Grace

Oh, my struggle feels like a 4 ton elephant

Sitting in my small room with me

Taking up all the space

But I created that creature

Through my own worries and doubts

And in its place

The beauty of golden flowers, nodding gently

Reminding me even the smallest thing

Is filled with God's grace

For I am small, but filled am I
with God's grace so forgiving
And no condemnation to trace

For the mountains may depart

and the hills be removed,

but my steadfast love shall not depart

from you

and my covenant of peace shall not be

removed

says the Lord, who has compassion

on you.

Isaiah 54.10

Shadow of the Cross

This deep into Lent, the shadow of the cross falls over everything- a reminder that, even for God's most faithful one, there is no path around the darkness. Yet there lingers also the hope, the already-and-not-yet promise, that the days are surely coming when even the cross gives way to life.

-Richard Floyd

Jen and I were talking about darkness, and how it somehow creeps into our lives. Sometimes it is in the form of thoughts that make us think the worst, the negative, the dreadful. But we forget that Jesus went through such darkness when nobody (not even angels) intervened with Jesus' suffering and death. Jesus could have called on the angels, but then He would have given up His human-ness to relate to us. Sometimes we have to go through the darkness in order to get to the light.

As usual, when Jen and I talk about struggles, our conclusion brings us around to the heart of the matter. This time about the selfish nature we all have. The worldly thought is that people somehow belong to us (thinking he/she is mine), but that is not what the Bible tells us. We turn to Scripture for truth:

For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. (2 Corinthians 4.5-6)

We do not belong to people, but to God. 1 Corinthians 6.20 tells us that we are not our own. We were bought with a price. Jesus' death carried the weight of all our sins. Sins that would otherwise bring us to death. Our home is truly with Him and when we let that knowledge sink down deep into our souls, it is such a freeing feeling. For our loved ones that we have lost never belonged to us, but they are now home with God. Take comfort. 

More Fun with Photography

Whiteside Mountain, North Carolina. After a hike, we are rewarded with this view. The thing I love about this photograph is how we are above many clouds (at about 5,000 feet) and above other mountains, so you can see the shadows the clouds are casting on the mountains. The perspective makes you stare in wonder when you are up there.

Christ Church College, Oxford. It's like we stepped back in time in Oxford. The traditional post of the porter wearing the bowler hat was keeping watch of the doors. This is taken just inside the entry to the Chapel, looking back outside at the main quad of Christ Church College.

Ahhh lavender, you smell so nice. These are some twigs of dried lavender I bought in Old Town Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Not only do I love lavender as a scent or a little display on my nightstand, but have you ever had lavender short bread? Or lavender pound cake? It has got to be my absolute favourite.

Those big eyes and Liliana's early fondness of books makes this such a cute shot, especially with her mama smiling down at her. The angle is what I love; down at Liliana's level. Oh, this photograph makes me smile, and miss my good friend, Jen and baby Liliana.

Book Cravings

Okay, so I cannot really say I crave books, because my apartment is full of books. I have more books than I have square footage (alright, not really, but if that were the case, I'd be a-okay with that). But when I find that almost all the books I am reading (for I read 4-5 at the same time) are mostly re-readings, and when I realize I have not stepped foot in a bookstore in more than a month, I feel deprived. My day seems lackluster as I think about the options I have locally to get my book fix. The options simply don't exist.
So, what does a bookworm like me do in this dire situation? I go to the library.
What else was I to do? I needed to be among books. Even if I do not take them home with me.

Libraries (like bookstores) always bring me such joy, and a feeling of inadequacy. So much to read! So little time! All those pages of poetry, learning, stories, and foreign language is so immense. To be in the midst of all that knowledge! Even in a regular town library like this one, the shear number of books surrounding me is bliss. As I slowly wandered the aisles, pulling off books of British poetry, the Blue Ridge Mountains, Shakespeare, and C.S. Lewis, it kindled my always constant desire to visit some of the amazing libraries around the world. 

A few months ago I stumbled on this website, where someone created a list of the 35 Most Amazing Libraries in the World. Check it out. Currently, I have been to 4 of these libraries on the list, which means I have a lot of traveling to do. Can you guess which libraries I have been to?

That Which I Possess

Clearly, this isn't mine

That which I possess

It may feel like it is owned

In this I do regress

For not only is this Yours

But I give it all to You

Realizing in my hands

The purpose won't bleed through

Take comfort in the knowing

We're given a perfect time

Of fullness and joy, leaving

With nothing tagged as 'mine'

Against the Wind

If they give you lined paper, write the other way. -William Carlos Williams

Is it strange that I prefer to run against the wind? It is kind of like going against the grain, which I tend to do in most other areas. There is something about the wind hitting my face, the whoosh by my ears, and invisible forces crashing against me that keeps me motivated to keep going. I think there is a slight illusion that I am running faster, even though in reality I am probably slower. I am, however, working a little bit harder, putting up a fight with the direction the wind wants me to go. (Not to mention it keeps me cool, as the weather this year has decided to skip Spring altogether and jump right into early Summer.)

I am going against you, wind.
And while I am at it, world, I am going against you too. You and all your flashy, cultural lies, and a milieu that fosters immoral behavior and admonishes those who make the biggest splash, have the most possessions, or the prettiest face. Who decides what/who is popular anyway?
You don't value the moral, the good, the true. You tell us that we belong here in the world and we need to find our place in it. We should never find our place in it because we are only visitors here. We belong to God, in heaven, and those who do find their place in this world forfeit their true home. Satan grins when people feel as if they fit in quite nicely with the world because they grow into an ease and comfort that shuts them into complacency. Then they lose sight of the eternal.

Read this part of Screwtape's letter to his nephew, teaching him how to be a successful devil:

Prosperity knits a man to the World. He feels that he is 'finding his place in it,' while really it is finding its place in him. His increasing reputation, his widening circle of acquaintances, his sense of importance, the growing pressure of absorbing and agreeable work, build up in him a sense of being really at home in earth, which is just what we want. (The Screwtape Letters, C. S. Lewis)

So when I run against the wind I suppose my thoughts run faster than the wind concluding that I am going against the grain of the world. And that's how I like it.

Many Firsts

Weekend Recap: 12 Hours of Sebring Race
I have been to the Sebring race many times. We go on Friday and Saturday. Friday we get to hang out in the BMW garage watching the mechanics work on the two race cars, and the drivers come out and talk with us. We also get to drive a couple laps on the track later in the day. Saturday is the 12 hour race, which is an experience on its own.

It is my family's version of a good time for all. And I must admit, even my bookish self really enjoys these events. This car thing. It is kind of in my blood. I can't help it.
Even better when I get to experience some things for the first time. Let's list out some of my firsts this year:

0. First time a bird has flown into my car. As we left early Friday morning, a bird took off and smacked right into my passenger window. Gladly everything was okay. What can you do except laugh hysterically at that point?
1. First time seeing a live pit stop from behind the pits, watching them change drivers, tires, gas, &c.
2. First time being at the race after dark
3. First time seeing the glowing/sparking brakes (since you can only see that at night)
4. First time talking to a BMW driver (heard them talk last year, but didn't talk to any)
5. First photo with a race car driver, Joey Hand (who ended up winning the GT class!)
6. First time walking the grid (they line up the cars along the start and the drivers stand out there just before the race begins), so it was my first time walking on the track at all
7. First time seeing a well-known celebrity at the track (Patrick Dempsey)
8. First time eating a bag of boiled peanuts
9. First time napping at a race track (we had a little siesta under the corral tent)
10. First time hearing a tire fly off a race car and zoom down the track, right by the corral tent (you never know what could happen at such high speeds)

Erosion

Kilt Rock- Isle of Skye, Scotland

The day became dark as the emotions
Swirled around me
Like the gusty winds that have scattered the petals
And leaves off trees
Were the flaming arrows being shot in the air?
Will they hit?
This day is fragile; with moments
You won't see again
That's just it
We get caught in the maelstrom
Raw from the wind
Eroding away
While beautiful moments lose their chance
As we begin
A path so swayed
Contemplate the measure by which
You choose to weigh your toil
And turn your eyes
Upon our heavenly Royal

Know Me

Alnwick, England

I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father, and I lay down my life for the sheep. And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So, there will be one flock, one shepherd.
-John 10.14-16

Only those people closest to me really know me. It is those people who know my passions, gifts, and dreams, and who love that I am exactly who I am meant to be. They are those who listen to my stories and offer me their honest opinions. They don't hold back their stories from me and it becomes a shared knowing. It includes those who encourage me to follow my dreams and remind me that God works in mysterious ways and it is okay to live among all those mysteries and questions. Amidst busy schedules and so much to attend to, they still make time for me.

It makes me joyful to be known by these people. I don't feel like I have to fake a smile or act like I am all put together when I may feel like I am crumbling. And I can always be myself.

Isn't it amazing that Jesus is one of those people? In John 10.14-16 Jesus says that He knows us and we know Him, if we are His own. To be known is deep. It's not a casual acquaintance. It is intimate. There are matters of the heart that I choose to tell certain people; things that I do not want broadcast to everyone who can hear.

Jesus calls Himself the good shepherd because a good shepherd would lay his life down for his sheep, and Jesus did that for us, His sheep. One doesn't lay down their life for something they only mildly like. It is going to be a deep love that provokes it.
A gift undeserved.
His love abounds.

Waiting

I was waiting for the sun to rise
In this dark room

The questions grow like giants

Full of lonely gloom

I was waiting for the fears to halt

Inside my mind

They block the joy and inspiration

I seek to find

I am waiting for my Savior now

He again will come

He is the light -my source of joy

And thy will be done

Doubt Wisely

To come to a doubt, and to a debatement of any religious duty, is the voice of God in our conscience: would you know the truth? Doubt, and then you will inquire.
-John Donne

Lately, those thoughts have been creeping into my heart. You know, the ones that start to whisper lies that begin to sound like your own voice. That your situation will never improve. Or that your dream will never happen. Or that your talent is not good enough and nobody wants you. Does that ever happen to you?

It becomes a breeding ground for doubt, and I think we are all hit with it every now and then. But it is what we do with that doubt which matters greatly. If we take that doubt and let it lead us away from God's truth, we stray onto the slippery slope and Satan is cheering. But I don't want him to cheer.

If we direct our doubt toward God, and take it up with Him, our inquiry actually brings us nearer to God. This is the wise doubting; where our eyes may have been closed, God can help us see again. Sometimes it takes going through a little storm (though it may feel like a hurricane) to see the promises that were there all along.

The weather report: storms throughout the week, fog, intermittent showers, and some sun. In short, we could expect a bit of everything and nothing predictable. Ancient Mariner weather, I thought. Rainbow weather too.
-Carolyn Weber

Running

A cluster of thoughts linger

The train rumbles over the ground

And as I run tonight

It joins the cacophony of sound

The wind whistles, hitting my skin

My breathing keeps my pace

That I am capable of running

Is not by my own grace

My sneakers hit the sidewalk

And I grin

Bouncing back upstairs I am eager

To go again

Fun with Photography

I love photography. Especially taking pictures of everyday things at an angle that isn't what you might normally see. This photo shows a rugged texture on a barn in Maine. Since I am in the shadow of the barn, the colors are muted, but I think it works perfectly to show the interesting layered-ness of the barn. Direct sun might have washed it out.

This is what the inside of my piano looks like. It's not what I think about when I am sitting down at my piano playing a nocturne. But the pieces are lined up and tuned (hopefully). These intricate pieces fuse together to play the notes my fingers press. When taking photos, I almost never use a flash. Natural light captures the best scenes, I think, and I like how in this photo, the light from my sliding glass doors is casting a warm glow on the wood and metal pieces of my piano.

This was taken somewhere in Scotland, on the way to Glencoe and the Isle of Skye. This isn't the best photo to blow up into a poster, but I love it because it shows the landscape in perspective to me in the little Seat we rented to drive around Scotland. I love the landscape here, with weather that changes every few minutes. This thick cloud covers the mountain peak with such drama, it demands a picture to be taken. As we drove away, the cloud had cleared away.

In Newcastle, England one of the many bridges is the Tyne Bridge, which happens to be an exact replica of the Sydney Harbor Bridge in Australia, only smaller scale. It's a beautiful bridge, but the same picture can be taken of it over and over as you walk over the river Tyne. I love this perspective and angle of the bridge because it looks like it is connecting these two buildings. It's so interesting. It showcases the bridge, while incorporating the Newcastle buildings I grew so familiar with and fond of.

When my friend Emily made this fresh bread when I was visiting her in Maine, it was not only screaming to be eaten, but it was begging to be photographed. As the bread cooled and my mouth watered, I took this shot. The trick with taking photos of food is to capture an interesting focus. Here, I changed the focus point to be the closest spot, thereby blurring the background, which adds the depth to make it more interesting.

My camera is an Olympus PEN E-PL1 and I love it! It's not one of the high-end DSLRs, but it shoots high-quality photos fast, it's small, easy to use, and it's got a cool retro vintage look that I like. I really enjoy getting to share my photos on this blog, and I hope everyone has enjoyed my photos too! More to come!

One of Those Days

Glencoe, Scotland

It is one of those days where I feel like going for a long walk, in nature, away from traffic and people. To walk with a someone in some fresh air and breathe deeply. I guess I want a change of scenery and good conversation about anything and everything. And silence. Crisp air that requires me to wear a jacket, scarf, and boots. Walking through grass, dirt, leaves. No pavement out here.

A place where the depths of the heart are reached. Sometimes it takes getting away from the commotion of the everyday to truly hear what your heart is telling you. Nature can keep secrets. The trees won't tell.
I can share my secret dream of __________. (Well, I can't tell you unless you're the one walking with me.)

I regularly daydream about colder weather. It is like a wild child that I can't quite contain here. A day or two of bliss, and then it runs away from me. Doesn't life do that to us sometimes?

Some things take more time than we want. Some things don't take long enough. Whatever the case may be, faith, prayer, and hope are essential ingredients to keep all along, and following Christ's example.

So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind.
-Philippians 2.1-2

My Toy Car and a Yard Sale

Write the bad things done to you in sand, but write the good things that happen to you on a piece of marble. -Arabic Proverb

We had a yard sale this weekend. We started early, but not early enough, as people started pulling up to our driveway as we were still bringing out the items to sell. We had signs ready to put out on the main roads to direct them to our sale, but we didn't even need to put them up! There were several other sales in the neighborhood and people kept coming. Hosting a yard sale is such fun. It's an easy way to get rid of some things you never use, make a little bit of cash, and (best of all) meet some interesting people. Tyler cleared out a whole shelf of model cars in his closet for the sale. He pulled this little BMW matchbox car out of the box and gave it to me because it's my car! Okay, minus the color, the tires, and that it has two-doors. Whatever; it's my new toy.

First thing in the morning, three people were browsing when suddenly Jason approached one of the men and asked him in Creole if he was Haitian (Eskou se ayisyen?). The man looked amazed and said yes, then started to speak to him in Haitian Creole. Jason understood him and they stood there carrying on a conversation. The man's wife looked over and smiled. It was such an awesome moment to witness and I couldn't stop smiling. Jason explained in Creole that he learned the language through church, and the man gave him a big hug and called him his brother. Jason explained later that when we (Americans) try to speak using Haitian Creole, they are always so gracious for our efforts, and this man definitely was.
These few minutes were my favorite part of the day. It was just pure joy to see total strangers brought together by way of Jason knowing and speaking Creole and expressing to the man that he speaks it a little bit (tu piti) by the grace of God (a gras a dieu). It opened up this beautiful moment.

Later, Mom met people visiting from Vermont who were from the area of her hometown in New York. Then, there's a guy who has lived on Casey Key for more than 20 years, and had stories about how he liked to talk to the rich and famous who live out there and be a little mischievous. He mentioned the doctor who invented the stint and how he is a nice guy, and my mom then mentioned Steven King, one of Casey Key's famous residents, and the man said, "Oh, he's a treat, " with a heavy sarcastic tone.

Then there was the guy who rolled in on an Italian scooter, and immediately bought a short shelf, with 2 levels, and had strong views on religion and began a "debate" with Jason and me. He had trouble trusting that the Scriptures are true and accurate, and people he has met along his travels seem to give him the impression that Christians exclude people if they have different beliefs. Jason and I tried to focus on the point that Christ died for all, and it is up to each person to receive the gift that God offers. He seemed to follow the Hindu beliefs but seemed open for learning. After a while, he loaded the shelf onto his scooter, bungee-corded it, and drove off with ease.

Wisdom from a Rock Band

In the end...you will look back and know that you took the risk, you stepped out in faith. And you know what? You actually did something that mattered, even if it was only to a few people.

-Andrew Schwab

A week or two ago, I finished reading a book I have on loan called It's All Downhill From Here by Andrew Schwab, who is the lead singer of Project 86. I finished reading it while sitting in Black 'n Brew coffee shop drinking a vanilla soy latte. I was sad to end the book, for it had been my entertainment each day on my lunch break. Every time I read it, I found myself chuckling out loud at the humorous stories. People around me probably thought I was a little crazy. Normally I take a walk down to the lake to read, but on this day, it looked like it was going to rain at any moment. The grayness hovered, prepped for drizzle, and sure enough it started raining as I walked back to the office.

For a rock band guy, Andrew has very thoughtful insight and his stories expose his good morals. He is a talented writer, with a particular forte for storytelling. Being able to tell stories well (and in an interesting way) is really tough, so I admire someone who keeps me on the edge of my seat. I keep reading because I want to know what happens next! He writes about his crazy band mates and their life on the road. It seemed like misfortune followed them, including many encounters with police and random people along the way. But in a frustrating situation, where items were stolen from Andrew and he caught the culprit and was given the chance to press charges, this is what he wrote:

Then I hear that same voice in my head...you know, the one that reminds you of all the shady, dishonest things in your own heart? No, not now. Go away. I don't need to hear any of that right now. I seriously just want to let my anger well up in me. I want to bathe in it. No. That voice keeps reminding me that I am no better. That mercy triumphs over judgement.  

How many of us would do that? Showing mercy when someone commits an offense against us? But isn't that a way of loving thy neighbor, even when they are unlovable?

He has a way of writing that is honest and open, with many pieces of crazy mixed in (just think about the possibilities of a rock band traveling together- all boys). Nobody is perfect, and he shared his imperfections but he also showed how sometimes it's through those imperfections that we truly experience something that changes us for the better. It shakes us awake to live for God, rather than dozing off in our own complacency. A reminder that our talents are to be used for good, even if it only touches a few people (I think they have touched more than a few people, though).