Refresh me.

My heart is heavy, weighing down on my thoughts. I can't focus and I simply want to get away by myself for a while.

This was brought upon by my resent, cheesy "ocean side revelation". Yes, here it comes, life lessons from the beach. Bear with me though.

I went to the beach to go running this morning. Cool, breezy, salty mist hit my face. It was sunny and absolutely beautiful. As I looked around, I saw that the scene looked different than the night before. The sand dunes had slightly readjusted themselves during the night, and the midnight tide washed up a fresh coating of whole shells for all the old lady's to put in their wal-mart bags. The birds attacked the beaches in a frenzy, for food I suppose. The air was clean and had an light, emptying quality. New tide, new temperatures, new shapes. My conclusion came in a exausted walk back up the beach. Morning brings new.

Yes, I know. Duh, right? But I envy the morning. I envy her ability to confidently take each new day as if it were her first. Starting over, waves endlessly pounding, never giving up no matter the setbacks of the previous day. Sun and sky, radiant in displaying their proud colors, announcing the coming of new. Every element seems to shout, "Wake up, it's a beautiful day."

Oh, to be unfraid, ready, bold. I envy the morning.

To be the fly on the wall.

At times I fall into a mode where I see things very introspectively. It's like I'm dreaming, and everything I think is translated onto a page in my journal. Every action, every sight, every sound, every word I take in effects me, and all I want to do is sit and listen. I evaluate and contemplate each breath. Oh it is wonderfully bliss. I don't want to speak or move, just watch and listen. Everything impresses me, shakes me, and teaches me something new. Things are poetic and romantic all of the sudden. With glasses of new found clarity, I begin to rethink every day occurrences as if they were rare gifts. Time seems to stand still. I long to write down each moment to remember it. Tonight has been one of those nights. Will you talk to me, tell me what your going through, tell me what your thinking? I want to learn.

(Now to anyone (if anyone) who actually reads what I write, I'm sure it sounds here that I'm either high or completely delusional. But I'm not, and it's hard to describe what goes on in my head sometimes. I'm probably just having a caffeine drop or something....but I'll just tell you it is indescribably wonderful.)

He loves me. He loves me not.

There was a mom named Janette, married, with four kids, living in a self destructing household. The house was characterized by screaming, arguing, fights, hurting and rebelling kids, alcoholism, and people desperate for attention. Finally after their oldest son had been hospitalized for drug overdose, the family admitted themselves into counseling. As the first session became more emotional and revealing that anyone expected, the counselor realized the root of many of the problems that seemed to be bursting out every hurting heart. Janette, due to her own childhood mess, could never bring herself to say the three words to her family that drastically altered the dynamics of the home..."I love you."

In contrast to Janette, Julianne was a popular high school student, bubbly and cheerful, and absolutely adored being around people. She flitted around her world hugging, kissing, and flattering. "Oh my gosh, babe I totally love you!" Sweety, your the best I love you!"But too much of the time her mouth would say one thing, but she thought the complete opposite. No matter how she really felt. she always gave off a positive vibe, sincerity aside. She would compliment when she secretly hated it, and hug when she secretly wanted to scream. She ended every text she wrote with, "Luvs U!" But did she have any comprehension of what those three words meant?

I believe the word love is possibly one of the most powerful words in existence. Why? Because it is a expression of the deep, intentional process in which we adore people as reflection of Christ- love personified. I believe God created us with this emotion in order to more fully understand the reason and intention behind His existence.

But I throw around that word as if it were an everyday formality. We say, "I love tacos!" then we say, " I love my husband"? They just don't compare, and it takes away the sanctity of the word. One day we decide to love, the next we decide to hate. This is not love! This is an emotionally based, cowardly action that has no comprehension of love. Do you and I understand that love was that compelling emotion and bond that brought Christ to come in our place? Do we understand that love is much more than hearts and kisses and romanticism?

Love is real

Love is moving

Love is action

We must rise out of the traps of complacency and begin to absorb and discover and experience Love-as in Christ-abandoning our feeble attempts to use this word in an attempt of flattery. We must return to our elementary posts and somehow try to see the most basic, pure form of love in order to begin again.


2 Corinthians 5:14
For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all...

Can I at least say hello?

Is December 25Th supposed to be significant to me? Oh my goodness I almost forgot about Christmas! Thanks to finals and homecoming and company and cleaning and blah and blah and blah....


I miss Christmas the way it was when I was little! The month of December would creep slower than syrup and each day I anxiously opened one more door on our countdown boxes. So much anticipation and talking hours on the phone to my friends about what I wanted to get. Running to meet Santa around the block as he roared up in the bright red firetruck. The night before I would lie awake for hours, staring at the clock until the moment came where I could finally wake my sister. We would run upstairs and dive into the moments of eggnog and warm fires, stockings and surprises. The presents seemed to engulf my entire living room, and I savored every moment of that day. I miss that.

These past few years have been different. The month of December seems to pass double-time, and I dread going out to shop and wrap. Christmas days sneaks up, then flies by not even giving me a chance to say hello, how are you? I usually just want to sleep longer, and I can predict everything I'm opening. It's just not the same.

I feel really selfish trying to think of gifts I want when I don't need anything. Why should my parents waste the money? It's all very frustrating to me this year. But I get those moments of christmas with traditions that have taken the place of my imaginative wonderlands. Such as shopping in down town st. Charles, cuddling by the fire, and having movie nights with peppermint ice cream.

I suppose my point is sometimes, I just missing being a little kid.

I have a story to tell you.

This sumer I went Bolivia on a working missions trip in Guayadermaurin. While there, I met several wonderful people who lived out Chirst's call to loving other in the way of a servant. And when I say servants I don't mean serve on a sunday afternoon serve, but a leave-your-family-to-love-on-the-hurting sort of serving. It was incredible to be thousands of miles from home and see Christ in a culure so different than my own, and to experience His love through the translated words and simple gestures of kindness. No poetic phrases can describe how I felt loved by those people.

But while in the mornings we would work on building the river boat, the evenings different churches in the area would invite us for dinner and a church service. Although it may have seemed long and boring because I didn't know spanish, they treated us with so much honor and respect. One meal we sat in front of enough food to feed a hundred that they had spend a fortune on. The entire church sat around and watched us eat, while I'm sure very hungry themselves. Painfully humbling. The many pastors we met where so loving, and it was very obvious they desrired so much to see a change in their drug and alcohol saturated city. They were love in action.

The next part of the story breaks my heart. Within the past few months nasty political wars have broken out, leaving schools closed and families nervous for safety and restitution in Guay. I recieved an e-mail that one of the pastors that hosted us was shot and killed because of his efforts to restore peace and be love. He has four kids.

This not only is very real because I had met him, but it hits me in that he practised love, did what was right, knowing Christ was the provider and sustainer of his life.

We have it so easy, being comfortable in our christian bubbles and little CHS. He chose to do what was right. We compromise and lie to our friends just to avoid conflict or to ensure we don't loose friends. He was shot and killed because he knew people were dying because of corruption.

How often to we skip over the vitality of integrity and obeying what Christ says because it is uncomfortable to our comfortalble Christ-saturated lives?

Longing

I am terrified.

Scared stiff, of what? Of not becoming the person I want to be. What if all this time I have spent dreaming, studying, planning, hoping, seeking, and striving for things that are unattainable or unrealistic?

This lately has been haunting me, especially in the last few days. I am weak, and easily swayed by the opinions of others. Where is my spine? I wish for once I could be strong and make decisions for myself, be who Emily is, and not concerned with what other think. I despise that in other people, but my eyes have been opened to the reality that I am too often that girl. The girl that sacrifices her dreams and goal by buying into false words. Like a child who tentatively holds onto the side of the boat, missing the views of the ocean bottom, so am I, clinging onto my insecurities, missing the wonderment of life.

I long to be patient, willing to wait for what is good and right.

I long to be encouraging, taking my eyes off myself to speak to the hurting.

I long to be merciful, slow to judge other and accepting like Christ accepts.

I long to be driven, running forward to reach fulfillment in Christ.

I long to be confident, resting in the truth that I am loved.

I long to be loved, swept away and considered beautiful.

I long to be still, to hear and see the wonders in life I have been blinded to due to my pride.

Can I step out of my box and become that unshakable, daughter of the King?

Sweet rest in Him, oh just for a moment, please. I need rest.

The beauty of a Saturday.

I love saturdays, especailly ones like today.

I had breakfast with one amazing person, miss kelsey. I needed that more that she knew.

Then I came home, did some cleaning, took a nap, read a book, helped my daddy put up our Christmas lights (froze my butt off by the way), ate my moms wonderful chili, then cuddled with my doggie by the fire.

Days like today are what allow me to make it through school without kicking people in the shins : )

Profound? Yes.