Gratitude

Send some rain, would You send some rain?
'Cause the earth is dry and needs to drink again
And the sun is high and we are sinking in the shade

Would You send a cloud, thunder long and loud?
Let the sky grow black and send some mercy down
Surely You can see that we are thirsty and afraid

I have felt a large amount of overwhelmed in the last few months. I've traveled to Indiana and Montana, watched my grandmother begin recovering from a stroke and seen a new baby just days after his birth. I've watched the sun set over some of the bluest water and coolest mountains that I've seen, and I've experienced physical pain that I can't begin to describe. I've watched friends get engaged and married and seen new babies, and watched my other grandmother struggle to speak mere sentences so that we know she's still in there. I've begun counting the days until I leave my job and I've prayed fervently that God would provide Christopher with employment.

Perhaps it is all why the happy is so mixed in with the sad. Perhaps my latest grace-laden acquisition of discipline is keeping me in joy and perspective when everything is changing.

There are times when I pray that God would simply shock my system. I know that I am owed nothing and yet, day by day He pours forth grace when I know that all I deserve, sans Christ, is death and vengeance. I've been thirsty to know the Spirit's movement and afraid when I finally do. I feel I have lost a lot of who I have been in Christ, but yet I have not found Christ in lieu of my absence. I'm not quite sure what that means - I just know that it's there.

But maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case . . .

We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
For lessons learned in how to thirst for You
How to bless the very sun that warms our face
If You never send us rain

I so very often fail to give thanks for even the smallest blessings, like fresh water or the idea that I can sit down and read the Spirit-inspired words written on pages in a book that is banned in several countries and neutered in our own. I do not appreciate the fact that I am able to converse with others freely, without labored speech, or consume liquids without thickening them, as my grandmothers have had need to do. My thirst can be easily quenched, regardless of whether or not God ever gives me anything. He has given me all that I could ever need for life and godliness!

Daily bread, give us daily bread
Bless our bodies, keep our children fed
Fill our cups, then fill them up again tonight

Wrap us up and warm us through
Tucked away beneath our sturdy roofs
Let us slumber safe from danger's view this time

It is so simple to not realize the gift it is to have my husband next to me at night. We have a wonderful home and share it with good people. We sleep well. We have air conditioning! The Father in all His glory has no reason whatsoever to feed and protect us, and yet He does night after night, week after week, year after year. How dare I doubt that He has anything but good for us? But dare I assume that I understand what that good might look like?

Or maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case . . .

We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
A lesson learned to hunger after You
That a starry sky offers a better view if no roof is overhead
And if we never taste that bread

Because, you see, in my years I've seen kids who have been emotionally starved by their parents but who are given everything they could ever want and I've seen families with nothing in foreign countries who give what little they have away and who are the most joyful, content people I have ever known. I've known people to experience the common grace of God through the simple act of holding a newborn in their arms or through marrying their best friend and I've known others, believers, to die without explicable reason. If all we had was taken from us, would we still give thanks to the One who orchestrated the sun to set in such a brilliant display? Would we doubt His goodness if our lot was that of the rural woman in Guatemala, trying to feed her family with whatever can be found?

Oh, the differences that often are between
Everything we want and what we really need

Perhaps the world has messed with my head. Perhaps it is as they tell you in media studies, that everything can be interpreted either as a scheme to buy something or as a scheme to advance conformity/socialist tendencies. Regardless, I am more and more certain that the third perspective is the best one to hold - that there is no direct effect. It starts and ends in my head, with my heart. As downhere so deftly puts it, "the problem with the world is me." I do not understand what I truly have need for - I do not even process daily my need for a Savior!

So grant us peace, Jesus, grant us peace
Move our hearts to hear a single beat
Between alibis and enemies tonight

Or maybe not, not today
Peace might be another world away
And if that's the case . . .

We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
For lessons learned in how to trust in You
That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream
In abundance or in need
And if You never grant us peace

But Jesus, would You please . . .

If I never finish my tea tonight or if I never walk out of bed in the morning; if the world is suddenly dark and I never again see a friend smile or find joy in something simple; if I never have children or we fail to be able to pay our bills; if I find myself paralyzed in speech and with Christ as my only companion... Would I be content? Would Christ truly be my companion? Could I find joy in silence or peace in difficult circumstances? Would I understand that I still have all that I could ever need when all I could ever want is no longer there on top of it?

In the wisdom of Martin Smith, I pray that God would "save me, from the kingdom of comfort where I am king." The heavens are certainly aware of the despot who sits on that throne.

[[Nichole Nordeman, "Gratitude"]]

Compulsion

I'm not sure what compels me to post anything today, of all days. I haven't written for at least six months for various reasons that I won't go into now, and I was sporadic - at best - for the few years before that.

There's something that is beginning to compel me. And I do not know what it is.

Over the past year, I have struggled in trying to rediscover some of the things that I love, but that I have lost in the transition to 'adulthood' - the transition to working six-hour blocks of time instead of attending classes sporadically; to cleaning up not only after myself, but trying to serve my husband by doing the same for him; to having 'adult' relationships where previous friendships are maintained but not furthered; to feeling like I'm censoring myself.

Now, don't get me wrong. I count all things, even writing freely in such arenas as this blog, loss for the sake of Christ and for the purposes to which He has called me. 

But I fear I have lost all ability to be open with others about where I currently am in life. The arenas with which I am the most comfortable all seem to have been taken from me, and I have yet to adjust successfully. 

Which might be why, tonight, I have just written my first song since last fall. I fear there are a hundred songs rolling circles in my head that will never see any light whatsoever, for I never let myself focus on recording such things anymore - perhaps I need to let go all the connotation and dreams I associate with whatever music I might claim as 'my own'.

I am just a beggar who gives alms.

That line sticks with me these days. Who am I to even consider that my life should go where I want it to, instead of to where God has so meticulously planned every detail? 

But how can I know? How can I be sure that what God has for me isn't music or graduate school or book-writing or a hundred other things that I have dreamed of since I was 3 years old, standing at the window and singing hymns?

How my faith falters! 

But I have no other choice in this waiting game, and I know God will grow me in patience - apparently, He sees in my future a great need for it.

Regardless, I may begin posting here again more often; though I will certainly try to control my ranting and focus more on other things. Maybe I'll just start writing music again.

It would certainly be about time.

Listening to: "The Beggar Who Gives Alms" from downhere's Ending is Beginning

Reading: Ecclesiastes and The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova

***

Tonight

©Alyssa Kate Reynolds (April 27, 2009)

I wish I knew how this is meant to go together - 

how it shines with provision when the other side is found.

I wish I knew how this is to be processed by my heart - 

how to react to Your steady hand as I stand upon its ground.

But I guess this is where faith meets its feet -

I guess this is where I find that I need You.

I wish I knew what it is my heart is truly wanting - 

what it is it wants from this life and from its time.

I wish I knew what it is that is worth the minute’s ticking - 

what brings You the most praise, and what brings me less of mine.

But I guess this is where faith meets its feet - 

I guess this is where I find that I need You.

Can I rest in You tonight? In the place beneath Your wings,

can I carve away a little place and hide?

Can I rest in You tonight? In the throne-room, at your feet,

can I lay here and weep in the deep and wide?

And I guess this is where faith can’t be found on its own - 

I guess this is where I find that I am not alone!

In this beautiful hollow, beneath Your able wings - 

I know that I am safe here, in the presence of my King.

And I can rest in You tonight.

There are some days...

There are some days I feel like I fail at everything I even begin to attempt.

And those days, perhaps more than others, I thank God He sent Jesus.

Summertime Chaotic Peace

There have been many times over the past few months where I have found myself just sitting and thinking about my life - what it looks like, what it means, how desperately I wish I had power to change things that don't turn out well, and how incredible it is that I serve a God who hears my every anguished cry, who sees me weeping on the floor and who reads the very turmoil of my heart.

I feel as though I am awakening to new life with Christ all over again. I feel as though I am living as I ought to be living - seeking and even knowing His pleasure and His glory. Until the past week, I hadn't quite grasped the sweetness in the peace that comes from feeling that I make my Savior smile when I surrender my great love of music to His service. Until the past few months, I don't think I have truly understood what it meant to be pinned against the wall for what I believe, to be falsely accused, to have people I love not believe the words that come out of my mouth or refuse to hear them.

And yet, the past few months have been incredible. It is as though I have grown five years' worth in three months' time. God has preserved me in such incredible ways! 

It has certainly not been easy - nothing worth having ever is - and it has certainly carried with it a share of pain that I am not capable of bearing on my own. But my God is faithful! And my God is not a small God!

How incredible it is to realize anew the grandeur of this God! Not only is He capable of doing the little, commonplace things such as finding Christopher a parking spot on his way to class or getting me through a 5-hour practice when I'm extraordinarily exhausted, He is also capable of changing people's lives eternally. How often I pray to Him as though He is not able!

He is more than able! 

And it is my greatest comfort - that while I am face-down garnering carpet imprints, soaking the floor through with my tears and weeping, praying though I can gather no words - that the God I serve is more than able to read the very unutterable prayers of my deepest thoughts and know me so intimately that I don't even know myself as well; and that He is the same God here as He is in Mongolia, in China, in Austria, in South Africa! 

The same God! Loving people everywhere - desiring them to know life through Jesus Christ! 

I sense that this post is quickly deteriorating, so perhaps I will stop it here. 

Something that I keep chewing on - courtesy of Oswald Chambers - is the idea that we should not look at ourselves as being of use, but that we should remember that everything we are belongs to Him who made us and gave us life. He asks for total abandon. 

And, I do suppose, the question we must ask: If we don't feel useful, are we truly abandoned to Christ and His cause? 

It's just something I'm chewing on. 'Night.

Mood: Exhausted Listening to: The fan running in our front window

Reading: A Continual Feast by Jan Karon

in•som•ni•a |inˈsämnēə|

noun     habitual sleeplessness; inability to sleep

I had no idea the pain could be this strong

I had no idea the nights could last this long

In my darkest fears, the rights become the wrongs

I am still running; I am still running

Build me a home inside Your scars

Build me a home inside Your song

Build me a home inside Your open arms - 

the only place I ever will belong

[[Jon Foreman, "I Am Still Running" from Winter]]

The last few weeks have been somewhat brutal. I have redeveloped a level of insomnia that I haven't seen in myself for four years. Most of the evening is spent in various pursuits before I drag myself to bed thinking that I am finally ready, when I simply wake up all over again.

So many things have been happening... just one after the other. Christopher's bike was stolen; we had some family issues arise; I misplaced my wallet (which I have yet to find, still); my parents had to put down one of the puppies that they just got because he contracted Parvo virus; I worked almost full-time this week, which is crazy; we started up summer things with the Rock. Lots of changes. Lots of nights weeping as I sat awake into the strange hours of the morning. 

And, yet, while I know that God is still in control of all these things, I also know that it has been so easy for me to just want to be numb. There have been a few occasions where I cried out to God that I simply wanted to stop feeling. The emotions came and went, in severe degrees, and in such a multitude of shades that I don't think I really recognized them all.

I still haven't reconnected with everything, though. Part of me still so desperately wants to run away and hide until Christ comes to make everything right. 

But that's why the lyrics of this particular song have come to mean so much to me. Though I am numb and hurting, I am still running because Christ has rescued me and, for that, there is no other reason to truly live. I have no other home than in the scars that purchased my life for me, than the arms of the One that have forever been pursuing me to restore me to Himself. 

The pain is strong. The nights are long, especially as this insomnia has kicked into full force. My darkest fears have been brought to the surface, as so many things in my life seek to define what is truly 'right' as 'wrong'.

But I am still running, and I will continue to do so until my dying breath, because I know the One that will give it to me - and He will give me the strength to endure.

If you think of it, pray for us. We need to fully lean on Jesus and all He has promised.

Mood: Relaxed Reading: Old thoughts, song lyrics

Listening to: "Feel This" by Bethany Joy Galeotti and Enation