Sparrow

I saw this picture of a little sparrow singing his heart out while around him a storm threatened to blow off his wing feathers. Right now I feel a bit of the storm. Life is somewhat unsettling, and it's only by remembering that spunky sparrow that I'm not discouraged. I'm thankful for a God who keeps our hearts calm if we ask and choose to sing the song He puts on our lips.
Anyway, I know this is cryptic. :) It's meant to be, a little. And meanwhile, I am enjoying the spring weather and the thought of only three more full weeks of school and the anticipation of a trip out of town this weekend! I love fresh starts, all kinds: newly sharpened pencils, a just-filled glass of water, the way a soft-serve ice cream cone has that little swirled tip at the top. So spring and a different routine and new places are great.
God just reminded me of those things, and now I have more to sing about. Isn't He good?

School

I should be grading. Instead, I am vainly trying to update this blog, a place to which my thoughts have dug in their heels and refused to go for awhile. Stubborn. Anyway, I type an update on my life, with some pictures to prove that there are people here in this "new" place. (It doesn't feel quite so new anymore.) The ones below are in my charge for eight hours each day.

Grandparents' Day! We played the chimes and did a skit. I felt like Miss van der Molen, my music teacher thru high school.
All right, must go. More later.

Friendly

Starting over in a new place makes me thankful for good friends. Or rather, it reminds me, "Don't take them for granted." It's easy to do that with people you've been around for years, who you feel comfortable with, who you'd think nothing of calling in the middle of the day for a chat or to get together.

New places mean building relationships all over again, from scratch, easier said than done.

Lost

I have come to the sad realization that I will forever be getting lost. It's what I have to look forward to everytime I visit or move to a new place: getting in the car, directions in hand, then ending up in quite a different spot than I'd imagined, or taking three times as long as I should have to get there.

Case in point: Sunday, I took myself off to Antietam Battlefield, the great expanse of hilly fields and woods where the bloodiest battle fought on American soil took place. I made it there fine, but soon realized 1) I had not entered at the beginning but in the middle, 2) I was on a one-way driving tour road, and 3) I had lost track of the tour signs somewhere in a tiny town and had no way back.

That's when I took Harper's Ferry Road through the moutains, into West Virginia, and finally out again by route of a freeway whose sign miraculously matched one I could actually locate in my spiral RandMcNally road map. Home to Hagerstown!

I love exploring. But I did get a panicky feeling in my chest when I realized I was somewhat low on gas and had no idea where I was.

One first-rate event was that I walked down to the Burnside Bridge (historical sketch, top right) and felt Mr. Reichert's chalkboard diagrams come alive. I was hoping to go to Harper's Ferry, as well, but that was before I got lost.

P.S. I just realized that the last several posts have been made on dates that are multiples of seven. Ah, well. If you add up the 2 and the 5 from today's date, you can still end up with the perfect number! Ha.

Engaged!

I still haven't found free wireless internet, but . . . I'm taking a slight break from work anyway.

Mitch and I are tying the knot!

December 23, 2007
Cedar Lake, MI

God and Money

Free and Clear: a book I'd like to finish reading.

I started reading this book while I was doing laundry at Mitch's, looking for something to pass the time. Back in the day, when laundry had to be scrubbed by hand, people didn't have this thing called boredom. My boredom didn't last long, though, because I found the book.

(Even if I had never found the book, there are always so many things to do. Breathe. Stare at the wall. Mow the lawn. Shovel snow. Sing a song. Do a dance. Make faces in the mirror and scare your socks off.)

This book contains the most amazing thought: Money is a big deal to God. Not because He's a miser or a penny-pincher. He owns it all and yet He lets us choose what we do with it. (While requiring tithe--1/10--He encourages every money decision to be brought before Him since He's the owner. Hmmm. What about that division between "secular" and "sacred"?) Anyways, since He has the corner on the money market, He's shared with us His money secrets.

Get this: there are over 2,000 verses in the Bible that talk about money. I wish I had the exact number, but that figure alone boggles my mind. It's just such a relief to know that God understands. He knows how important money is, and He's got it covered.

Main point: Debt-free living--freedom by truth. Thank you, Jesus.

Alive

How much that one word means.

More than breathing.
More than brain waves.
More than wiggling a toe.
More than feeling raindrops on your forehead.

I was thinking today about being alive.

See, God wakes me up each morning with the blessing of breath. He gives me a new day, a whiteboard squeegeed free of yesterday's problems, and prepares a meal for two in the breakfast nook.

I have this choice: eat, fellowship, knit my heart with His throughout the day, and be wholly alive.

Or, I can rush by. My day after that? Brain dead. It's choosing to die, except that for some reason, God has me hooked up to the respirator. Maybe it's because there's still hope. Maybe it's just some coma that I'll wake up from. Maybe my analogy is falling apart.

But the point is, being truly alive means living abundantly.
I've seen how meaningless life is without Him. I see the effects of soul death every day.

God does, too, and all the while He reaches out to point us to Himself.

"Look!" He says. "You'll find it in Me!"

"Find what?" I ask, tired of looking and afraid of another dead end. "Who's going to be able to see me, and love me, and make me alive?"

"I Am."

Shaped

"Yet, O LORD, you are our Father.
We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand."
Isaiah 64:8

How is God shaping you?

Autumn

At home, the sumac bushes burn with color. I take a walk in the field behind our house over school break, trying to capture fall with a camera. But my lens can't hold autumn.

The acrid smoke, the cold, the crunch of leaves under my feet, the foggy puffs of my breath: my lens fails.

I love fall. I like to watch Nature stretch as God tucks her in for the night, lowering His voice to the whisper of winter. I see her bare and break and freeze, and I hear her rustling as she settles under the covers, trusting.

Frankly, I'm a little envious of autumn. It's a struggle for me to trust so simply. It is hard to die each day in want of rebirth. I don't like baring my soul.

But I want to be broken more than anything. And I see the leaves, falling.

It's time.