After these Months ....

It's actually been months since I've written here. Sorry about that, but I've had other things to attend to.

This has been a crazy semester. Academically it has been the most challenging I've known (though my grades were still good!). Friends and ministry have kept my spare time busy as well.

One day very near the end of the semester, I sat down in my dorm room and prayed through the semester.

Sadly, I had some regrets. I've been unthankful this year at school. I've had wrong attitudes and cared more about grades than godliness at times.

After the list of wrongs was finished and repented for, I started the list of my blessings. And was filled with gladness.

God has been so good to me this year. He has given me wonderful friends. My drama team worked together amazingly, and the team members were great friends I really needed this year. I've gotten to take some amazing hikes out into God's creation. And the list went on and on ...

Hopefully soon I'll be able to share more about what's going on in my life, but this is what I have to say today: God is good. He has blessed me immeasurably.

I Have To

I have to keep up with all my friends. Practice piano. Harp. Write on my blog. Write a book. Get straight A's. Know my life plans.

Do you have a similar list? The things you have to do to be good enough?

Honestly, I struggle with these goals over breaks from school. While I'm at college I have plenty to keep my busy, but when I come home I fight a strange war with the time on my hands. I want to rest from the semester, but I don't feel valuable when I'm not accomplishing things.

The truth of the matter? God loves me as His child, not for my accomplishments.

Why do I think everything else matters?

Perhaps the greater problem is not with what I'm doing or not doing, but where I'm focusing. So far, this break has been about me. Getting my rest so I can do second semester. Organizing my schedule. And even worrying about my goals.

It's time to focus on God. Especially now at Christmas. Whenever Christ was really born, He came!! It's time for me to remember how He came. And why.

I have to move past the lists of requirements I "have to" reach to matter.

And I need to come to a place of overflowing praise.

I Don't Deserve This

What was a time in your life when you've thought this? Maybe you got a poor grade on a school assignment and you knew you deserved better. Or perhaps a friend got angry with you for no reason. Or some authority in your life assigned you an extra task or maybe some extra blame.

So many times, it feels like we don't deserve what happens to us.

But hold on, before we start to pity ourselves too much, let's look at this another way.

"Giving thanks unto the Father which hath made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light: Who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son: In whom we have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins" (Colossians 1:12-14).

I read these verses today and came to grips with the fact that I don't deserve this. I don't deserve this redemption God has given me.

"But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. Much more then, being now justified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath through him. For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by his life" (Romans 5:8-10). 

Thanksgiving is coming up. This year, let's allow the awe of not deserving redemption but receiving it anyway bring us to our knees.




 

Why I Write

What makes you do what you do? Was there some trigger in your childhood? Or do you perhaps have a learned passion--something you didn't expect to like? Do you even know why you love what you do?

I've been writing since I was a child, but I couldn't tell you why I started. It happened. I wrote, and I never stopped.

Perhaps sometimes the real question is, regardless of why we begin something, why do we continue it?

Recently I was reminded of one of the reasons I write. In attempts to get more familiar with the contemporary YA market in Christian books, I started doing some reading on my Kindle. In the process, I ran across the book Tournaments, Cocoa, and One Wrong Move by Nancy Rue.

I didn't entirely agree with the way God's Word was treated in this book. In one place I thought the Bible translation/paraphrase being used was completely wrong as it almost inferred incorrectly that Christ wasn't God (though I have to believe it was an unintentional error).

But other than that ... this book was a take-your-breath-away-it's-so-real picture of a teen girl looking for what really matters in life. It struck a chord in me so strongly that it stayed on my mind even when I wasn't reading it. I felt at the end I had been on the main character's difficult journey, and I was moved to tears by a realization of the things that really matter in life, loving God and people.

That, my friends, is the goal for my writing. I don't want to write a book that just excites readers or gains me popularity. I want to write books that encourage today's teens to go to their knees before God and want more of Him.

So think about it. Why do you do what you do?

Signs

Lately, a small collection of 3x5 cards have appeared on my walls. By my desk, one's a quote, one has song lyrics, and the other has a list of my priorities. And under my mirror I have one with two words: Nothing Else.

Why? I'm tired of forgetting.

After the Israelites crossed Jordan, they set up a memorial of what the Lord had done.

"And he [Joshua] spake unto the children of Israel, saying, When your children shall ask their fathers in time to come, saying, What mean these stones? Then ye shall let your children know, saying, Israel came over this Jordan on dry land. For the LORD your God dried up the waters of Jordan from before you, until ye were passed over, as the LORD your God did to the Red sea, which he dried up from before us, until we were gone over: That all the people of the earth might know the hand of the LORD, that it is mighty: that ye might fear the LORD your God for ever" (Joshua 4:21-24).

God's been doing some great things in my life this semester, but as I'm often ungrateful and forgetful, I've taken the advice of friends and made a way for myself to remember.

Now each time I sit to study, I can remind myself of my priorities. When I look in the mirror I can remember that Nothing Else besides God can hold highest value in my heart.

What kind of reminders do you have in your life? Are you making a way to remember what God's teaching you?

Where Are You, Part Two

Here's the conclusion of the story from last Thursday.

I was back at the house at 8:00 the next morning when the call came. It had been obvious, but Dad still felt he should call me when the miscarriage was official.

I hung up the phone feeling guilty about everything. Not wanting a sibling, being behind in school, hating my job, rarely having time for friends, and being rude to Mom.

Jerking my shoes on, I ran down the stairs and out the door. I didn’t even know what to feel.

I hit the track and started flying.

What was wrong with my life? My parents were great, when it came down to it. I didn’t have to go to public school, I went to church, I had a decent paying job, and I was looking at going to college.

It’s not enough.

I screamed in frustration. “Why isn’t it enough?”

I closed my eyes, following the path by feel. “God, what’s wrong with me?”

The truth was that I hadn’t been content in a long time. I had covered it up, tried to push through, work it out, live on. It hadn’t worked though. I was sick of the schoolwork that piled up every day. I missed the days when I had made time to spend with friends. I missed the days when Mom and I had gotten along … oh, I missed them more than all the rest of it. And I hated going to sleep at night knowing the next day would be a re-run of the day before, an endless hamster wheel.

What was wrong?

Nothing and everything.

And now, my baby sibling was gone. I hadn’t expected it to hurt, but it did. Slowly, as I ran, I felt the pain begin to crush me. My feet faltered, and I slowed down. The weight I felt finally stopped me. Falling to my knees and then laying down in the grass, I started crying.

“God, what is wrong? Why am I never happy? Why do I hate my life?” My sadness melded with bitterness. “And why can’t I feel your presence? I thought You said You’d never leave me.”

The bitterness gave my legs strength, and I jumped up and took off screaming again. “Where are You, God?”

I ran faster. Now I didn’t feel anger and I didn’t feel sorrow; I didn’t feel anything but loneliness and frustration.  I looked up at the blue sky broken by clouds and hidden by treetops. “God … where are You?”

I tripped, falling into a pile of leaves. Silence. I realized this moment was quieter than any I had known recently.

 A voice spoke to my heart.

“Sydney … where are you?”

~~~ 

I grabbed the family Bible off of the coffee table and opened it in my lap. Genesis 1, Genesis 2 …. I skimmed the pages wildly. I knew the voice I had heard in my heart, and I knew it had said a very similar thing before, long ago. Near the beginning.

Genesis 3:9 read, “And the LORD God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where art thou?”

I looked at the page, trying to understand. What had He meant, asking me that?

I read the story. It had been a long time since I had done that. Adam and Eve had hidden from God after their sin. They didn’t want Him to find them.

Then God said, “Where art thou?”

Tears began to trickle down my cheeks. “Where art thou?”

 

God wasn’t missing.

 

I was.

 

I was the one who had been hiding, not finding time for Him. I had let school, work, frustration over the pregnancy, and frustration with my mom crowd out my God.

And that’s why I had been feeling so lost.

I sniffled and put the Bible back. Curling into a ball on the sofa, I whispered, “I’m here, God.

“And I’m sorry.”

~~~

I didn’t do so much running after that. It still felt good when I did, but I didn’t need it to think and I didn’t need it to feel something. Not anymore.

Because I'd finally stopped hiding. I was honest – respectfully honest – with my parents, letting them know what was really going on in my heart. I apologized to my mom for the way I’d treated her. I also worked harder on keeping my school under control, not letting myself hide from it like before.

The best part wasn’t that I stopped hiding, though. It was that I started seeking. Seeking my God again. It had been too long.

And it was better than ever.

Where Are You, Part 1

Today I decided to give you part one of a story I wrote some time ago. It is one of my older writings, but I hope you'll still enjoy it! Part 2 will come out on Tuesday.

Light exploded around me.

Forcing more strength from my legs, I pushed away from the old tunnel and into the sunshine. My route was almost done, but my legs still had more to give. I grinned as I whipped through the forest.

This run was a good idea. True, it was early, and true, I’d probably come close to being late for school, but I didn’t mind. A run always cleared my head.

It would be a good day.

~~~

I walked slowly into the house, cringing as the hinges squeaked on the screen door. Like I had expected, my mom awaited me at the kitchen table, her grade books around her.

"Where’ve you been, Sydney?" 

"Running." I didn't meet her eyes.

 "Is that a good reason for being 48 minutes late to school? And I am assuming you still need a shower, right?"

"No and yes." I wiped sweat from my forehead. "No, I shouldn’t have been late, and yes, I need a shower.”

She turned to the window, away from me. "Then I suggest you go take one and get to work as quickly as possible." She kept her voice down, probably trying to keep me from getting angry, which had been happening a lot lately. Life had just been… difficult. 

"Okay." I turned and hurried away, through the living room and up the stairs to my room. I had known it was a stupid idea to take those extra laps on my homemade track, but the running had felt amazing this morning. I could actually think clearly while I ran outside, away from school and friends and Mom’s unexpected pregnancy and everything that was going on. I rustled around in my drawers for a clean T-shirt. 

I wished real life was as peaceful as my morning runs. 

~~~

Halfway through the afternoon, I took a break from school. Being homeschooled had many advantages, but for me they were somewhat nullified by a mother who assigned schoolwork in bulk.

I hopped up from my desk and looked at my bookshelf. Gotta be a good read here somewhere. I glanced over the titles. Some I had read, most I hadn’t, but … oh, wait. My Bible was in the middle of the shelf. I hadn’t had time to touch it before running that morning.

I snatched it off the oak shelf and hoisted myself up onto my bed to read a bit. Psalms was usually my book of choice, mostly because it has a lot of short chapters, and today I flipped to Psalm 6.

"O LORD, rebuke me not in thine anger, neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure. Have mercy upon me, O LORD; for I am weak: O LORD, heal me; for my bones are vexed."

There were more verses, but I didn’t really feel the Psalm applying. I didn’t think the Lord was angry with me. Why would He be? I was a Christian.

Switching over to prayer, I said, "Dear Lord, thanks for this day. It’s really gorgeous outside. Thanks for helping with my schoolwork, and please help Dad at work…" One of my eyes peeked open, and I saw the title of an interesting-sounding book on my shelf. "Please help all the sick in the church. Amen."

Within a moment, I had escaped into the fresh pages of an unread book.

~~~

The phone rang shrilly above the sound of the TV in the next room. I glanced up at the handset in my room, trying to read the caller ID. It's Jessica. 

Tossing my science book off of my lap, I sprang up to answer the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Syd, what's up?"

"Nothing much, why?"

"I was wondering if you had time to come over and hang out. We're watching a movie tonight, and I was going to ask Shelby to come, too.'

"Sounds like fun." I looked at the clock. It wasn't even seven PM yet, but still, I had loads of schoolwork to do. "What movie?"

She named one of my favorites.

I looked down at the pile of books on the floor – history, English, literature, and the science book lying face down where I'd thrown it. "I don’t know. I’ll have to ask my mom."

"Oh. We can do it some other time if you need to."  She knew how things had been lately with my mom.

I frowned. I didn’t get many chances to see Jessica besides church. Didn’t I deserve a break?

"I’ll call you back, okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "Bye."

I tossed the phone on my bed and walked over to my parents’ room. Knocking barely louder than the TV, I waited for an invitation to come in.

"Syd?" my dad called.

"Yeah, can I talk to Mom?"

My mom opened the door. "What’s up, Sydney?"

"Can I could go to Jessica’s tonight? She’s inviting Shelby to come, and we were going to watch a movie."

Mom frowned slightly. "Didn’t I see you carry a big stack of schoolwork up here after supper? You can’t be getting further behind, Sydney."

I felt frustration creep in. I knew what I was doing. Really. "Mom, I know. But I want to go. I’ll make it up tomorrow." My tone was a bit south of respectful.

"Don’t talk to me that way."

"What’d I do?" But I knew.

She pursed her lips. "Fine, you can go. But tomorrow, you’re catching up. No matter what."

I felt a twinge of hesitation. Mom’s no matter what’s were serious. But now I really wanted to get away from everything. From my messed up life. From my newfound attitude problem I couldn’t seem to control. "Okay, then I’m going."

~~~

The next day I dragged myself to work after fighting through my mountain of homework. Flipping burgers was not my ideal job, but it was one of the only openings in Riley, the nearest town to my home. So I cooked burgers.

"Five juniors," my manager, Hannah, called from the front. I started slapping together sandwiches and then slid them into their racks, barely avoiding a collision with my friend Blake and a strainer full of hot fries.

Getting back to the grill, I stared at the spatula.

"So what’s up, Sydney?" Blake asked.

“Nothing. Nothing much.”

"How’s your mom doing with the pregnancy?"

“Fine.” Honestly, it was the last thing I wanted to talk about. After being an only child for so many years, the idea of a sibling was unsettling. In fact, the day she had announced her pregnancy was the day things had become strained between us.

"You don’t sound fine." He was pressing me, and he knew it.

"Seriously, I don’t want to talk about it."

"About what?"

"Everything! I don’t know." I paused for a moment. "I don’t even know what’s bothering me."

"Let’s go over the options." He smiled as he measured out another batch of fries. "Parents?"

I saw another order come up on the screens and started a new burger. "Not really. Mom and I have been a bit… off. But it’s my fault. I know that." My heart twinged. I knew that my problems were deeper than my attitude, even though I couldn’t identify them.

"School?"

I moaned, slapping a burger into a bun with more force than necessary. "I’m behind. As usual. I get up every morning thinking that I’ll have time for everything and there are plenty of hours in the day, and then I get to the evening and I realize that I’m out of time without getting everything done."

"Are you using your time well?" His voice held a tinge of a deeper question; I didn’t know what he meant.

"Not too well. But I’m kinda keeping up with school. I mean, things are working out."

"Sydney, I meant ... spiritually." Blake was a serious Christian, and I knew it. But I still wasn’t getting his point. "I mean have you--"

He was cut off by the phone ringing. The manager grabbed it, leaving the other girl in the front to handle the customers by herself. After a few quiet words, Hannah hung up and turned to me.

"Give me the spatula, Sydney. Your dad’s coming to get you."

I looked at the clock. 8:19 p.m. My shift ended at 9:30. "Why?"

She paused. "It’s your mom."

I ran to the parking lot.