sitting thoughts

The escape of a quiet coffee shop: comfort in the picture window-side seat, the slow of the busy, the ability to be and enjoy the luxury of sitting… and supping smooth coffee.

I ponder; I wonder; I question: what’s to be, what will become my life and pursuit? I’m going to be a mother. I’m going to be really tired for a long time. But I want to live to the fullest. I want no excuse to stifle passion. I don’t want the gifts and vocations He’s set before me to remain idle. How will it be? How will it come about? Every time it’s unexpected. Every time the new springs us without any resemblance to what I anticipated. With that I desire the fullest grace to receive and be fully within that, knowing life to the full. Jesus said He came to give life to the full. And I won’t settle for less.

I, in no way, mean to define what that is or write the prescription for it’s achievement. Though I tend to do this, causing myself to believe that the “fullness” will come about by this way or the other. But one thing I’ve discovered quite simply is the chronic condition of discontentment and its knack to linger and follow a person despite the change of circumstance and landscape. I knew this were the case before I even lived it out. I understood the reality that no matter where I go or what new thing comes about I still take myself along for the ride. And there lies my issue. Or issues.

I ache for fullness, sweetness, and enjoyment. I know it’s a state of heart and its attainment doesn’t come with a new place, new thing, new vocation. But so many times I hope it will. And yet I believe these things do count as instruments in bringing about the desired. But perhaps I bank on them far too much. Yes. Yes I do.

For whatever reason I remain restless and wanting. I don’t think this is an altogether bad situation to find oneself in. Is it not better to strive and look towards more rather than find complacency in a life that will forever lack? The world is fallen. We are fallen beings. We are not intended for what this body and world has to now offer. A certain discontent is healthy, then, and quite natural. And then it comes down to what I hope in.

I want to find it all in God. I know that’s where it hides. “For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3.) I want every bit I can get. So I guess I’ll desire still; ponder; wonder; hope.

This Christmas

I am reminded by a faithful friend (my husband) that I am very good at talking about the bad things. I hate to emphasize the fact that I can very easily maintain a bad attitude, but there it is. I’m a pessimist. He has also pressed me with the truth of simply trusting God—in the everyday things, to remind myself to trust Him. Many of you who know me well could readily say this has been my issue for far too long. And I suppose it has been. But, despite my stubborn unbelief and my constant wrestling, I have to remember… to trust Him even there. For whatever reason I seem to be taking forever in learning my lesson here. But for whatever reason it’s come to that, and I gotta keep hope: He never lets go. I’m not so easily lost; nothing can separate me from His love; no one and nothing can snatch me from His hand.

So, with all this said, I would now like to write a Christmas tribute of thanksgiving.

My husband is a remarkable man. He is patient, steadfast, willing, and kind. Throughout my scores of complaints, my bouts of verbal turmoil, and, sometimes, my truly needed times of conversational processing, he has stood beside me, offering encouragement and incessantly seeking to point me to the Lord, His trustworthiness and love. I cannot overlook this blessing. God knew how much I needed my husband’s heart and, likewise, his beautiful companionship. I have a man who loves me fervently, despite my many frailties. And this, I know, is from God. Danny Porter was made for me. He is hot. He is a hard-worker, honorable, a deeply caring and sensitive man, and, above all, he is a lover of Jesus. I know that his heart bears sweet testimony of God. I need him.  I love him. Thank you for my husband, Jesus.

This season seems to completely illuminate the beautiful family I’ve been given. The sweet friendship God has coupled with my relationship to my parents is so unique and, perhaps, rare. Being away from them for the first time during this tradition and memory-packed holiday, skype has been a lifeline. Seeing their faces warms my heart. Their laughter, shared humor and love is quite simply the best “Christmas lights” I could ever have to adorn my home. Even more, I have my sister’s constant “skype company” which sometimes includes joy-filled glimpses of the cutest and most beautiful niece anyone could have. Jillian is one of my best friends and has blessed my life with the sweetest “older-to-younger” sister relationship. I love her dearly and love how well we compliment each other. She has an awesome husband, an amazing brother-in-law. I love having another brother. And I am lavished to have an older brother, Trent. “The older brother” role is something I feel has a lot of weight. I am so glad he’s the one to fill it. In so many ways, I really don’t mind being the youngest. Having older siblings to look up to is quite an amazing things. And I cannot forget my lovely sister-in-law Marci. Marriage is so beautiful; it expands your family to include such amazing people. Marci is now my dear sister. And I love her mucho. Thank you for the grace of my family, Jesus—these and so many others: grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, and the “adopted-in”.

My hometown, Spokane, is so dearly missed. The coffee shops, the friends, the familiar that still bears the name “home” for me, it’s all there in Spokane. I love my parents’ home, the place where I grew up, the memories and love that come with that territory. I love the “second homes” I had strewn about—the Brown’s house (Aunt Michele, Uncle Garrett, cousins Shea, Amanda, Teagan, Kelly, and Lukas). Amanda has been a long-time “bestie” who I will always hold near and dear—many a childhood memory of playtime, of junior high craziness and high school fun, of last-minute study sessions for college exams and long bus trips to and from school—she has been a beautiful companion. Calvary Spokane, too, has been like a home to me; so many amazing friends, and quite a remarkable “family” had developed there over the 12 years I called it my church. The list of people could go on and on: Mandy, whom I grew up with and love dearly, Collin, Keith, the Pollicks, the Nerrens… God, thank you for so many loved ones.

I am thankful for the plethora of amazing coffee shops that Spokane possesses and the many friends we have there “over the counter.” I have a deep respect for barista’s, particularly at local shops, for it seems they bear a lot of scrutiny for the service they provide. No excuses for bad service given, but everyone of them have a heart, a background, a story. And Danny and I both have found some sweet friends in many of them. Not to mention the impeccable coffee and food that many of our favorite shops claim. We miss them. But I am thankful for them.

God has been good to me. And I cannot forget to thank Him… for Him. For remaining zealous, persistent, and true, even when I fail to believe and trust. I am thankful that He’s given me, and everyone, the chance to know Him, and have life to the full. I am thankful the profound heart that He bears, that I am longing to truly know and love all the more. I am thankful that He remains sovereign no matter the craziness of life. I am thankful that He never gives up on me.

This is my tribute this Christmas. God is good.

Christmas Time Is… Approaching

No, I can’t say it’s “here”, for as I write it’s only early November. But I’d have to confess that even October awakens my thoughts of Christmas. So much so that I can’t even stand the wait through November. I’ve already begun my earliest attempts at DIY creativity for handmade ornaments and “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” even now, sets my heart in such an atmosphere I can’t contain myself. There has been many a cup of peppermint hot chocolate to stave off the chill in our old apartment.  And you have no idea to what extent my heart rejoiced when Starbucks featured their holiday drinks in those lovely, red cups. To this day, I consider the peppermint mocha “Christmas in a cup.” So these festivities commence and it’s not even Thanksgiving. But my excitement will not be restrained! I love and adore all the sounds, smells, wrapping of gifts, and décor that tells of Christmas. It has been an obsession of mine that has only grown to flourish since my childhood whence I’d begun to initiate and oversee the heaving of boxes upstairs to open and make my parents house turn to magic. In later years, it was almost left upon me to undertake the task. I did it with relish and joy.

And now, I have a home of my own. This is Danny and my first Christmas together, so the sentiments of the coming Christmas have excited me all the more: the traditions to discover and make, the things I’ve collected to adorn our home, the baking to commence. But something has overshadowed the initial excitements of the season, particularly my desire to spoil husband, friends, and family with gifts. (This is most definitely part of my love language; I cannot deny it.) We are, let’s say, on a tight budget. Thus, the NEED for creativity and DIY ideas. I have never had to push myself to this kind of “craftiness,” if you will. But, as my sister told me, it will surely make this Christmas far more sentimental and meaningful. More heart and creativity must go into it now, and, perhaps, even more thought.

I, myself, have been a tug-a-war of mixed feelings. Part of me has found a different excitement over the simplicity this Christmas calls for: I realize, amidst this frugal time, that I have little need and even my wants for this or that indulgence has seemed to wane. And yet, my urge to give and spoil, to wrap an array of gifts with such anticipation, to see my home screaming “Christmas” with all the lights and trimmings, has caused a spout of discouragement. I certainly can’t do all I would, given the means. It’s not something I wish to complain about. But it certainly a good reality check! And, even so, it causes me to evaluate what I really hold most dear about Christmas. Yikes! Heart check!

It’s not that all these things that fall under “the most wonderful time of the year” are wrong. But they take quite an easy tendency of capturing the full attention of this time and season. For others, this may be the bigger significance to Christmas. And then there are some who loathe Christmas altogether. This may be due very much to an overemphasis of presents and family. But I know that if everything was stripped away; if there were no gifts, no tree with all its trimmings, no home with all its red and green cheer; if there wasn’t even much to rejoice over at all, Christmas would remain a sounding gong and call for celebration. And perhaps I need a Christmas just like this one to put me in my place on the matter. Or maybe it’s still a part of the process God has me in to show me what is far more important. I call it a process, because I’ve struggled with the real weight of Christmas for some time now. And I’ve always wanted Christ’s birth to overtake my heart with the same joy proclaimed in “Joy to the World” along with all those beautiful yuletide hymns.  It’s been a constant struggle. But I know God has been working to make the storybook idea of the nativity a true, tangible, breathtaking reality.

And, with that acknowledgement, I suppose I’m content. I will discover, rediscover, and grow in the fact of my Savior coming as a impoverished babe for the precise intent to reconcile and redeem what sin has raped and soiled. Even as of late, I have become better acquainted with the unruly deficit in my life, in this world, because of sin. And I pursue the power that saves: nothing but the blood of Jesus. As the song goes, “He lived to die.”

The celebration begins with His life here. The redemption plan thus commenced. And with all the joy Christmas already excites in my life, how much more? I will continue to bask in all the beautiful Christmas festivities. I will remain a lover of the scents, smells, sounds, that thus follow. And, as far as I’m concerned, I will only become more passionate towards the season. His life reborn within shall make it so.

Joy to the world

The Lord has come

Let earth receive her King

Let every heart

Prepare Him room…