dear india,
i miss you today...a lot. in fact, i'm dying to come see you and if i could, i'd catch the next plane that left LAX for you. reading a friend's blog made me crack up all over again at some of the funny things that happened when i saw you last. it also made me ache, not knowing you as deep as i wish i could, and knowing there is so much more to you than i know. so much beauty, so much pain, so much need for Someone to save you. and yet, there are those among you who know and love Him, despite the difficult costs. do we belong together? will i ever see you again? why did i have a recent chat with an old friend we both know? why did i stumble across pictures of you today? why can't i get you off my mind these days? i miss you, but sometimes i'm not even sure what it is that i miss. do you miss me back? i think i'm going to start praying more for you and also whether i should come and see you soon.
and i think i'm also going to start learning hindi.
love, heather
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
the drive
silence......
the only sounds to be heard were the revving of the engine and the harsh wind as she sped through it, up the inclines, down the dips, and into the cold, black night. above her head and out in the looming distance were streaks of navy and ash, with less than a handful of sparkled glitters, giving a faint glow to the sky. in the air was the bone-chilling smell of december, which would soon fade away quietly into january.
and she drove on.
at first, there were no thoughts. there were no deep revelations, no wonderments to turn the head of another. only silence. and it continued for a good long while. until a rather small gleam opened up those unpretentious clouds, and as the gap grew wider, the thoughts began pouring through.
one of them, which was admittedly large--called prayer, occupied her, and caused an array of emotions. initially, it tried to push her into a pond of guilt, but stepping back, she became more curious than apologetic. what was this so-desired essence that they all routinely listed as wanting, yet which was more often treated as a mediocre advantage?
for many, it seemed suitable, almost sensible, but clearly was not coveted in a manner which would guarantee its obtaining. and yet for others, so select-few it seemed, it was quite simple, and yet treasured so deeply and used so often, that one could only guess what would happen if it were not there.
what a thing to consider, she wondered, steering slightly to the right. how many people in the world prayed for such selfish purposes...how many of her own conversations with God had been centered on her materialistic desires and vain hopes. what image do i portray of Him? what does He think when i speak? the questions drew her out of a reverie as she simultaneously pressed the brake to keep from colliding into a speeding shadow.
and who was she, to think she could hide from Him? yes, those deep, hidden indulgences and guilts were indeed paraded before His eyes, with no veil to cover them. mercy, she cried, oh God show me mercy in my innermost being! for what i have done--and what i have not done, for my apathy and my pride, for the days when i loved you not and the days i lived for myself. four hot tears slid down her cheek, and she wished with all her might she could see Him and let Him hold her tenderly in His strong arms.
teach her, dearest Father, what it means to pray. break her clenched fists with Your gentle touch. for she longs for You, o holy one--You who even as a nursing babe would have more wisdom than she.
and coming round the last bend, she saw the city lights aglow. they were breath-taking. common-sense prevented her from pulling to the side and breathing in those lights, but oh how desperately she wanted to stop the journey of life and soak them in--those pictures of her soul, little flames in the distance, with so much beneath them.
but i promise, she said aloud...you shall look at this girl in one year's span, and if she is alive, she will be very much a changed woman. changed through prayer by Him who listens and answers. broken she may be, but crushed she will not, for she has hope--that which, though shaken at times, will never fall. hope in the One who knows best, who knows all, and who knew her frail, trembling heart--and who still loved her. with that thought, her head bent to the side, the trace of a smile could be found on the corner of her lips, and if you delved into her mind, you would have seen, "He still loves me."
in more ways than one,
it was a beautiful drive home.
the only sounds to be heard were the revving of the engine and the harsh wind as she sped through it, up the inclines, down the dips, and into the cold, black night. above her head and out in the looming distance were streaks of navy and ash, with less than a handful of sparkled glitters, giving a faint glow to the sky. in the air was the bone-chilling smell of december, which would soon fade away quietly into january.
and she drove on.
at first, there were no thoughts. there were no deep revelations, no wonderments to turn the head of another. only silence. and it continued for a good long while. until a rather small gleam opened up those unpretentious clouds, and as the gap grew wider, the thoughts began pouring through.
one of them, which was admittedly large--called prayer, occupied her, and caused an array of emotions. initially, it tried to push her into a pond of guilt, but stepping back, she became more curious than apologetic. what was this so-desired essence that they all routinely listed as wanting, yet which was more often treated as a mediocre advantage?
for many, it seemed suitable, almost sensible, but clearly was not coveted in a manner which would guarantee its obtaining. and yet for others, so select-few it seemed, it was quite simple, and yet treasured so deeply and used so often, that one could only guess what would happen if it were not there.
what a thing to consider, she wondered, steering slightly to the right. how many people in the world prayed for such selfish purposes...how many of her own conversations with God had been centered on her materialistic desires and vain hopes. what image do i portray of Him? what does He think when i speak? the questions drew her out of a reverie as she simultaneously pressed the brake to keep from colliding into a speeding shadow.
and who was she, to think she could hide from Him? yes, those deep, hidden indulgences and guilts were indeed paraded before His eyes, with no veil to cover them. mercy, she cried, oh God show me mercy in my innermost being! for what i have done--and what i have not done, for my apathy and my pride, for the days when i loved you not and the days i lived for myself. four hot tears slid down her cheek, and she wished with all her might she could see Him and let Him hold her tenderly in His strong arms.
teach her, dearest Father, what it means to pray. break her clenched fists with Your gentle touch. for she longs for You, o holy one--You who even as a nursing babe would have more wisdom than she.
and coming round the last bend, she saw the city lights aglow. they were breath-taking. common-sense prevented her from pulling to the side and breathing in those lights, but oh how desperately she wanted to stop the journey of life and soak them in--those pictures of her soul, little flames in the distance, with so much beneath them.
but i promise, she said aloud...you shall look at this girl in one year's span, and if she is alive, she will be very much a changed woman. changed through prayer by Him who listens and answers. broken she may be, but crushed she will not, for she has hope--that which, though shaken at times, will never fall. hope in the One who knows best, who knows all, and who knew her frail, trembling heart--and who still loved her. with that thought, her head bent to the side, the trace of a smile could be found on the corner of her lips, and if you delved into her mind, you would have seen, "He still loves me."
in more ways than one,
it was a beautiful drive home.
Friday, December 25, 2009
christ [mas] morning
bright and early I woke
and with a rub of my eyes
I remembered what day this was
off flew the warm blankets
on went the smile and laughter
and fairly soon
it had all begun,
though really,
it had begun much long ago
at the beginning of the world's time to be precise.
but let us fast forward from then
and backtrack from now
to the dirty, bustling, crowded city of
Bethlehem.
she was pregnant
she was shamed by her family and friends
and he was too, for keeping her
[a shame which all three of them would suffer
the rest of their lives]
they were tired from the long, slow trip south
only to be met by filled-streets
and horrified relatives,
seeing her bulging stomach
knowing they weren't yet wed
no, there was "no room" for them
and the young girl
probably about to cry in desperation
gave birth to her baby boy
in a cattle shed.
she lay her son in a hard manger
softened only by cattle's feed of bristly straw
and lay back exhausted
how would it feel to know that you had born the Messiah--the promised one?
he came to save his people,
but not just the Jewish nation
you
and me.
yes, those oppressed people, slaves to the Greeks
and then the Romans [for years]
without direct messages from God
for 400 years
were not the only captives set free by his coming
that's the message of the Bible.
but, i must be clear, it's only half of the message
because a little over thirty years later,
this little baby would grow up to become a man
who would finally fulfill his purpose for coming to earth
that is,
to die
for you
and me
and to be raised back to life
so that those who believe him--
with active belief, the kind that can't wait to tell the world--
that those who die with him
would be set free
saved
rescued from sin and death
forever.
and the best part is...
he's coming back.
and with a rub of my eyes
I remembered what day this was
off flew the warm blankets
on went the smile and laughter
and fairly soon
it had all begun,
though really,
it had begun much long ago
at the beginning of the world's time to be precise.
but let us fast forward from then
and backtrack from now
to the dirty, bustling, crowded city of
Bethlehem.
she was pregnant
she was shamed by her family and friends
and he was too, for keeping her
[a shame which all three of them would suffer
the rest of their lives]
they were tired from the long, slow trip south
only to be met by filled-streets
and horrified relatives,
seeing her bulging stomach
knowing they weren't yet wed
no, there was "no room" for them
and the young girl
probably about to cry in desperation
gave birth to her baby boy
in a cattle shed.
she lay her son in a hard manger
softened only by cattle's feed of bristly straw
and lay back exhausted
how would it feel to know that you had born the Messiah--the promised one?
he came to save his people,
but not just the Jewish nation
you
and me.
yes, those oppressed people, slaves to the Greeks
and then the Romans [for years]
without direct messages from God
for 400 years
were not the only captives set free by his coming
that's the message of the Bible.
but, i must be clear, it's only half of the message
because a little over thirty years later,
this little baby would grow up to become a man
who would finally fulfill his purpose for coming to earth
that is,
to die
for you
and me
and to be raised back to life
so that those who believe him--
with active belief, the kind that can't wait to tell the world--
that those who die with him
would be set free
saved
rescued from sin and death
forever.
and the best part is...
he's coming back.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
silent eyes
she stood quietly
as above her head the planes thundered into the air
destined for secret places, traceable only by the signs on their tails
she stood quietly
as around her the waves rippled in the dark night
washing the So-Cal beach and preparing it for the morning
and the stars,
oh those beautiful stars,
were hidden by a milky wave painted across the sky
were it not for those around her
tears would've come to her longing eyes
those eyes that had seen much, that had experienced much
and each time another plane left the nearby runway--
soaring powerfully above--
the blue eyes darted up
wishing
praying
waiting
hoping her turn would come soon
how throbbing it was for her searching heart
scared of what lay ahead
out there in the dark distance
across the black sea
she knew not what would come, but only that it would
and turning back to the brightly-lit fire
that stark contrast on a cold december night
she let
go.
of tomorrow's dreams, the regrets of the past
and silently
yes
silently
--for though they saw her face they did not know her heart--
she gave it back
again
as she felt she had done so many times before
and though the tears didn't come til she was alone
it didn't matter anymore
because she was surrendering to win...
soon would come the day
when a plane would take off the ground,
when the fire burned brightly once more,
and the world would be set ablaze.
as above her head the planes thundered into the air
destined for secret places, traceable only by the signs on their tails
she stood quietly
as around her the waves rippled in the dark night
washing the So-Cal beach and preparing it for the morning
and the stars,
oh those beautiful stars,
were hidden by a milky wave painted across the sky
were it not for those around her
tears would've come to her longing eyes
those eyes that had seen much, that had experienced much
and each time another plane left the nearby runway--
soaring powerfully above--
the blue eyes darted up
wishing
praying
waiting
hoping her turn would come soon
how throbbing it was for her searching heart
scared of what lay ahead
out there in the dark distance
across the black sea
she knew not what would come, but only that it would
and turning back to the brightly-lit fire
that stark contrast on a cold december night
she let
go.
of tomorrow's dreams, the regrets of the past
and silently
yes
silently
--for though they saw her face they did not know her heart--
she gave it back
again
as she felt she had done so many times before
and though the tears didn't come til she was alone
it didn't matter anymore
because she was surrendering to win...
soon would come the day
when a plane would take off the ground,
when the fire burned brightly once more,
and the world would be set ablaze.
Monday, December 14, 2009
brother's wisdom
my brother is very wise
and i respect him a lot
last night he reminded me of something
which i had forgotten
he said,
trying to get rid of something in your life
or thoughts
is like trying to get air out of a jar
no matter how hard you try to suck all the air out
it wont work
unless
you fill it with water
and so it is with our lives
the only way
to get something out of your life
or thoughts
is to fill them with something else
like Jesus
to be so completely consumed by Jesus
and loving him above all else
will slowly take away
the worries of other things
and so i've decided
this week
to focus on filling my life
with God's word
and thoughts about him
so that it crowds out
all the unncessary worries
that shouldn't be there.
and this is the verse that's been running through my head all day:
"for i have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer i who live, but Christ who lives in me."
and i respect him a lot
last night he reminded me of something
which i had forgotten
he said,
trying to get rid of something in your life
or thoughts
is like trying to get air out of a jar
no matter how hard you try to suck all the air out
it wont work
unless
you fill it with water
and so it is with our lives
the only way
to get something out of your life
or thoughts
is to fill them with something else
like Jesus
to be so completely consumed by Jesus
and loving him above all else
will slowly take away
the worries of other things
and so i've decided
this week
to focus on filling my life
with God's word
and thoughts about him
so that it crowds out
all the unncessary worries
that shouldn't be there.
and this is the verse that's been running through my head all day:
"for i have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer i who live, but Christ who lives in me."
Saturday, December 12, 2009
she
she wants to write
but doesnt know what to say
she feel it all inside
but the words wont come
it's like nostalgic, for both the past and future
but content
for the rain has come at long last
and she loves it.
the time runs short
and she is drawn to a close
though on the other side, he has no idea
of what has passed
of what awaits
it's all so very strange
and yet perfectly planned
because on the table sits
one
white
rose.
but doesnt know what to say
she feel it all inside
but the words wont come
it's like nostalgic, for both the past and future
but content
for the rain has come at long last
and she loves it.
the time runs short
and she is drawn to a close
though on the other side, he has no idea
of what has passed
of what awaits
it's all so very strange
and yet perfectly planned
because on the table sits
one
white
rose.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
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