The Curious Words of a Saint

I've been reading Saint Augustine's Confessions and I can't help but post some of his words that are taking root in my heart this summer.  I don't know what you, my dear reader, think about God -- but may these words be sweet to your tongue, rich to your soul, and fire to your bones.  And may you consider Jesus, the God-man, as the greatest and most skillful lover of your soul.

"You, my God, are
supreme, utmost in goodness, mightiest and all-powerful, most merciful and most just.

You are the most hidden from us
and yet the most present among us.

The most beautiful
and yet the most strong.

Ever enduring
and yet we cannot comprehend you.

You are unchangeable
and yet you change all things.

You are never new, never old,
and yet all things have new life from you.

You are the unseen power that brings decline upon the proud.

You are ever active,
yet always at rest. 


You gather all things to yourself,
though you suffer no need.

You support, you fill, and you protect all things.
You create them, nourish them, and bring them to perfection.
You seek to make them your own,
though you lack for nothing.

You love your creatures,
but with a gentle love.


You treasure them,
but without apprehension.

You grieve for wrong,
but suffer no pain.

You can be angry,
and yet serene.

Your works are varied,
but your purpose is one and the same.

You welcome all who come to you,
though you never lost them.

You are never in need,
yet are glad to gain,
never covetous,
yet you exact a return for your gifts.

We give abundantly to you so that we may deserve a reward; yet which of us has anything that does not come from you?

You repay us what we deserve,
and yet you owe nothing to any.

You release us from our debts,
but you lose nothing thereby.

You are my God, my Life, my holy Delight, but is this enough to say of you?
Can any man say enough when he speaks of you?

Yet woe betide those who are silent about you!

For even those who are most gifted with speech cannot find words to describe you."


And he says this, "The thought of You (God) stirs him (every man and woman) so deeply that he cannot be content unless he praises You, because You made us for Yourself and our hearts find no peace until they rest in You."

I'm convinced my heart can only find its peace in God.  Without God, there is chaos, doubt, and clamor that rules my heart.  I want my heart to be at rest.  Where does your heart rest?  Where do you go to escape the clamor and noise of a restless heart?

Do It Again!

“Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.” 
[G.K. Chesterton].

Swimming 101

Learning to swim is a funny thing -- they make you wear those goofy, puffy things on your arms when you're first learning.  Then, the better you get, they take those things off and you're left to tread water on your own.  And you learn not simply to tread, but to swim laps with finesse and style.  But, no matter how good you become at swimming, if the water starts to rise above your head for far too long, you begin to freak out a little inside.  There's a little panic that says, "can I get out of this?" "what if my head never rises above this?" "I can't breathe...oh crap!"

It seems lately, I've had the same little panic inside.  Panic in the midst of deep (and rising) waters of ambiguity, of unclarity, of uncertainty, of fear & hesitancy, etc.  As the waters rise, my natural tendency is to freak out and jump out of the pool.  If the waters can cause damage, if there's potential for the waters to rise and hurt me, then I'm out.  I'll sit quite comfortably on the side in a patio chair, thank you very much.  (This white, blonde girl can tan like a champ out there, you know).

But, I'm fighting the urge to jump out of the pool.  Yes, the water can be dangerous.  But the same water can be fun and enjoyable and playful, too.  I want to play in the water -- I want to refuse getting out the pool.  I want to stay in the pool and I want to swim well.

The question for me isn't, "how do I get out of this pool to save myself?"  But rather, "how do I live well in the pool I find myself?"

Fears can not only paralyze me -- but they can prevent me.  Prevent me from experiencing goodness and richness.  I fear the unknown, so I don't move toward it -- but in the unknown may be some of the sweetest life I've experienced yet.  It typically is, actually.

May you be a person who swims well in the waters of ambiguity.  May I, too, be a woman who swims and plays and laughs in the rising waters of unsureness.  The Creator of the seas HAS to be good and wise.

...because this is hilarious

Thoughts on Waking Up

We wake up each morning to a world we did not make. How did it get here? How did we get here? We open our eyes and see that 'old bowling ball the sun' careen over the horizon. We wiggle our toes. A mockingbird takes off and improvises on themes set down by robins, vireos, and wrens, and we marvel at the intricacies.... There is so much here--around, above, below, inside, outside. Even with the help of poets and scientists we can account for very little of it. We notice this, then that.... Before long we are looking out through telescopes and down into microscopes, curious, fascinated by this endless proliferation of sheer Is-ness--color and shape and texture and sound.

After awhile we get used to it and quit noticing. We get narrowed down into something small and constricting. Somewhere along the way this exponential expansion of awareness, this wide-eyed looking around, this sheer untaught delight in what is here, reverses itself: the world contracts; we are reduced to a life of routine through which we sleepwalk. But not for long. Something always shows up to jar us awake.

-Eugene Peterson

Winter Break 2011

From Folly Beach, South Carolina

To Indianapolis, Indiana

To Denver, Colorado

Dumb and Dumber hotel...Awesome!

To Tempe, Arizona

where I got to see this studly guy.

A full, rich, and crazy Christmas break, indeed.
It's good to be back in Bowling Green.

Merry Christmas, loved ones!

This is War.

One of the most powerful Christmas songs I've ever heard (and the video is pretty moving itself).

The gunfire, the shots, the injustice, the battle, the war, the sadness, the shadows, the darkness -- they will all cease, they will take a knee, they will bow to the King.  The darkness will cease in light of the King.  He has come.  And He's coming again.  And He rides on the clouds of victory.  Redemption rings out from a manger in Bethlehem to all nations, to the ends of the earth, for all people.

"This is war like you ain't seen.  
This winter's long; it's cold and mean.
With hangdog hearts, we stood condemned,
but the tide turns now at Bethlehem.
  
This is war, and born tonight, the Word as flesh -- the Lord of Light.
The Son of God, the low-born King -- who demons fear, and of whom angels sing.


This is war on sin and death;
the dark will take its final breath.  
It shakes the earth, confounds all plans
 -- the mystery of God as man."