and fulfill a purpose he never was aware of. And then God evens sends them on their merry way with all the supplies necessarily to make it to Rome.
I'd like to know if my reality is in Rome, or my dreams are in Malta, but the truth is it could be both. Or it could be neither. And even though there are no clear signs, it doesn't mean that the path is not set out before me. It is, I just can't tell at the moment.
For Paul it wasn't about knowing, it was simply about floating. Floating to whatever remote island God took him to. But when he got there he took every opportunity, wasted nothing, and loved on everything.
Perhaps its not dreams or destiny, but simply living. And living actively and purposefully in every situation.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
The Last, Last Semester
After writing about how I KNEW this last year would be hard, it amazes me how much I seem to underestimate God, and what he meant by that.
First semester flew by and I learned a lot about myself and about my heart. My emotions might have got the best of me, but it was good. Like learning to cry when things get tough, or even think and deal with issues that force you to delve into your heart and find out just how broken a place it really is. And it was through a multitude of things, mainly my singleness that I was broken down and rebuilt. 6 of my friends got together in a single semester, a record that deserves recognition in my opinion.
Winter break happened and proved to be just the break I needed to end that chapter of a last, first semester. Engaging back into my friendships that I hadn't been in for a semester, and just soaking in probably my last real break at home. Being at home was like a release. Just being able to talk and share so openly with people who know you so well. Refreshing. God even surprised me with some new breakthroughs in old relationships, and showed me how much distance does not really matter when people are a part of your heart.
And fast-forward to this semester. Already just a couple months to go and I hit it big time in the real world. Or so I hope. After basking in the sunshine of being home I think I was unprepared for returning to the storm on the other coast. I was caught unaware of the problems I had left there, and the work needed to be done. Many projects were left unfinished or even untouched, and even now I wish I could say that I'm on the ball and rolling with the punches...but I'm not.
It's been a struggle in itself to keep afloat. I know I'm in a life raft, but I'm left without a paddle and so the most I can do is go where the wind blows. I've thought about using my hands and feet to get to shore, but I only think about it. I'm scared of taking that first step for fear of getting wet, and cold, and finding that I land on the wrong island. I wish I could have a treasure map that leads me to the buried treasure, but I feel like I'm left with a broken compass and only half of a treasure map. The other half floats somewhere in the unknown seas, where I lost it somewhere last semester.
As much as I'm ready to jump, I'm not proactive enough to do so. I can't seem to get my brain to send the signals to my feet and jump. Instead the signals just fumble around in my head causing more commotion and confusion, which does not help when you need to think clearly to swim.
And so I sit in the raft. Humming a tune unknown by everyone, though since it doesn't really reach anyone it doesn't even matter. And I keep hoping a boat will find me, rescue me and take me ashore. But I know that it won't come, and that I have to make it ashore myself.
I just need to try.
First semester flew by and I learned a lot about myself and about my heart. My emotions might have got the best of me, but it was good. Like learning to cry when things get tough, or even think and deal with issues that force you to delve into your heart and find out just how broken a place it really is. And it was through a multitude of things, mainly my singleness that I was broken down and rebuilt. 6 of my friends got together in a single semester, a record that deserves recognition in my opinion.
Winter break happened and proved to be just the break I needed to end that chapter of a last, first semester. Engaging back into my friendships that I hadn't been in for a semester, and just soaking in probably my last real break at home. Being at home was like a release. Just being able to talk and share so openly with people who know you so well. Refreshing. God even surprised me with some new breakthroughs in old relationships, and showed me how much distance does not really matter when people are a part of your heart.
And fast-forward to this semester. Already just a couple months to go and I hit it big time in the real world. Or so I hope. After basking in the sunshine of being home I think I was unprepared for returning to the storm on the other coast. I was caught unaware of the problems I had left there, and the work needed to be done. Many projects were left unfinished or even untouched, and even now I wish I could say that I'm on the ball and rolling with the punches...but I'm not.
It's been a struggle in itself to keep afloat. I know I'm in a life raft, but I'm left without a paddle and so the most I can do is go where the wind blows. I've thought about using my hands and feet to get to shore, but I only think about it. I'm scared of taking that first step for fear of getting wet, and cold, and finding that I land on the wrong island. I wish I could have a treasure map that leads me to the buried treasure, but I feel like I'm left with a broken compass and only half of a treasure map. The other half floats somewhere in the unknown seas, where I lost it somewhere last semester.
As much as I'm ready to jump, I'm not proactive enough to do so. I can't seem to get my brain to send the signals to my feet and jump. Instead the signals just fumble around in my head causing more commotion and confusion, which does not help when you need to think clearly to swim.
And so I sit in the raft. Humming a tune unknown by everyone, though since it doesn't really reach anyone it doesn't even matter. And I keep hoping a boat will find me, rescue me and take me ashore. But I know that it won't come, and that I have to make it ashore myself.
I just need to try.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Remembering How to Cry
I was helping out today in the nursery at church, playing with Abby, one of the cutest little girls. She's a little more than a year old, and although she's quite young, my mom has been telling me that she's one of the more independent babies. While most of the babies in the nursery tend to cry and need constant attention, Abby is fine on her own, playing by herself.
Until till today that is.
I was sitting there holding her (as I had been for the past nearly 20 minutes) today, when suddenly out of nowhere she starts crying. At first we thought it was because she needed to changer her diaper, or she was hungry or something. However the real reason was quite simple; she was tired and wanted her mom.
After holding her for a while and trying to calm her down, she eventually went to sleep, which is where she stayed until the end of the service.
Abby reminded me of something very important today. She reminded me that I need to remember how to cry. We all do. It's strange that we start out as needy children, crying about every little thing, and knowing that our parents will respond to us. Yet somehow as we grow older it becomes more difficult for us to cry, and when we do, you know your in for a big flood. We start to feel as though crying is something we aren't supposed to do. That we've learned enough about grief and pain that we should be experts at how to react and recover. But it's such a lie to ourselves.
In Matthew, Jesus is approached by his disciples, who ask the question of who will enter the kingdom of God.
"At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. " - Matthew 18:1-4
Jesus tells them to be like children, like Abby, in order to do so. He doesn't tell us to be the most independent, the strongest emotionally or physically. He doesn't tell us to have the most money, or be the smartest. Instead he tells us to be vulnerable, needy, physically weak, lacking money or intelligence.
As I was trying to calm Abby down today, it struck me that the sound of her cry wasn't just a noise. There was passion, emotion, complete trust, and vulnerability in her cry. She was crying out for her mother, the one person she knew who would never leave her. And when her mom didn't come, she kept crying and crying and crying. She had no doubt that eventually her cries would be heard, she had completely faith that her mom would come.
And it was that sound of her cry that shook me and put tears in my eyes. To be able to cry out to God, my Father who will never leave me. To not be afraid to let myself wail, to scream out my brokenness to someone who understands better than anyone else. And to know that my cries will be heard and that someone will come to my aid.
I was reminded today that its more than okay to cry. In fact God welcomes it, because he knows that when we cry it means we have nowhere to turn but him. And its funny how it took a child, who doesn't even know the impact of her tears, to teach me such a humbling lesson.
Until till today that is.
I was sitting there holding her (as I had been for the past nearly 20 minutes) today, when suddenly out of nowhere she starts crying. At first we thought it was because she needed to changer her diaper, or she was hungry or something. However the real reason was quite simple; she was tired and wanted her mom.
After holding her for a while and trying to calm her down, she eventually went to sleep, which is where she stayed until the end of the service.
Abby reminded me of something very important today. She reminded me that I need to remember how to cry. We all do. It's strange that we start out as needy children, crying about every little thing, and knowing that our parents will respond to us. Yet somehow as we grow older it becomes more difficult for us to cry, and when we do, you know your in for a big flood. We start to feel as though crying is something we aren't supposed to do. That we've learned enough about grief and pain that we should be experts at how to react and recover. But it's such a lie to ourselves.
In Matthew, Jesus is approached by his disciples, who ask the question of who will enter the kingdom of God.
"At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. " - Matthew 18:1-4
Jesus tells them to be like children, like Abby, in order to do so. He doesn't tell us to be the most independent, the strongest emotionally or physically. He doesn't tell us to have the most money, or be the smartest. Instead he tells us to be vulnerable, needy, physically weak, lacking money or intelligence.
As I was trying to calm Abby down today, it struck me that the sound of her cry wasn't just a noise. There was passion, emotion, complete trust, and vulnerability in her cry. She was crying out for her mother, the one person she knew who would never leave her. And when her mom didn't come, she kept crying and crying and crying. She had no doubt that eventually her cries would be heard, she had completely faith that her mom would come.
And it was that sound of her cry that shook me and put tears in my eyes. To be able to cry out to God, my Father who will never leave me. To not be afraid to let myself wail, to scream out my brokenness to someone who understands better than anyone else. And to know that my cries will be heard and that someone will come to my aid.
I was reminded today that its more than okay to cry. In fact God welcomes it, because he knows that when we cry it means we have nowhere to turn but him. And its funny how it took a child, who doesn't even know the impact of her tears, to teach me such a humbling lesson.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Free Refills
You ever have those moments? The ones where one moment you feel absolutely selfish, down, disconnected from God and people, unsure, confused, and conflicted all at the same time?
And then God does something amazing, it can be big or little, and it warms your heart. It fills you up to the brim again, and whatever was lacking before is no longer lacking.
It happened tonight. =)
I feel like I just drank a cup of hot cocoa, hot apple cider, hot milk tea, whatever is your winter beverage of choice. You start out cold and distant, and slowly the liquid pours into your body, warms you to your toes, and the frost begins to melt.
Mmmmm...........thank God.
Coming home for break always brings about time for pondering, interacting, and remembering. Pondering the point of your life you currently find yourself in, as well as dreaming of the future. Interacting with the people you haven't seen for a while. Remembering past times, and looking at the progression of how you've grown.
Tonight I was encouraged by my heart to heart sisters, and how no matter how far we move away, somehow the bond between us never dies. I never realized how in sync we were to the sound of each others hearts until tonight. And I never valued it as much until tonight.
I was encouraged by my brothers, one spiritual, one real, and their passion to take up the cross. Their desire to be a man after God's own heart, to be strong and courageous, taking up their sword to fight on the side of the Almighty.
As we sat in the car, praying together at midnight, I felt the warmth return to my toes. The hot cocoa had done its trick, and my previously empty soul was renewed by the words of two humble men in a parked car on a rundown driveway.
Thank you God for always providing free refills when needed.
And then God does something amazing, it can be big or little, and it warms your heart. It fills you up to the brim again, and whatever was lacking before is no longer lacking.
It happened tonight. =)
I feel like I just drank a cup of hot cocoa, hot apple cider, hot milk tea, whatever is your winter beverage of choice. You start out cold and distant, and slowly the liquid pours into your body, warms you to your toes, and the frost begins to melt.
Mmmmm...........thank God.
Coming home for break always brings about time for pondering, interacting, and remembering. Pondering the point of your life you currently find yourself in, as well as dreaming of the future. Interacting with the people you haven't seen for a while. Remembering past times, and looking at the progression of how you've grown.
Tonight I was encouraged by my heart to heart sisters, and how no matter how far we move away, somehow the bond between us never dies. I never realized how in sync we were to the sound of each others hearts until tonight. And I never valued it as much until tonight.
I was encouraged by my brothers, one spiritual, one real, and their passion to take up the cross. Their desire to be a man after God's own heart, to be strong and courageous, taking up their sword to fight on the side of the Almighty.
As we sat in the car, praying together at midnight, I felt the warmth return to my toes. The hot cocoa had done its trick, and my previously empty soul was renewed by the words of two humble men in a parked car on a rundown driveway.
Thank you God for always providing free refills when needed.
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