I just realized how incorrect my blog title is recently. I haven't blogged about Jesus recently. I haven't blogged about following Him either. I wonder if that is indicative of my life right now. It probably is.
I have to be honest (and being honest on the internet is no small feat) and confess that I struggle. I am struggling. I feel like my walk with Christ is one step forward, two steps back. I know that the step forward is only because of HIS work in me and nothing to do with my own strength...but the two steps back is just the opposite. I try to build myself up, work harder, be better by myself and all that happens is I find myself further from God. The point is, a lot of the time I find myself running full force away from God. Or trying to at least
WHAT??? That's not what a good christian is supposed to say. That's not what a good christian is supposed to do.
I'm not a good christian. I am a sinner.
It is only by the grace of God that I am not allowed to run. No matter how hard I try He reigns me in, turns me to face Him, shows me His love and the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. It is out of this that anything I do can be considered good - fruit of the Holy Spirit that resides in me.
It's not easy following Jesus. But it's not impossible with Christ. And it's not something I can stop doing. It is my life's work to follow Him but it's also my life's joy to follow Him - for He is the creator of both work and joy.
So what does this mean? I devote myself again and again to His will. I pray for Him to be present in my life. I listen for the Spirit within me. And even when I fail to do all of these things well, He takes heart and shepherds me home anyway.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Back at it...
So after a few weeks of a break...I am back to running. I know what you're thinking...you just started and you already took a break?
*hangs head in shame*
Yes. I stopped running for a while. I skipped a day to study for an exam. Then I bowed out the next day telling myself I wanted to stay on my every other day schedule. But then it all fell to pieces. My "do it tomorrow" lost all chances of happening. I got busy and my motivation went out the window.
This is upsetting because I really do want to get into it.
I dragged my butt through the slump and now I hope I'm seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm afraid my car has logged more miles than my tennis shoes with the amount of driving I'm doing over the break BUT I think I'm going to get my rhythm back soon.
I got a new ipod armband and Nike+ sensor to run with. It's been fun to play with and track my run today. I think it will keep me motivated as I get back into it. Being able to see the stats afterwards is entertaining, for sure! Maybe I'll be able to at a run log on my sidebar. You guys can cheer me on as I sluggishly drag my butt around my neighborhood. Or not. Whichever.
*hangs head in shame*
Yes. I stopped running for a while. I skipped a day to study for an exam. Then I bowed out the next day telling myself I wanted to stay on my every other day schedule. But then it all fell to pieces. My "do it tomorrow" lost all chances of happening. I got busy and my motivation went out the window.
This is upsetting because I really do want to get into it.
I dragged my butt through the slump and now I hope I'm seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm afraid my car has logged more miles than my tennis shoes with the amount of driving I'm doing over the break BUT I think I'm going to get my rhythm back soon.
I got a new ipod armband and Nike+ sensor to run with. It's been fun to play with and track my run today. I think it will keep me motivated as I get back into it. Being able to see the stats afterwards is entertaining, for sure! Maybe I'll be able to at a run log on my sidebar. You guys can cheer me on as I sluggishly drag my butt around my neighborhood. Or not. Whichever.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Cats and Christmas presents
I have a cat. Her name is Fluffy. I got her as an 8th birthday present from my parents. She's a fairly ordinary cat who likes to sleep a lot, be let in or out every half an hour, and generally is a nuisance to everyone in the family. I love her.
Since I moved away to school she has had my whole bedroom to herself. Can you picture a cat curled up on a pillow of a full bed? Yep, that's her. When I'm home from school she loves it - I don't think my parents give her much attention - she follows me around the house. But when it comes time to sleep we've got problems! She sleeps in my spot. She may be the queen of my bedroom in my absence but I'm not giving up MY side of the bed for my CAT! I gently nudge her over and lay down. In 0.5 seconds I have a wiggling fur ball laying on my chest. I pet her as I doze off. I usually sleep on my side though so I eventually role over and she grumpilly takes the other side of the bed...usually after batting me in the face a few times first.
Anyway, that's not the point of the story. I had the grand idea of embroidering my mother's Christmas gift. I was sitting on my bed trying to thread the needle without much luck. I see my cat eyeing the bright red thread but I figure she's too lazy to play. I get back to focusing and the next thing I know I have a cat pouncing on my with all claws deployed. OUCH! I shooed her off of the string but she stayed sitting in my lap. Bad idea. Everytime I made a stitch she'd grab the other end. It was a game to her. I got sooo frustrated that I gave up for the night. Problem is, she did it again the next night - Christmas eve. It had to get done that night. I kicked her out of my room and she sat at the door yowling until I finished. She ignored me for a bit but then realized I have hands to pet her with. I'm not sure if that means I'm forgiven but I'll accept it.
I guess thats what happens when you try to mix Christmas presents with ornery cats. I've learned my lesson.
Since I moved away to school she has had my whole bedroom to herself. Can you picture a cat curled up on a pillow of a full bed? Yep, that's her. When I'm home from school she loves it - I don't think my parents give her much attention - she follows me around the house. But when it comes time to sleep we've got problems! She sleeps in my spot. She may be the queen of my bedroom in my absence but I'm not giving up MY side of the bed for my CAT! I gently nudge her over and lay down. In 0.5 seconds I have a wiggling fur ball laying on my chest. I pet her as I doze off. I usually sleep on my side though so I eventually role over and she grumpilly takes the other side of the bed...usually after batting me in the face a few times first.
Anyway, that's not the point of the story. I had the grand idea of embroidering my mother's Christmas gift. I was sitting on my bed trying to thread the needle without much luck. I see my cat eyeing the bright red thread but I figure she's too lazy to play. I get back to focusing and the next thing I know I have a cat pouncing on my with all claws deployed. OUCH! I shooed her off of the string but she stayed sitting in my lap. Bad idea. Everytime I made a stitch she'd grab the other end. It was a game to her. I got sooo frustrated that I gave up for the night. Problem is, she did it again the next night - Christmas eve. It had to get done that night. I kicked her out of my room and she sat at the door yowling until I finished. She ignored me for a bit but then realized I have hands to pet her with. I'm not sure if that means I'm forgiven but I'll accept it.
I guess thats what happens when you try to mix Christmas presents with ornery cats. I've learned my lesson.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Fighting through dust and cobwebs
Hey everyone (those that have stuck around, that is...)!
I have no clue what I'm going to write about but I'm going to start with an apology. I'm sorry to my readers for leaving you hanging. For a while I was truly busy - wrapping up the semester, studying for and taking finals, and trying to sort out the life that awaits me only a mere semester away. However I can't create excuses. After a while I was in a full blown bloggy slump. How was I supposed to come back after almost a full month of absense with witty words, deep thoughts, and legitimate reasons for temporarily abandoning my blog?
I treasure the fact that even a handful of people decide to take the time to read the thoughts, feelings, and even the nonsensicle ramblings in my blog. While blogging isn't a priority or "calling" in my life I truly enjoy sharing my two cents and letting the words of my heart enter the big bad world of the internet. So sorry...and thank you to those of you who stuck around!
I'm not going to summarize all that has happened this past month. It's too much of a whirlwind. I'll spare you. However, I will say that there is a small island only a few hundred miles from where I live that has a story to share. There are two countries that share this island, small though it may be. I'll give you a hint, the eastern country is the Dominican Republic. On the west end of the island, though, is a smaller country nestled in the bright aqua blue colors of the Carribbean. A tropical paridise.
Look up and all around and you'll see mountains beyond mountains.You'll see some greens and browns and you'll likely catch a few glimpses of reds and organges as trucks and busses fly by. Unable to take it all in by sight, you breathe in deeply. It smells of salty air, new and delightful spices, and a pinch of sweat. You start to smile and open your ears to listen. You hear a rapidly spoken language, neighbors greeting eachother and mothers calling to their children. You can't understand it but it's beautiful. There are children singing from down the street. You've never heard the tune before but the melody is greeting you like an old friend. You shake hands with an old man with greying hair and sun wrinkled skin. His wise eyes and toughened hands pull you deeper still.
Without language he tells you the story of his country. His eyes have seen pain, suffering, and death. His body shows the wear of hunger and malnutrition. His hands are rough from countless years of working in his garden. The green and brown mountains are his home, out of which he coaxes what little crops he has to grow. The sea, to him, is not blue and beautiful, it is where he catches tiny fish when he can't harvest his garden. The orange and blue trucks are not blurs of beautify - they are machines that take his money, bang him around, and hopefully drop him off at the market to sell and buy what little he can. In a span of seconds this old man shows you that this is not paradise to him. Rather, paradise is waiting for him in Heaven. He knows God and accepts Jesus as his savior. He has hope to one day be freed from the oppression he has faced in paradise.
That, to me, is greater than any sight, smell, or sound.
I have no clue what I'm going to write about but I'm going to start with an apology. I'm sorry to my readers for leaving you hanging. For a while I was truly busy - wrapping up the semester, studying for and taking finals, and trying to sort out the life that awaits me only a mere semester away. However I can't create excuses. After a while I was in a full blown bloggy slump. How was I supposed to come back after almost a full month of absense with witty words, deep thoughts, and legitimate reasons for temporarily abandoning my blog?
I treasure the fact that even a handful of people decide to take the time to read the thoughts, feelings, and even the nonsensicle ramblings in my blog. While blogging isn't a priority or "calling" in my life I truly enjoy sharing my two cents and letting the words of my heart enter the big bad world of the internet. So sorry...and thank you to those of you who stuck around!
I'm not going to summarize all that has happened this past month. It's too much of a whirlwind. I'll spare you. However, I will say that there is a small island only a few hundred miles from where I live that has a story to share. There are two countries that share this island, small though it may be. I'll give you a hint, the eastern country is the Dominican Republic. On the west end of the island, though, is a smaller country nestled in the bright aqua blue colors of the Carribbean. A tropical paridise.
Look up and all around and you'll see mountains beyond mountains.You'll see some greens and browns and you'll likely catch a few glimpses of reds and organges as trucks and busses fly by. Unable to take it all in by sight, you breathe in deeply. It smells of salty air, new and delightful spices, and a pinch of sweat. You start to smile and open your ears to listen. You hear a rapidly spoken language, neighbors greeting eachother and mothers calling to their children. You can't understand it but it's beautiful. There are children singing from down the street. You've never heard the tune before but the melody is greeting you like an old friend. You shake hands with an old man with greying hair and sun wrinkled skin. His wise eyes and toughened hands pull you deeper still.
Without language he tells you the story of his country. His eyes have seen pain, suffering, and death. His body shows the wear of hunger and malnutrition. His hands are rough from countless years of working in his garden. The green and brown mountains are his home, out of which he coaxes what little crops he has to grow. The sea, to him, is not blue and beautiful, it is where he catches tiny fish when he can't harvest his garden. The orange and blue trucks are not blurs of beautify - they are machines that take his money, bang him around, and hopefully drop him off at the market to sell and buy what little he can. In a span of seconds this old man shows you that this is not paradise to him. Rather, paradise is waiting for him in Heaven. He knows God and accepts Jesus as his savior. He has hope to one day be freed from the oppression he has faced in paradise.
That, to me, is greater than any sight, smell, or sound.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
No Title ;)
I have a lot going on. I'm super busy doing lots of stuff. Except blogging. Welcome to the end of the semester, folks. =)
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