Perfect love casts out fear... thoughts on learning to accept that

The heavens are crying.

A rainstorm is beautiful behind glass; behind a screen... only the coolness of the breeze that sweeps the droplets permeates. Tree branches swish and their leaves quiver with the movement, taking turns being exposed and then being sheltered.

As a girl I never felt safe during thunder storms. My brother and uncles would take game in terrifying me with stories of people being struck by lightning; I suppose thinking that their laughter might show me not to be afraid? Even in high school I would sleep in the basement if it began to rain strongly. Yet I wanted to be a storm chaser. :) Over-compensation, perhaps? One extreme to the next... Now I see my Creator as I watch storms come in. But still now I would rather be sheltered and in strong arms as the skies alight with ferocity than be bared in the midst, on my own. The little girl remains, needing reassurance. I am in my Father's strong arms... learning to trust other strong arms.

The Spirit revealed a bit more of my own heart to me driving home from work last night. Yet another fear of trusting... I have seen time and again God not giving me what I so deserve - of having every reason to bear deserved consequences, but He mercifully spares me of them. The most deserved, and greatest mercy of course being that I should have been condemned to hell, but Christ died in my stead. It would be easier to receive justice in these little things; to constantly be shown mercy is a love that hurts. It is a mercy that shows how much of my life I haven't been loved, how much I don't expect to be loved. My heart is not merciful like that. I don't love mercy. I distrust it. I want what I deserve; I want people to get what they deserve.

That is so revealing. That is so not like Christ. The renewing of my mind is perhaps the longest process. How long will it take for me to trust? Should I desire mercy in these little things? Right now my thought is, "When I have made these mistakes, when I have messed things up, I ought to pay for it. If I made the choice, I should take the punishment." Part of me cringes every time I end up not taking the punishment, every time God works it out so I get away free. It's too good. I don't deserve it. He loves me too much.

When people love me like that, as they are more and more, I distrust them, also. And I want to distance myself... The old mind is saying that it's supposed to hurt - people are supposed to hurt; their love can't be real, it can't be trusted. It is subtle, though. This old mind speaks the deepest lie, hissing just loud enough to make me doubt the truth of the love that at the same time I do know is real and is to be trusted. Father, renew my mind, I pray. Teach me to love mercy. Please love me until I joyfully expect it; and please give my brothers and sisters courage and patience to keep loving me until I expect it from them, as well... until I am thankful for it, until I am not afraid.

In Jesus' name.

I have an interview at the hospital tomorrow at 4pm! yippee!!

All in a day's grace

This is so great! We have a missions seminar in October (last year was the first of a decidedly annual event), and our second speaker just confirmed that he would be able to commit!!! Woohoo! He's a pastor in Brooklyn, NY of a church whose family is primarily former substance abusers, prostitutes, homeless people (who've found a Home that cannot be lost!!) ... Edwin Colon is the man - he as a drug user himself before he came to Christ. The church started as a Bible study in his home. He does not possess a pastoral degree. The work the Lord has done through him is awesome. I'm so excited!!! I love being part of the missions team, too, and helping this whole process come together. I am working on a press release. I'll post it when complete.

I heard back today from a local hospital that I had applied to volunteer at! I will return her call tomorrow and we'll set up an interview! Yay! It may be a lead-in for my externship. Or it may not. Either way, it will be good experience. The neat thing is that they use their volunteers as they are skilled. Some hospitals limit volunteers to delivering flowers or working in the gift shop. Actually, I would love delivering flowers and visiting with patients. I will love doing whatever they have for me to do!

I went to ballet class again tonight. There is an adult class Wednesday nights for the month of July. And because I'm an alumnus, it's FREE. Bonus. I love dancing - when God knit me together, He made me a dancer. Even though my technique leaves MUCH to be desired (four years out of training will do that), it is so good. In the fall, I will continue to take class as my new schedule allows. There are two other women in the classes: Susan and Mandy. Susan is probably late 40s? She came late so I didn't get to talk to her much. Mandy is my age; just graduated with English/Education majors and will begin teaching high school, beginning-level English in the fall. She did ballet when she was 3, then became a gymnast. I was the opposite. Gymnast-turned dancer. She plans to continue dancing in the fall, also. I look forward to knowing her better.

I hope my husband likes to dance. That would be swell. If he loves to dance, that would be sweller. :) Though, if he loves the Lord with his whole heart, mind, soul, and strength, and truly loves others out of that Love, then he can have two left feet. :)

I dropped into my mom's after ballet (I'd gone to see her right after school, but she wasn't home) - I dropped in just to say hello and ended up staying two hours - just sitting on the sofa talking. We are becoming friends again, and it is so good. I've missed her. Keep praying for her. She is learning much. Also pray for Rich - he is her boyfriend. I haven't been able to spend time with him, yet, so I only know what she has told me about him. Pray I may be an honest and graceful witness; humbly Loving.

Tomorrow I am leaving school after my second class to go to a funeral of my dear Betty's husband Duncan. He was 92 and very ready; Betty said she didn't know if he was a believer. He'd had a stroke seven years ago. He knew my dad, actually. Pray my dad may come to the funeral, also, and be softened to the gospel. My dear Betty - she is a beautiful, gracious woman. So caring of others. Today during the wake she sat and held my hand, introducing me to her children and grandchildren before I even had time to introduce myself. :) We are family, too. I love her very much.

Shade-trees and roses

It is a sticky-hot day in southern NH. Two friends from church got married this afternoon - Paul and Greer. God is smiling. Greer's best friend gave the most beautiful toast I have ever heard... she truly sees Greer through the eyes of Christ, and it was...beautiful. Humbling. I had never seen Greer that way, and I wonder how many other treasures I have passed by because I am not looking through His eyes - am not loving with His heart...

Lenny Spitale gave a message during the ceremony (he is such a neat man with the most tender and caring of hearts), speaking of the Song of Solomon: to Paul, Greer is a rose among thorns - all other women are thorns to him compared with her. To Greer, Paul is the tree under which she finds shade and rest.

I was thinking about these verses... God must have to really make the woman stand out to the man as one in millions... Women are different: It is not hard for us to spot a good shade-tree and go sit under it. And if it proves to be a good shade-tree, we are ready to stay there. Not seemingly so with men: it seems if God did not make all other women thorns in their view, they would just keep on seeing roses. :)

I suppose the moment when a woman is no longer a rose among roses, but a rose among thorns, is the moment a man knows he would marry her. And he needn't worry about whether she would marry him because by the time God has clarified his view, she has probably already been resting in his shade for quite a while. :)

Beautiful One, my soul must sing

Today I left home seeking a peaceful place to study for tomorrow's final exams and ended up at the ocean. My favorite stretch of beach in NH is not sand at all, but rather a length of winding coastal rocks rising up to a banking where the mainland levels. Route 1-A follows the shoreline all the way up through to Maine; between the pavement of the road and the drop-off to the rocks is a grassy flatland with a walkway and wildflowers, and periodically a bench or stone arrangement or group of bushes... landscaped, but naturally so.

On one of these grassy areas I spread my blanket and then my books... and then myself. :) I never realized how similar the gull's cry is to the wolf's lone howl, or how the clouds can rise on the horizon-line and appear as ship's sails, coming home.

I had not realized how quiet the writer's voice in me has been of late;

how needed she to be loosed and let free.

Beauty: therein lies such power for healing and renewal. A few simple hours of gazing upon the waters of my God... hearing His rhythm, feeling His breeze, seeing His artistry, even the scents of salt and grass and greenery... the warmth of His sun, and the relationships of His creatures... to be in the midst of His handiwork, in the presence of Himself, with His Word at my fingertips, and all simotaneously in the palm of His hand...

my soul found its resting place; my voice, its freedom.