My Heart Breaks

Psalm 11:5
The LORD tests the righteous,
         But the wicked and the one who loves violence His soul hates.

Romans 12:17-21

"Repay no one evil for evil. Have regard for good things in the sight of all men. If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men. Beloved, do not avenge yourselves, butrather give place to wrath; for it is written, “Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,” says the Lord. Therefore


      “ If your enemy is hungry, feed him;
      If he is thirsty, give him a drink;
      For in so doing you will heap coals of fire on his head.”
   

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."

I feel like when God inspired Romans 12:21, he was thinking about how I would feel at this exact moment and what he'd need to say to calm me down.

The violence is awful.  The repaying of peaceful protest with brutality is horrible.  This is wrong, in every way.  Wrong.

I love that God is a God of peace, forgiveness, and love.  And at times like this, I really need that reminder to forgive.  To forgive those police, to love those who agree with this violence, to have mercy towards the media outlets that love showing this kind of news in other countries, but refuse to pay attention when it happens in their own country.

Peace.  Forgiveness.  Mercy.

Our God is a good God.  I couldn't be more glad to know Him, especially in hard times like this.

Reality Sinking In

This has been a week of reality in all its measures for me.

The joy of successful work, excitement about God, the treat of being among much of my college community, the homecoming of a housemate, new life.

The stomach pains, the stink of death around those close to me, the stresses upon stresses of work, the wearing-off of the novelty of this town, facing my beliefs through the end of the barrel of another's.

I feel as though I'm experiencing just about every aspect of life at once.  Life, death, family, community, loneliness, home, homesickness, healing, sickness.  All of it, all in it's complex-confused glory.

And then I read this great article on Relevant on the reality of our relationship about God.  Just as I've been thinking about ow complicated life is, ow life isn't just "good," and isn't just "bad," and it's certainly not "inbetween," this article hit home.  Here's the past that it me most:

"These ideas are not opposed and...they must be understood together. I must see myself as clay under the hand of an artist or I won’t approach God with the complete reverence He deserves. But I must also see myself as a child or I won’t enter into the safety of His love to receive the gifts He offers. I must see myself as a servant or I will not serve anyone but myself. But I must also see myself as a friend of God or I won’t trust Him. I must see myself as a sheep or I may refuse to follow. But I must also see myself as the bride or I will miss the celebration."


Leave it to God to make my life into an object lesson, and I praise Him for that.  Without it - this would feel like a terribly worthless week.  I am far from believing that He caused everything that's happening - but boy has he turned these circumstances into something beautiful.  Something that can make me understand.


Life is complex.  And ya, so is our relationship with God.  It's a mixed bag, it's the world we live in.


The complexity in life is not good, or bad, or inbetween.  It's just the reality.


Good thing the complexity of God is good, is beautiful, is far less confused, if not less confusing.

I can't remember why I don't live here?

My conference this week went well.  Really well, actually.  Everyone was where they were supposed to be when they were supposed to be there.  People seemed to like the training.  We got a lot done.  People bonded and left in a great mood.  I was overall very pleased, pretty happy.  Content, really.

And then I got to Isla Vista.  And I remember how much I love this place and these people.  How much it makes my heart happy just to be here.  How very, very happy I am to be here.

I know this is just a visit, and a short one - not exactly like living here.  I don't want my college life back, and I don't ever want to live in IV again.  But after just being here for a day, my hands are almost back to normal, I am not stressed out, and I am so happy.

I had pretty good reasons for leaving, but I really can't quite figure out what they were.

And it wouldn't exactly suck to live near here again.

Who knows where life will take me next?  Santa Barbara?  Modesto?  Bay Area?  Another state?  I'm not sure - but I'm so up for whatever is next :)

 It's so nice when the Holy Spirit makes it first nature to be loving at patient with people.  It really, really sucks to turn it back to that when it's not your first reaction.

This morning started off just fine.  Made myself an americano, got to work on time, and everything was good.

And then it exploded.

Question after question after question about the conference I'm planning.  People are mad, people are unhappy, and that's all I hear. Issues with just about every plan for the conference.  And everyone is stressed.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, I lost my patience.  I lost my cool.

I'm generally calm, pretty stoic.  God has blessed me with a lot of patience and peace, and I love it.

Where did it go?  In all of the bustle and frustration, I've lost it.  I lost my ability to be loving and patient.  Where is the Holy Spirit, nudging me to keep my cool and exude the fruits if a life turned to God?

And then I came home to a letter, on the fridge.  And it got worse.

I'm over it.  I'm so over it all.

And I've lost my ability to be patient and loving as a first response.  That's the worst part.

God: the Master Gardener

God is crazy creative.  I love how all of like is a parable that points us towards him.

When you add water to a seed in the right environment, in rich soil and in favorable weather, a beautiful things happens.

It grows. 

Carrots: one of my winter crops

 It grows a lot.

From a little thing, a little speck that could be lost in the dust, grows life.  Beautiful, green, life.  God infused it with whatever chemistry it needs to transform from a negligible capsule into a unique something.  A unique, complex creation that exudes life and breath.

It doesn't happen overnight.  Or even over a few nights.  It takes time.  Some plants take just a few weeks to mature, and some take months.

A big, bright zinnia, 4 months in the making

I love that Jesus describes faith as a seed that grows.  Granted, he doesn't go into detail about the plant after it takes root.  In this parable, he just talks about the environment the "seed" needs to grow: protection from temptation, from the tempter, and to be deep enough in the soil to get a solid foundation of roots.

But what then comes next?  It has to grow more if it will be any good, if it will produce fruit, flowers, or more seeds.

It has to fight of the pests that would like to eat it (like temptation, it will never go away).

My baby snow peas; they survived an attack by snails :)

It has to have the room to grow roots (weeds can so easily overshadow it, block it from the sun, steal its water and nutrients - like our worldly desires for power, sex, and money).

It has to be pruned so it will produce good fruits or flowers - taking out the dead, dying, and weak parts to allow the energy to go to the good parts.

This marigold plant is wasting its energy on all of those dead flowers, and this new bud - which usually takes just a few days to emerge - has taken weeks.

It has to fight of disease (weariness?), it has to get plenty of water and sun (like food - spiritual food in the Bible, teaching, and prayer), and it needs some good organic matter in the soil to give it the nutrients it needs (like we need a pick-me-up from the rest that God so brilliantly designed for us).

And did you know, some plants need others nearby to pollinate.  It's not incredibly likely that corn will pollinate itself.  Stalks of corn depend on the wind to blow its pollen onto another corn plant - which means the pollen needed to make the corn grow is often blown away from the baby ears of corn on the plant it originated from.  It has to be plants in blocks of rows because it relies on the other's pollen.  It's like community.

Okay, peppers don't need community.  But look at all of the cute peppers hanging out together :)

I have to say, I never thought I'd learn so much about God by gardening.  I swear, every day I go out to my garden, I feel like I finally "get" a parable or an image from the Bible or something new about who God is and the earth He created.

He's a pretty cool fella with very fun ways of getting his point across.

Running Youth

It's fleeing.

I last saw it 4 or so years ago.

4 years ago, I was confused.  My hand hurt.  Why did it hurt?  I hadn't knocked it, I hadn't bumped it.  Had I done something in my sleep?  Why was it so swollen and why did it hurt so bad?

Doctor 1 wasn't so sure.  Maybe it was a sprain?  I should see a specialist.

Specialist 1 wasn't so sure.  Wear a splint, he said.  Do some tests, he said.  Take it easy.

Then I got this weird back pain.  Bad back pain.  I-couldn't-move-without-crying back pain.

Doctor 2 wasn't so sure.  Take some Vicodin, he said.  And see the physical therapist.

I took the tests, I saw the right people.  No clues, no evidence.

More tests, Specialist 1 said.  An MRI, he said.  So I dragged myself to the lab with the big machine, and I laid there with my arm stretched way above my head for an hour or so.

Oh, that's funny.  "You should see Specialist 2," Specialist 1 said.

Specialist 2 was a nice man.  I liked specialist 2.  And he made things clear.

"Psoriatic arthritis."  Arthritis with the bonus of psoriasis.  I'd need treatment.  Serious treatment.

And that's when it ran away.

I had to switch to Specialist 3.  He was nice.  He was conservative.  And had terrible taste in art.

His treatments didn't work.

I went back to Specialist 2.  For a year or more.  His treatment was better.  His receptionist made me feel cared for.

His treatment makes me violently ill when I'm in the sun for more than 15 minutes.  But I wasn't in pain.

Then I moved, into a new town and into the offices of Doctor 3 and Specialist 4.

I don't trust Specialist 4.  But my options are few and I went anyhow.

He gave me shots.  Painful shots, shots that I made my medic-in-training friend administer to me, because I'm way to squeamish to do it myself.

And then I went to Specialist 5.  When my psoriasis was getting so bad that I wanted to rip my skin clear off my muscles, because I was pretty sure that would be less painful.

He dug a hole into my arm.  I don't know how deep the hole was, I didn't look.  But I smelled it.  I smelled the sweet-salty smell of my own flesh burning, when he had to close the wound from the biopsy.

"That's not psoriasis."

What?

"You don't have psoriasis."

Are you sure?

He was sure.  He was also pretty sure that I'm allergic to shellfish.  Or sharks.

How can you have psoriatic arthritis if my skin problems weren't psoriasis?  Why hadn't anyone ever done any tests like that before?  Why did they let me stay on supplement that I was allergic to, and never think twice about sending me to another doctor who might know more, if they were unsure?

What now, now that my diagnosis is unsure, and I don't trust a single one of my doctors?

I wish I didn't have to be a big girl all the time.

Bakebakebake

I love to bake.

My last house had a cramped kitchen, which made baking quite difficult.  My new home as a big, wonderful kitchen with a huge island.

Which means I've been baking :)

So far, I'm most proud of my peach cupcakes with Swiss Meringue Buttercream frosting I made to welcome my roommate Brianna back from her mission trip to India. I subbed 1/2 of the oil in the cupcakes with applesauce, and you couldn't tell at all.  And the frosting was from my Martha baking book, so of course that was a winner.

Yes, that is "welcome home" in some sloppy Hindi. :)