Six Years

I will look back on this and smile because it was life and I decided to live it.

-unknown

I came across this quote this morning and smiled. Today I celebrate six years in this crazy city.

No matter what happens in the future, I know that I will look on these last six years and smile, and probably go further than that and cry with joy, because I have lived here more than I have any other place.

A few things have stayed the same, most notably my driver’s license still claims Texas as does my car, but so many things have changed.

I’ve lived in five homes in six years, which sounds like a ton; but I lived in three different places within my first 9 months in the city, finally settling on Capitol Hill where I stayed in one house for almost four years. A year stint in my second home on the hill was ended due to the Lord’s call to homeownership. In just two months, I will have owned my house for a year. I’m not the nomad that I once was. Roots are a good thing and I am so thankful to have them.

While I remain on Capitol Hill, I’ve been incredibly blessed to move through the ranks – from an intern to a legislative director. And though it was with sadness that I left the Texas delegation, I have been warmly welcomed by the Midwest folks. I have learned a lot in these six years up here. Seen power given and taken away. I’ve written language that has gotten passed by the House of Representatives and hope to get something signed into law this year. I’m no longer naïve to a lot of the corruption, brokenness, cruelty, and just ugliness that as sinners we are prone to. I’m not sure if the political realm amplifies that, but I can no longer hide my head in the sand and think we are mostly good people. We are people in desperate need of a Savior! But in the very same breath, I have seen such beauty in these broken souls, the glimpses of who each of us were meant to be, and that is a cause for hope.

I’ve seen much more of the world since coming to DC. In just a few short weeks, I will have been to five of the seven continents. Hopefully I can mark off Australia and Antarctica sooner rather than later as well. And I have gotten to travel our country, with dear friends from Boston to Bloomington, and yet am still known by many of my friends’ parents. And of course there are always those who loved me enough from Texas to send me here to learn to fly. My limited world view has been stretched.

But the constant of these six years has been my community. When Kara invited me to Rez, I had no idea what phenomenal blessings the Lord had in store. They haven’t always been easy; in fact, some of the hardest moments of my entire life have happened in the context of this community. I have never wept or laughed like I have here. I’ve hit rock bottom. Wallowed in the mire, but I have lived in the moments that whisper of what Eden was and what the new city one day will be. I am so thankful for a community that has walked through it all with me. People who have stood in the gap for me. Believed when I couldn’t and wouldn’t. Who have cheered me on as a I took on crazy endeavors like marathons and triathlons and shown up at countless meals to sit around my table just because. I have been welcomed into homes when I’m lonely, been called out on my crap because they love me too much to let me stay in it.

Today, I joyfully enter into my seventh year of living in Washington, DC utterly incapable of knowing what will happen but perfectly content to walk with a God who does know and care and that I can trust.

Now to Him who is able to do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine according to the power at work within us. (Ephesians 3:20)

Suprise!

I am sad to admit that I don't think that God can suprise me anymore. I am not sure why I think that, but there is this large part of me that just doesn't expect God to do suprising things. He does good things. And He does miracles. I will be one of the first to admit that. And I trust Him.

But for some reason when The Park Forum email came this morning, with the title "God Can Suprise Us," I was suprised [ha! just reread that line] by the way my heart pushed against that statement. The first thought in my head was "Oh yeah? How? Prove it suckers."

And not only is that wrong, I think that is unfair to a God who does suprise us. My favorite verse in scripture talks about "infinitely more than we can ask or imagine" (Eph. 3:20), and here I am being a stupid kid and even as I write this fighting with these thoughts.

The thing is I want God to suprise me. I do. The little girl in me wants her Father to show up in particular areas in her life. I want him to shock and awe and get rid of the cynical woman who is using the fact that God is faithful and steadfast, two very true characteristics about Him, to reason with the child, saying, "Sorry, honey, He can't."

But He CAN.

Oh Lord. Help my unbelief.

twenty nine

I made it.

Twenty-nine years.

How in the world did it happen?

Grace upon grace.

I can only hope that I press into the God who freely gave this grace.

And look less like myself at the thirty and more like him.

almost there

I turn twenty-nine the day after tomorrow.

This has been a pretty amazing year. I am not sure how to top it. Machu Picchu, a new job, buying a house, the Great Wall. Those were all pretty big events. And actually, those all happened within the first four months.

So part of me is looking at this milestone of mine asking what I tend to ask every year, "What could he possibly be up to?" And then I recite to myself my favorite piece of scripture, "Now to Him who is able to do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine according to the power at work within us."

And He does. For some crazy reason the Holy Spirit is at work within me and by His grace and mercy, stuff happens. Good stuff. Stuff beyond who I am and what I am capable of. Stuff that can only be attributed to a God is just and creative and loves me. The God who has vision unlike any one on earth. The God whom I can trust with all my crap, and all my desires and all my dreams.

I always tend to look at the psalm that corresponds with my age; often in hopes of gaining some insight into the year ahead. And there have been themes. Twenty-seven was a year of waiting in the Lord, trusting that He was, in fact, good. And twenty-eight, "The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song, I give thanks to Him." (28:7) I have found serious comfort in these verses and it is certainly more and more a state of my heart. Twenty-six and  twenty-seven were tough years. Oh my, were they heavy, hard years that I felt like I was being crushed. But eventually life came back; and with its return was faith. He was and is my refuge.

The first four statements of Psalm 29 is about praise. "Ascribe, ascribe, ascribe, worship." Then the next eight verses are all statements of strength and majesty of the Lord. And verse eleven asks that the Lord give his strength to His people.

I am hopeful to learn from this Psalm, I am hopeful to worship the Lord and praise Him again and again with statements of truth of who God is both in my life and the life of everyone I know.

So, I am not so sure about the twenty-ninth birthday.

Not Afraid to Die

I am by no means anticipated death soon, though I am not naive enough to think that it couldn't happen any moment now. But one of the things I love about fall is that it reminds me that it is okay to die.

All of us will die. That is an absolute fact. The fact that I believe so many overlook though is that we all have a life after death. We all have a choice about eternity; it is just a matter of sharing in the Father's joy or experiencing his wrath.

But as I drove all over Virginia's countryside yesterday, I marveled at the beauty of the trees dying. The colors were glorious! Red, orange, yellow, green and all with a crisp blue sky. It was lovely.

And I wish I could say fall is my favorite season, and I do love it. But the truth is I also love spring. Because life comes back.

So these trees remind me it is okay to die. It is okay to lay down my life, my will, my desires, my dreams, my plans. All these things can die.

And they will be made glorious in death. The beauty of my Father will be made known in my death to self.

And beauty will come forth once again in new life, new desires, new dreams and new plans. And they won't be mine, though I will rejoice in them as if they were. They'll be my Father's.

I'm not afraid to die. New life is already on the other side for me.

For what do I wait?

I can do nothing but wait.

I don’t like waiting.

Which is better than hating waiting. Which I used to.

It does help that I am infinitely busier these days so that I often do not get a chance to think much about those things for which I wait.

I suppose I should say that the Lord was generous during 2009 and 2010 to teach me quite a bit about waiting and trusting. It was my theme. I hated it and loved it at the same time. But I did come to the other side of those years with a deep heart knowledge that I belong to a God who is both worth waiting for and trusting in.

I think in life we always wait. No matter what our stage of life is, we will wait. And the little waits that we all participate in are a part of a bigger wait. The ultimate wait of Christ’s second coming and the glory of an eternity no longer separated from our Heavenly Father in his perfect kingdom.

But I’m waiting again in a few little ways. Trusting that while I believe that I’m waiting for specific things, God has a better idea of what I need and a perfect idea of when it should come.

And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in you.
Psalm 39:7

The Fall

One of my favorite things about DC is seasons. I love the way you can time life by what the trees are doing.

The photo to the left was not taken by me, but I put it up primarily for my most wonderful friend, Angela, I know she misses the fall.

I don't what it is about this picture, and about this season, but I think fall is my favorite. Though I love spring and summer too. And winter, but only because of my birthday and other holidays. But the transitional seasons are definitely high up there.

Fall always reminds me that dying is not as scary as I think it is. In the case of so many trees, the death they sucumb to every year is actually quite beautiful. And it always gives way to new life. There is a lot of hope in that.

So as I am learning more and more about deaths; my own will and dreams to take on ones from someone with a higher calling, I'm encouraged by these trees that are around me. And I hope to send roots deeper still for a strong foundation.

But I won't go off too much more into these thoughts, I will just enjoy the fall, for it is a most precious gift.