Thursday, May 31, 2012

10 Minute Workout

Some of the most-dreaded words to ever come out of my high school track coach's mouth. I know, you're thinking, "how bad can 10 minutes be?". To a sprinter with low endurance, or a distance runner with no quick turn over, pretty bad.

You have one minute to run down a football field as fast as you can and jog back. The few seconds left over are your recovery, because when that minute runs out, you take off again. You do this 10 times in all, making it the perfect workout when you're in a rush.

As a high schooler, I hated this workout with a passion. I could barely even complete it. It was rough, to say the least.

But for college I joined cross country. I've been nailing some pretty nice runs and long bike rides lately, so I decided it was time to give this another shot. I've developed a love of barefoot running, so I shucked my shoes and ventured out.

It felt amazing. I felt fast on the sprint and relaxed on the way back. I grabbed just a few seconds' rest each time, but still felt fairly good when it was time to take off again. After number 10, I got water, stretched a little, and then you know what?

I did it again.

But what's crazier is

I did it a third time.

It reminded me of being back at gymnastics before things got hard, sprinting across the floor and still doing cartwheels in the hallway as I headed home.

Barefoot was a bonus too ;)

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Great Are You

How I love Your works
My God, My King
How I love Your works
My God, My King

Your Name rings on the plains
Like a not so distant train
And Love and history are near
In the flowers that you make
The flowers that you make

Because I'll never hold the picture
Of the whole horizon in my view
Because I'll never rip the night in two
It makes me wonder
Who am I, Who am I, Who am I
And great are You

How I love Your Word
My God, My King
How I love Your Word
My God, My King

Your love cuts through these pages to my heart
As you grieve our sins, right from the start
And sacrifice and paradise are in
The plans th
at you made, The plans that you made
Chorus (2x)

Who am I? It's one of those questions that we consistently ask ourselves, no matter where we are in life. Developing preschoolers, confused teenagers, optimistic college grads, overwhelmed new parents, accomplished empty nesters, the well-lived elderly. We all want to know where we fit in this world, what our purpose is. But when the speaker here asks the question, "Who am I?", his answer is "Great are You" 

Because it doesn't matter who we are or where we've been or what we've done, so long as we serve the Lord, the Mighty One who is strong to save. When He was asked who He is, he simply said, "I AM". So if God is, then we are not. 

God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” Exodus 3:14

And when John the baptist is asked, "Who are you?", what is his response?

 And this is the testimony of John, when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” He confessed, and did not deny, but confessed, “I am not the Christ.” John 1:19-20, emphasis mine. 

What if that was our response? What if whenever we wanted to ask ourselves, "Who am I?", we instead said, "Lord, great are You. All that matters is who You are and what You've done. You have covered me in Your love, and You will show me Your way. Great are You"? 

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Is It A Gift?

Thanks to my Senegal experiences, the readership of this blog increased by a significant amount. Many of you have been encouraging, saying you liked my writing and that I have a gift for it. For a number of years, people from my dad to my English teachers have been telling me I have a knack for the written. But I wonder if it's true.

Excuse the immodesty here, but I do acknowledge that I'm able to write well. But still I wonder.

I was an early and avid reader. I devoured books, and given the chance, I'd take reading over recess just about any day. I liked spelling and alphabetizing things. I was fascinated by words - their origins, their alternate meanings, and other languages. And this fed my love of writing. I've been keeping a journal for as long as I can remember, back to the days when the most important thing there was to write was the latest 1st grade birthday party. I went to young author's conferences and read books like "How To Be The Greatest Writer In The World", taking each exercise in the book seriously. In high school, my friends and I would pull out things we'd been writing lately and swap, reading through each other's work, asking questions, offering critiques (over lunch at McDonald's, no less!). Throughout college, I've been one of the go-to girls when it comes for someone to help look over a paper. And I've gotten the chance to dabble in book editing.

But it all begs the question, do I write because I'm a good writer, or am I a good writer because I write? I've really worked on my writing - doing workshops, reading books on writing, listening to authors, and of course just reading a lot. Is it still a gift if I've worked so much on it?

One idea that I have is that I'm not a gifted writer, but that I was given the desire to learn about words and writing and all related things. But who knows?

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Things As They Are

I love Amy Carmichael, and while I appreciate and enjoy Elisabeth Elliot's book on her, A Chance to Die, I truly enjoy reading Amy's own words. If is one of my favorites. Today I started reading Things As They Are, a book about the challenges and realities of being a missionary in India. I was surprised I hadn't read it before, but also thankful. I feel like I understand so much more having been abroad in a country with a non-Christian majority. She says so many heartfelt and wise things. She truly cared for the lost.

Luke 7:22 came up today at church, and coupled with the Matthew and Isaiah verses I've been looking at recently, God's up to something with this whole "lost are found" thing. I'm excited to see how it works out. It rang especially true as I read Things As They Are. Here are a few excerpts for you:

“How much one would like to tell a different story! But a made-up story is one thing and a story of facts is another”

“Yet ‘though it’s dull at whiles,’ there is joy in the doing of it, there is joy in just obeying. He said, ‘Go, tell,’ and we have come and are telling, and we meet Him as we ‘go and tell’”.

“You find it hard enough to grow, if one may judge from the constant wails about ‘leanness,’ and yet you are surrounded by every possible help to growth. You have a whole Bible, not just a scrap of it; and you can read it all, and understand at least most of it. You have endless good books, hymn-books, and spiritual papers; you have sermons every week, numerous meetings for edification, and perhaps an annual Convention. Now strip yourself of all this. Shut your Bible, and forget as if you ad ever known it all you ever read or heard, except the main facts of the Gospel. Forget all those strengthening verses, all those beautiful hymns, all those inspiring addresses. Likewise, of course, entirely forget all the loving dealings of God with yourself and with others – a Hindu has no such memories to help her. Then go and live in a devil’s den and develop saintliness. The truth is, even you would find it difficult; but this Hindu girl’s case is worse than that, a million times worse”

“We feel for them. But feelings will not save souls; it cost God Calvary to win us”

 “’ But I cannot follow so far’”

The last one hit me especially hard. A Hindu girl was interested in Jesus. She wanted to be a Christian. But she also wanted to remain in her caste, and perform those rituals. Amy pointed out the verses that would be incompatible with the girl's idea, but the girl could not get over the fact that when you choose Jesus, you choose only Him. It's not Jesus and __________; it's Jesus Christ, Lord of all. 

Praise God for Amy and other bold missionaries who do not conform to a culture's ways, but present the Gospel, and leave the things as they are. 

Friday, May 25, 2012

Washed Over Me

Washed Over Me - Adama Cappa 

By the blood of Jesus Christ, I can answer and by his love and 
Sacrifice, I am whole again. All the pieces I have torn apart, are 
Scattered all around. There is not a trace, you took it all away. 

I've been washed, I've been cleansed, I have been made free. I've 
Been bought by the blood, my king has bled for me. The sweetest 
Victory won at Calvary, where your love, all your love washed over 

When the stains and shame my life, weighs me down again. Only 
You can purify. Restoring hope within. Every moment that I feel so far 
Away, you're not far from me. There is no escape from the shelter of 
Your name. 

Let it rain, let it rain. Let it overtake me. Let your love flood my heart. 
I am finally waking. I will never be the same as long as I remember.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Be Thou Exalted

"Let the average man be put to the proof on the question of who is above, and his true position will be exposed. Let him be forced into making a choice between God and money, between God and men, between God and personal ambition, God and self, God and human love, and God will take second place every time. Those other things will be exalted above. However the man may protest, the proof is in the choices he makes day after day throughout his life.

"'Be thou exalted' is the language of victorious spiritual experience. It is a little key to unlock the door to great treasures of grace. It is central in the life of God in the soul. Let the seeking man reach a place where life and lips join to say continually 'Be thou exalted,' and a thousand minor problems will be solved at once His Christian life ceases to be the complicated thing it had been before and becomes the very essence of simplicity" A.W. Tozer

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

I Once Was Lost

Life is funny sometimes, because you end up right back where you started.

On my third ever cross country practice, in the still-new-to-me city of Beloit, I got helplessly lost in a thunderstorm on an unfamiliar trail. I had to get out of it and ask a neighbor for directions back to campus. Rough.

Today I was out riding my bike, and I saw the same trail! I passed by it and kept riding. Sooner enough, I figured out how it all connected, and if the same thing had happened today, I could have easily gotten myself back to the sports center.

So on the way back, I decided to dip inside the trail. It was serene; it felt almost holy, as though the Presence of God had been awaiting me there. Pretty purple flowers lined the whole trail, and I left my bike on the path as I tested the springy earth beneath my feet, running freely in the knowledge I was completely alone. I was lost in a different sense; I was lost in Christ's freedom and joy.

And I guess that makes me found ;)

The Poor Get What?

The blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed (by healing) and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up and the poor have good news (the Gospel) preached to them. Matthew 11:5 AMP

The poor aren't made wealthy, they aren't given shelter or food or clothing. They're given the news that they are helpless. They are told that no Law will ever save them from their sin, that they are destined to be eternally separated from the God who created them. But then they are told that God is love, that love came down. God came down. He took the form of a man, Jesus Christ, and lived a sinless life. He served as the perfect sacrifice, taking to the cross and becoming our sin, so that we would no longer be enslaved to it, but instead be covered and renewed in the Lord Jesus. He rose again, securing life for all who believe in the power of His name. They are told that they will never die, that the kingdom of heaven will be theirs. 

And that's worth a whole lot more than a house.


It feels weird to be back in Beloit, without any of the people who've made my experience of the city and the campus what it is. With the spectacular weather, the campus is so pretty, but in an eerie sort of way.

I went for a walk down by the river and was reminded of the fact that my favorite cafe here had moved. Not far, but far enough for me. I don't know why it bothers me so much that it moved. It's not like I expected everything to stay the same when I went away. Maybe I didn't understand what different would feel like.

It's not like I stayed the same. I still second guess myself as I reach for food with my left hand. I don't have the same problem with expressing affection or care through touch. I'm more likely to spend time in a living room than shut off by myself.

But I think the best part of changes is the way that the more that changes, the more you can see what's stayed the same. And those are the forevers, the constants that keep us secure.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Damascus Road

When Kate cleans out her computer, it means you get to be tortured by old writing assignments that aren't "that" bad. This did not make it into the "for portfolio" folder, so you've all been warned.

Damascus Road

Just about every American home has a good ole Bible somewhere.  I won’t bore you folks with the fancy statistic, but it’s a lot. Anyway, if you were gonna pick one up and turn it to Acts chapter 9, you’d read about this guy, Saul who gets Jesus and becomes Paul on the way to Damascus. Once he gets Him, he never lets go and goes all around preachin’ and even bein beatin’ for loving Christ. But he sticks with it. Sounds pretty crazy if you ask me. At least it used to.

            Back in my day, I had this buddy who thought everyone had his or her own little Damascus Road experience. I didn’t know that he was one of them Jesus freaks when I started hangin out with him. ‘Course, he wasn’t really all that crazy til a few years down the line. Nah, we were just a coupla young men tossin around that football in the park. We knew some people, and every Saturday afternoon, rain or shine, we’d gather ourselves and kinda hang out. After, we’d go to the bars, and that’s when things would get wild. Well, I’d known Rod about three years when one year, he just didn’t show up. We didn’t see head or tails of that boy all summer. September rolled around and he showed up again, but man, he was weird. He kept talkin’ ‘bout how God had changed him that summer-he worked in some church or somethin’ with his folks. He played ball with us, still, but he wasn’t drinkin’ beer or liquor anymore, said it was takin’ him further away from bein’ like Jesus. One day I got around to askin’ him what had happened. That’s when he showed me Acts 9. He pulled a tiny little Bible out of his pocket right there in the park, and started readin’ like it was no big deal. Then he looked at me and told me he had hisself his own Damascus Road. Then he goes on and on ‘bout how everyone’s already on his way to Damascus. We all gonna meet Jesus one day, he claimed; some of us meet him on earth and some just when we die. And if we wait til we die, it’ll be too late. We won’t get to go to heaven.
            Now to me, this was all just some dude talkin’ crazy. At some point our little group separated-you know, people getting’ married, havin’ families, whatever. Me, I headed out west to see what I’d find, and fancied myself up on a mountain. Lived quiet, workin’ in town, not really botherin’ anyone. But I was passin’ by the church one day, and the preacher man was talkin’ ‘bout that guy Saul. Don’t you know it, I had to stop and listen a little. I couldn’t believe there was someone else as crazy as Rod (where was that boy anyway?!) out here.  All of a sudden, I felt real weird-dizzy. I found out now I had a heart attack. But ‘most the whole town was in the church not payin’ attention to the old guy outside it, so I died right there.
            I think it’s pretty hysterical that the last words I heard before I met Jesus were all about someone else meetin’ Him. This whole time, I never believed it could be true, it was all just too nuts. But then I had to. I had my own Damascus Road. And ya know what, it was too late. Now I’ve got to sit here sweatin’ it out with the rest of us who never volunteered to hike up that road. And let me tell you, it’s the worst. So hear me out: don’t come meet me. You don’t want that, trust me. Take some time and figure out how you gonna meet Jesus. Because He’s awesome, and I wish I got to spend more time with Him ‘stead of havin’ to head down here. I don’t care if you hitchhike, walk, crawl, jump a train, or ride you a bicycle down that road, just get your butt on it. Then you be Paul, and tell everyone about all about it. I jist hope you don’t get beat like he did, ‘cause I might feel a little terrible. Eh, but maybe not. ‘Cuz getting beat will still get you into heaven. At leas’ you won’t be here. 


I know you're all dying to hear what I'm up to - it's been a whole weekend and not a peep from me.

I moved to Beloit on Saturday, which included loading up a bike, a guitar, two suitcases, and a bin of stuff into our little aveo. How'd we do it? Magic. It was a relaxing weekend; my pastor's family has 3 kids: Nathaniel, 12. Carolyn, 11, and Gabbie, 8 (she'll be 9 August 11th and was stoked to hear I'd be around for her birthday, and that mine is so close to hers!).

I said it's like host family round 2, only not really because we all speak the same language, both literally and culturally. I really like being around kids; last night I helped the girls practice for a special concert they're doing, and tomorrow night I get to go to Carolyn's 5th grade choir concert. Kathryn and I have started teaching them a little French; it would be fun to get that going this summer. Kids are like sponges!

I already foresee myself ending up on worship team at least a few Sundays (Kathryn sings, Nate plays the drums, and Tim plays guitar), and one of the elders asked when I was giving a presentation on Senegal. That should all be fun. I'm anxious to see what my work schedule is going to look like, and I may end up picking up a second job at Nikki's.

Here's a song that I forgot how much I loved

A Mighty Fortress- Christy Nockles (off the Passion: Awakening Album)

Our God is, a consuming fire,
A burning holy Flame, with glory and freedom
Our God is, the only righteous judge,
Ruling over us with kindness and wisdom

We will keep our eyes on You
We will keep our eyes on You

A mighty fortress is our God
A sacred refuge is Your Name
Your Kingdom is unshakable
With You forever we will reign

Our God is, jealous for His own
None could comprehend, His love and His mercy
Our God is exalted on His throne
High above the heavens
Forever He's worthy...

We will keep our eyes on You
We will keep our eyes on You

We will keep our eyes on You
We will keep our eyes on You
So we can set our hearts on You
Lord we will set our hearts on You! 

Friday, May 18, 2012

This Morning

A poem by Micah Bournes

This Morning

This morning I read a message I received last night.
"I need uuu. I went out and I'm drunk and sad."
I felt a joyful anguish as my heart-tendered
a mix of selfishness and concern. Worried about
her safety but pleased that I was the net she longed
to fall into. I wonder which came first, her sadness
or intoxication? Was one supposed to fix the other,
or a result of it? Either way, she had her fill of emptiness
and realized she needs me. But it's frustrating because
she doesn't remember what she learned last night, this morning.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Poor Iced Latte

After I dropped Mom off at work, I went to Starbucks for an iced latte. Partially because I had a gift card and mostly because I just like coffee. For those of you who don't know, Starbucks is approximately the same distance from my house as Mauer is from the Science Center. And for those of you who have no idea what that means, it's really close. Especially when you have a car.

So I took it home and then I just really wanted my guitar. I wasn't concerned with much of anything else. I was caught in worship so beautiful, so pure, so precious. About an hour later, I remembered the iced latte, which by now was watery and not nearly as delicious as before.

The moral of this story is that iced lattes are great, but Jesus is still greater. Truth.

Pack It Up

Packing is more or less one of my absolute least favorite things to do. Lucky me, I've had plenty of packing over the last few months.

Right after New Year's, I finally unpacked from the Beloit semester, kicking off my organizing extravaganza.

Then it was time to pack for Senegal.

Then I packed for spring break, and turned around and packed for a weekend trip.

Before I knew it, I was packing for home.

And then a trip to Beloit.

And then home.

And then Beloit.

Maybe it's because I'm a freak when it comes to packing. I have to do it several days in advance, and there is a clear and definite system. It also involves picking through everything I'm not packing. It's not the moving that bothers me, it really is just the preparation.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Set Free

What are we free from?

There is therefore no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit. Romans 8:1 

How are we freed?

You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. John 8:32

What is truth?

And Jesus said to him, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me"  John 14:6

Can the truth really set us free?

So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. John 8:36

Can we own the freedom?

For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery. Galatians 5:1 

We are set free.

Jeans Shopping

If there ever were rules on this blog, they got thrown out a long time ago. Which means I can talk about whatever I want.

I haven't looked for jeans in a long long time. But I lost a little weight in Senegal, not to mention the fact that I really should replace at least one or two pairs anyway, so here I find myself: looking for jeans.

 Women and jeans are hard. It was hard when I was 13 and still stuck in the kids' section and it didn't get easier when I graduated from high school and actually got a body. No matter what size you are, finding the perfect pair of baby blues is a real challenge. I've come up with some tips to help myself out.

- Look good. Wear an outfit you really like so even if things aren't going that well, you still feel great.

- Be comfortable. Give yourself ease in walking around and changing.

- Get ideas. Look around online at your favorite stores before you go. Try and stay on task, especially if you're on a budget and don't actually need sequin shorts

- Listen to fun music on the way there. I picked Lecrae, with the windows down. You can have the money, you can have the fame, but me I want the glory, I'm livin for the name...and imma chase that, imma imma chase that. 

- Shop the way you shop best. If you do well with a friend, bring her along. If you're willing to trust the mirror and your own gut, go that route.

- Be patient, and take your time. Don't force yourself to like something just to get it over with. It's your money, and your body.

- Unless you want to look like high school was as good as it's going to get for you, I'd skip Hollister and the likes. Aim for stores that sell clothes you'd wear out with your parents.

- The number seriously doesn't matter. I tried on several sizes to varying successes. It's better to wear the right size than try to squeeze into a smaller number - you'll actually look worse!

- If it catches your eye, just try it on, even if it's not something you'd usually be into. You might surprise yourself!

It all worked out pretty well for me: I found a pair of dark, straight leg jeans and a pair of long jean shorts on sale. Not bad at all.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Giving Glory To You

Oh Lord, You're Beautiful 

Oh Lord, you're beautiful,
Your face is all I seek,
For when your eyes are on this child,
Your grace abounds to me.

Oh Lord, you're beautiful,
Your face is all I seek,
For when your eyes are on this child,
Your grace abounds to me.

I want to take your word and shine it all around.
But first help me to just, live it Lord.
And when I'm doing well, help me to never seek a crown.
For my reward is giving glory to you.

Oh Lord, please light the fire,
That once burned bright and clear.
Replace the lamp of my first love,
That burns with Holy fear.

I want to take your word and shine it all around.
But first help me to just, live it Lord.
And when I'm doing well, help me to never seek a crown.
For my reward is giving glory to you.

Oh Lord, you're beautiful,
Your face is all I seek,
For when your eyes are on this child,
Your grace abounds to me.
Oh Lord, you're beautiful,
Your face is all I seek,
For when your eyes are on this child,
Your grace abounds to me.

Thus says the Lord:
“Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom,
Let not the mighty man glory in his might,
Nor let the rich man glory in his riches;
 But let him who glories glory in this,
That he understands and knows Me,
That I am the Lord, exercising lovingkindness, judgment, and righteousness in the earth.
For in these I delight,” says the Lord.

Jeremiah 9:23-24 

I Choose You

With all my friends and family who are working on moving, this illustration came to mind:

In the sermon, "Bike Riding, Bartering, and Baking Cookies", by Banning Liebscher, he talks about being chosen. He says that God chooses people to be leaders and to stand for Christ in every generation. Banning talks about his desire to be chosen by God. He would pray and plead; he wanted to be one of the Lord's chosen.

He then cuts into an example. Moving is not fun. It's hard and a whole lot of work. So when you move, says Banning, you ask for help, and everyone is suspiciously busy when you need them. Only the chosen few will help.

How do you get chosen for Christ?

The same you get chosen to help move: you say yes.

Your friends will choose you to help them move, even if you have no talents or strengths or much of anything to offer. All you have to do is say yes.

When Jesus asks in Luke 9:23 for followers, He is giving us that chance to say yes. And by saying yes to Christ, we are chosen by Him to lead others in His ways.

Say yes.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Ode To Mothers

Anyone who has an amazing mother/is one will understand why this story captures the reasons mothers are absolutely incredible.

My mom worked today, while I was at graduation. I picked her up from work, and we were supposed to go do something for mother's day. But when we got home she started suggesting just ordering something in, as she was tired and she could see I was, and we ordered a pizza right away. We opened a bottle of peach wine she'd picked up this week and threw in some Gilmore Girls.

How is it that my mother knew that I hadn't slept or eaten? I was literally running on caffeine and determination. It was a nice mother's day, though probably not the celebration moms dream of. She did like the necklace though ;)

AND she froze Girl Scout cookies for me since cookie season happened while I was abroad. Rock on, mom.

Thanks For Holding My Hand

 "Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend" Albert Camus

Maggie Cress said something so simple and beautiful as we walked back to campus last night; "thanks for holding my hand" As we walked through the dark night on the empty streets, I was struck by the perfection of that statement, and the way it captures everything I most want to say about this weekend. 

On Thursday, I pulled off a grand surprise thanks to Maggie and Coach Bliese; I told the track team I was meeting them in De Pere on Friday morning, but showed up in Beloit Thursday instead. I met Maggie before my job interview at the YMCA (I'm employed!), caught up with my pastor's wife over lunch, and then the surprises began. 

I called Betsy from outside and kept it casual, until I told her to come down to the all. She ran down, one shoe falling off and we hugged. I went up to her room, and we caught up until she had a project to do. I volunteered to help and down we went. Double takes abounded, as did hugs, as one by one, people found out I was there. Surprising Eck was wonderful. It felt so good to be welcomed back with open arms. 

Conference was disappointing for many, and there were some rough moments for all. I was glad to be there in any way I could. Betsy asked me what was the biggest thing I learned from Senegal. 

Nit nitay garabam: a person is another person's remedy

We talked about how we'd been learning that lesson at the same time, nearly 5,000 miles apart, that it is ok, and even essential to rely on other people. God gifts us these people so that He might use them to touch our hearts. 

I was enjoying a coffee at Starbucks after a brief Bible study when Maggie's dad came up to me and said, "Kate, thank you for being such a good friend to Maggie. She loves you so much and you have played such a big role in her first year" I teared up. 

I sat with Betsy as we watched Miss Elizabeth Liztowne EJ Peckham graduate once and for all, and we met up just afterwards for a picture of the pole vault family ladies. Liztowne and I both hate goodbyes, and I didn't get a chance to say everything I wanted to, that having her as a friend these past years has been a tremendous blessing and pleasure, and that I am so excited to see where she goes next in life. I gave Maggie a tight hug goodbye, and off it was. 

Betsy walked me to my car, and as we made promises of visits this summer and said our goodbyes, I struggled to hold it all in. I got in my car and cried because of all that had happened in these relationships, and how precious they've all been to me. 

I remembered Maggie's words, as my fingers rested interlocked with hers, "thanks for holding my hand" Maggie, Liztowne, and Betsy, we have held each others' hands through so much and no matter the distance, the grip will not break. 

I still feel like I'm in a bit of a dreamland when it comes to being back in America. As I told Betsy, it's been uncomfortable for me, and having great friends and family has helped so much. 

Thank you girls for holding my hand. 

Thursday, May 10, 2012

He Is Here

I came home earlier this week. I'm going home this weekend, before coming back home for a bit until I move to my new home for the summer. Confusing to anyone?

It doesn't matter.

God promises that He will be here. Wherever we are, so He is. In Psalm 139, David asks where he could hide from the Presence, but he asks in vain. It is the impossible task.

We do not have to worry about the Lord finding us. We do not seek Him because He is lost form us, rather, we are not open to experiencing His glory. That's why He can promise that when we seek Him with all our hearts, we will find Him. Thanks to Christ, we have access to this Presence.

“What now does the divine immanence mean in direct Christian experience? It means simply that God is here. Wherever we are, God is here. There is no place, there can be no place, where He is not” 
AW Tozer 

Here Kari Jobe

Come and rest here 
Come and lay your burdens down 
Come and rest here 
There is refuge for you now 

Pre Chorus: 

You'll find His peace 
And know you're not alone anymore 
He is near 
You'll find His healing 
You're heart isn't shattered anymore 
He is here 


Breathe in 
Breathe out 
You will 
You will find Him here 


I will rest in You 


You will find Him 
You will find Him here 
You will find Him 
You will find Him here

And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart. Jeremiah 29:13