one of the best Christmas songs ever...

"Penguin, James Penguin" ~ Brad Paisley

seeing

I've been aware that I've been sort of a mess lately... and my every inclination has been to SIFT, figure out, come to grips, etc, etc... trying to be a little less "messy" than I currently feel. Only it doesn't really work that way, I'm finding out.

So I've been living life at mach speed... taking very little time to slow down. For one thing, I don't HAVE very much time to slow down, but sometimes, I like it that way... because it saves me from having to sit in my own messiness. But then, this week, there's moments when I can hear His whisper, "Beth, are you willing to sit in your messiness if you know that I'm there too?"

I remembered today that I'm not invited to approach the Throne of Grace only when the craziness inside of me is quiet. No... I'm invited to COME even when I've been doing everything in my own power to quiet myself... and it's not working. Shoot, I just remembered that verse in Zephaniah 3-- "HE will quiet you with His love." I need Jesus to quiet me... as only He can.

And then He astounds me. There's moments, even while I'm running at mach speed, when I swear that He just shows up anyhow... like when the fall night sky is so crisp and so clear and the stars are just shining and Orion's belt looks like a big Hand and I could swear that it's His hand reaching for me. That's happened 2 nights in a row now. Or when I get together with a good friend and spending time with her is like spending time with Him... and she reminds me, even without actually saying it, that nothing can take me from the love of Jesus. Or when I come to another friend's house to watch her dog for the weekend... and that dog is so soft and cuddly and GENTLE... like somehow Jesus knew that I would really enjoy a cuddly, gentle dog. And especially when I'm working on a horribly loooooong research paper and I realize that the timing falls perfectly for a visit to my parents. I hole up with my laptop on their couch, my mom makes Christmas cookies and my dad makes me coffee, and I watch the snow falling outside. I think Jesus is in that too.

On the one hand, I might sound silly for seeing Jesus in stars and dogs and coffee... but I guess it's just part of His goodness that He shows up in all kinds of ways... reminding me that He is the lifter of my head... and that He loves when I see Him... in whatever form He might come. He really is very good.

Happy thanksgiving, friends.

there's more...

there's more that rises in the morning than the sun

and more that shines in the night than just the moon

there's more than just this fire here that keeps me warm

and a shelter that is larger than this room.

there's a loyalty that's deeper than mere sentiment

and a music higher than the songs that i can sing.

the stuff of earth competes for the allegiance i owe only to the Giver of all good things.

if i stand, let me stand on the promise that You will pull me through.

but if i can't, let me fall on the grace that first brought me to You.

if i sing, let me sing for the joy that has born in me these songs.

and if i weep let it be as a man who is longing for his home.

there's more that dances on the prairie than the wind

and more that pulses in the ocean than the tide.

there's a love that is fiercer than the love between friends,

gentler than a mother when her baby's at her side.

there's a loyalty that's deeper than mere sentiment

and a music higher than the songs that i can sing.

the stuff of earth competes for the allegiance i owe only to the Giver of all good things.

if i stand, let me stand on the promise that You will pull me through

but if i can't, let me fall on the grace that first brought me to You.

if i sing, let me sing for the joy that has born in me these songs.

and if i weep, let it be as a man who is longing for his home.

~rich mullins

the real thing

this challenges my heart...

"Jesus said you are to love one another as I have loved you, a love that will possibly lead to the bloody, anguished gift of yourself; a love that forgives seventy times seven, that keeps no score of wrongdoing. Jesus said this, this love, is the one criterion, the sole norm, the standard of discipleship in the New Israel of God. He said you're going to be identified as His disciples, not because of your church-going, Bible-toting, or song-singing. No, you'll be identified as his by one sign only: the deep and delicate respect for one another, the cordial love impregnated with reverence for the sacred dimension of the human personality because of the mysterious substitution of Christ for the Christian.

"The question is not can we heal others? The question, the only question is, will we let the healing power of the risen Jesus flow through us to reach and touch others, so that they may dream and fight and bear and run?"

~Guess who?

Brennan Manning =)

wild.

I got in trouble this week... with my professor, of all things! Technically, we are allowed to miss two classes, but we are not really supposed to miss any. Well, I had a couple of days off last week, so I made the decision to miss a class in order to visit my sister in Arkansas. It wasn't an easy decision to make... I KNOW how important class is... but I decided that my sister is more important.

Of all things... this weeek's class focused on our mid-semester evaluations. When my turn came to be evaluated, I went into the room anxious to hear my professor's feedback about how I'm doing with my counseling skills. The feedback I received had more to do with my missing class than anything else. My professor was very kind to me and it really shouldn't have been that big of a deal, but I guess it was to me... because I found myself sitting in his office with tears rolling down my cheeks.

I've always been the "good girl..." the student with perfect attendance. If there's been a way in life to avoid getting into trouble and to ensure getting people's approval, I've usually taken it. This has left me with more of a restricted, rigid lifestyle than I would like to admit. I've been realizing something that's pretty profound too--this lifestyle robs personality. Every time I insist on squeezing into the straight jacket of having to be "good," I squish and squash the crazy life of Jesus that lives in me... because HE doesn't fit easily into any straight jackets! I'm finding that the closer that I get to Him, the more I come to hate the restriction that comes with having to be "good." He makes me want to be crazy, goofy, wild... "let go, girl," I often hear Him say.

But this is all new to me. The straight jacket is KNOWN. Wildness is not. In a strange way, the straight jacket feels safe. Wildness does not. Yet... these days, I'm finding myself being pulled from restriction and into wildness. So... I make the decision to miss class in order to visit my dear sister. I knew there might be consequences, but I hoped there wouldn't be.

So... I sat in my professor's office and cried... because as much as I may want to be a wild girl, I still find a lot of safety in being the good girl. And I didn't feel like the good girl on Monday night. But why was I good? Because I WANTED to be good, or because I NEEDED to be good? Shoot, if the goodness has more to do with wanting people's approval than anything else, the funny thing is that it's really NOT that good.

So... I drove home from class and found myself crying again... this time, great big sobs. I realized again that my eyes are being opened anew... and I am dying. The good girl and the people-pleaser is dying. It's a slow and painful death. I cry because it hurts to die... and I cry because I grieve the years that I traded in wildness for "goodness."

But the sobs were healing sobs too. Because in the middle of it all, there's the VOICE, the VOICE that just tells me that it's OK. It's OK... because He loves me... and NOTHING can change that--no amount of goodness or badness. He tells me that it's OK that I'm wild because He's wild. And I think I'm in for quite a ride because wildness cannot be tamed. I can no longer live a "tame" life. He tells me to embrace the wildness and to enjoy a great ride ahead. I hope I have the courage...

And all of this came out of getting in trouble with my professor for missing one class! I love how God takes small things and uses them to show us HUGE things. He's very faithful that way.

the next thing in love

"I've decided that if I had my life to live over again, I would not only climb more mountains, swim more rivers, and watch more sunsets; I wouldn't only jettison my hot water bottle, raincoat, umbrella, parachute, and raft; I would not only go barefoot earlier in the spring and stay out later in the fall; but I would devote not more more minute to monitoring my spiritual growth. No, not one.

"'The entire process (of self-development) can be very exciting and entertaining. But the problem is there's no end to it. The fantasy is that if one heads in the right direction and just works hard enough to learn new things and grows enough and gets actualized, one will be there. None of us is quite certain exactly where there is, but it obviously has something to do with resting.' (Gerald May)

"In retrospect, my ponderous ponderings on the purgative, illuminative, and unitive stages of my spiritual life, my assiduous search for shortcuts to holiness, my preoccupation with my spiritual pulse and my fasts, mortifications, and penances have wrought pseudobliss and the egregious delusion that I was securely esconced in the seventh mansion of spiritual perfection.

"What would I actually do if I had it to do all over again? Heeding the apostle John's counsel, I would simply do the next thing in love."

~Brennan Manning

left behind luggage...

I faced a small catastrophe today. After a wonderful visit with my sister in Arkansas, we arrived at her small town airport very early this morning. My flight was set to depart at 6:20am... we arrived at 5:55am... with the assurance that this was a very small airport-- meaning that I could easily get my boarding pass, check my luggage, get through security, reach my gate-- all with no problem.

Well... not quite. We arrived to find the ticket counter dark and empty. Something didn't seem right. Finally, a woman emerged from the back and told me that we were too late to check my baggage. I learned that I had two options-- either pay $150 for a new, later flight that may or may not have a seat for me... or get on my original 6:2o flight suitcase-less. And... I had to make the choice fast because the gate for the flight was closing in 4 mins! Alarmed, I quickly made the decision to bolt to my flight and leave my suitcase with my sister in Arkansas. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a skirt out of my suitcase and I ran to security. I don't even remember if I said good-bye to my sister.

I knew I was in trouble when I tried to clear security with my backpack still on my back. The lady looked at me and politely said, "I'm sorry, miss, but your backpack must go through the scanner OFF your back." Oh my word... I apologized and gave her an embarrassed smile. Then, to add to my embarrassment, I heard my name being shouted across the airport intercom-- "Paging Bethany Reamer, paging Bethany Reamer. Your gate is about to close." I rushed to the gate to find a mildly irritated woman waiting to take my boarding pass. Again, I mumbled an apology, tried to smile, and rushed on to the plane.

Once I got on the plane (I was last, by the way!) and found my seat, I tried to catch my breath and settle my thoughts. But I couldn't. I kept remembering shirts and shoes and necklaces and earrings in that suitcase that I needed. And I remembered my kind sister left standing there with my suitcase. Did I even hug her good-bye and tell her that I love her? I couldn't remember! I hated that thought most of all.

In the midst of all of my crazy thoughts, I felt a small cry coming up from my heart--"Jesus, I need You! Be near, O God." And then comes the faint whispers of that unexplainable peace.... He was there, right with me. I could finally begin to settle down.

And then I began to see the irony of the whole thing. For most of my life, I've veered pretty close to perfectionism... tending at times to be performance driven, calculated, and liking to be right. Well, I had to smile. Because... perfectionists generally aren't late for their flights. Perfectionists certainly don't try to walk through security with their backpack still on their back. Perfectionists don't run through airports while their name is blaring across the intercom. And perfectionists don't forget to say good-bye to their sister. But I did all of those things...

Ha... so much for perfectionism! Sitting in that airplane early this morning, I breathed a big sigh of relief when I remembered Jesus and His grace. With grace, there's room to make mistakes. With grace, I can smile and humbly thank the airline employee who still let me on the flight when she didn't have to. I can laugh at myself as I sheepishly remove the backpack from my back in the security line. I can call my sister from the next airport and tell her how much I love her. With grace, I can rest easy. I do not understand it, but I am loved. Sometimes, I wonder if it's in my most knuckle-headed moments that I can most clearly see the smile of God. I think so.

I continue to learn (the hard way, sometimes!) that the pressure's off. I continue to be blindsided at times by the beauty of God's grace, and I continue to be baffled by the fact that it's now mine, even though I so do not deserve it.

Jesus, please continue to blindside your people with Your grace... even if it comes in the form of almost-missed flights, left behind luggage, and other small catastrophes. Continue to teach us how to laugh at our own goofiness and to see Your smile through it all.