twiddling thumbs and the verb in love.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purposes”
ROMANS 8:28

I don't want to sit still. Not when there is a world crying out to be loved.
I want to be right on those battlelines, fighting for people's hearts, holding people as they cry or sharing in the things that make them smile. I want to be there as they find a reason to sing. I want to be an example of the love that Christ has for us, that He pours out, overflowing onto us.

"Why am I here"? has become a question that I wake up with and struggle to answer daily. I know God has a reason, but some days, I feel purposeless. When I have slowed down enough, my mind drifts off and I see the face of one of those beautiful kids smiling up at me, laughing when I kiss their cheeks and tickle their toes. My heart soars when I hear the echo of their laugh in my head or imagine the touch of their tiny hands. My heart breaks when I remember driving past the signs... "We need help... food, water, medicine... we're dying." I remember whizzing past the tent cities stretching as far as my eyes could see, blown away because there was no end to them. Every street lay in rubble, a shell of what used to be homes and stores and schools reduced to dust. Most of all, I remember seeing the people praising. Praying on the curbs. Singing on the street. Who could fathom that kind of hope in such a place?

College in the fall. 2 years where, instead of being able to step out and love the people that have inspired me, or set foot on the land that claimed my heart, I will be stuck inside four walls. I will be writing papers and studying for tests and stressing out about some grade.

I hope I don't lose sight of the fact that God has a purpose. That through furthering my education, He is equipping me to do His work in even bigger ways than I could have imagined. I am so grateful to have the kind of opportunity that I do, that even if I don't get to be on the frontlines now to know that God is still using me and equipping me so maybe one day in the future I can be.

God has given me this passion, and this heart, and I pray that it can be used for His glory. I love that He has opened my eyes to the brokenness in the world and broken my heart for it. For now, I pray that He'd remind me every day that there are people to love right in the city I am in. I can love the Haitians just as much as I do right now, and still seek to love every person I haven't yet met, and the people I already know.

I am praying for purpose.

the dust at His feet

(based on Nahum 1:3/Luke 15:11-32)

Left Him standing there, without a promise to write,
sadly He watched me go, with tears in His eyes
He knew better than to follow, I'd be going anyways
but He didn't let me go before He set the sky ablaze

He painted it for me, every hue and every color,
Each stroke deliberately, as if to say "I'll wait forever"
And the deepness in the colors, ran deep with all His love
But what really got me thinking was,

When there are clouds in the sky, it mean's He's running
and He's kicking up the dust as He speeds,
but the sky was clear and bright,
there was no trace of clouds in sight,
His feet were still,
His feet were silent.

I had my fun, but found that fun had got the best of me,
How could all that I had sought have left me this empty?
The sky burned with the sunset, it painted a memory
of a man with arms wide open, waiting patiently

He painted it for me, every color and every hue,
With each deliberate stroke, as if to say "I still love you"
And the deepness in the colors ran deep with all His love,
so I turned homeward, and I saw the clouds above

The clouds in the sky meant He was running,
He was kicking up the dust as He sped
It didn't matter where I'd gone,
where I'd been
or what I've done,
He still ran
The clouds were the dust at His feet,
oh those clouds meant He was running to me.

I saw Him running down a famaliar road,
and as I ran into His arms, He wept and He glowed
And as I looked up, I saw the sky was full
of wispy white and wonderful, so I would always know

The clouds in the sky mean He's running,
He's kicking up the dust as He speeds
It doesn't matter where I've gone,
not where I've been,
or what I've done,
Oh, He runs,
He still loves

The clouds are the dust at His feet,
oh those clouds mean He's running,
He's running
to me.

An Agent of the Most High.

I am a field agent.
No? You don't believe me? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. For how could you? It's not like I can run a mere 200 meters without fighting to maintain decent oxygen levels in my lungs. My idea of weight lifting is getting my dirty clothes from the floor to the hamper. And true, the only kind of flipping I can do involves a spatula and a pancake, and even that can get messy. I realize I am everything opposite of what a field agent should be,
emotional,
weak,
and constantly vulnerable to attack.

But none of that matters.

I have been given a mission, a mission I must accept because my life depends on it. The lives of others depend on it. I'm not talking tight ropes and shark tanks. No, it's much more important than that.

I serve a Commander who does not operate with high-tech equipment and specially coded messages. His message does not self-destruct in ten seconds, but instead has stood for all of time. He is not displeased by failure, instead compassionate and forgiving when you cause a mission to go awry. My Commander does not send me out alone. He fights alongside me.

Everytime I go to my desk these days, my mission seems to be bigger. It's as if each new assignment is more impossible than the last. My current assignment came this morning, hand-delivered by the Commander Himself. He watched as I flipped through the pages, my eyes widening as I took in the task He had set before me.

"I can't do this." I gasped. It was simply too much for a single agent to take on alone. My Commander looked at me, and quietly said "I believe you can, you just need to trust me."
My mouth dropped. He was serious! "But... you don't understand... this is so BIG."
He touched me lightly on the shoulder and kindly countered "Ah... but so am I."
Left alone in my office with my new assignment limply in hand, I stared numbly out the window. Where could I even start? There was so much to be done.

It was then that the lights flickered. The whole building seemed to go silent, until the red alarm on the wall started flashing as a sharp wail grew. Intruders! I raced to the door and threw it open, staring right into the faces of our unwelcome visitors.

Discouragement had found me. It seems these scumbags always know right where to look. He had brought
Inadequate and Hopelessness with him. Did they always have to come in numbers? Discouragement took advantage of my hesitation and landed a hard punch to my nose. Eyes watering, I swung two weak punches that barely connected his way. That gave time for Inadequate to jump on my back and pull me over onto the desk, flailing all the way down. Hopelessness got a hold of my head and slammed it onto my coffee mug. I kicked blindly as I fought back the spots that had appeared in front of my eyes. I was slowly losing conciousness... "Commander..." I choked out before the black could consume me. "Save me..."

When I finally came around, the Commander was beside me, dabbing a cool cloth across my forehead. Discouragement, Inadequate and Hopelessness lay sprawled on the floor, bound and tied and looking rather worse for wear.
"You should have trusted me." He reprimanded me, and I nodded sheepishly. "Now, lets get you up, you have some work to do."

He looked over the file with me. As I pointed to the objectives that seemed out of reach, he granted me wisdom and peace only a Commander who has been-there-done-that can. As we read it over together, the impossible became accomplishable, the out of reach seemed to be in sight. Our strategy was flawless. for He would be the strength in the areas that I was so weak in. You know, the running, flipping, weight lifting, emotion controlling kinds of areas.

Turns out, we did just fine. The mission wasn't without a hitch, but that was partly due to my fleeting doubt at those high intensity moments. Throughout the assignment, My Commander was patient when I fumbled, and reassuring when I felt afraid.

I've been an agent a pretty long time, but only now am I beginning to truly see what it takes, and to finally discover the purpose that the Commander has for me. It's taking time, but it's icredible to see what can be accomplished when I have stopped saying "I can't" and started saying "I will!"

I am a field agent.
I am called to do everything in love, and to be a witness to the ends of the earth. Sometimes, the Commander calls me to take on missions that seem big, and almost always, His plans are much different than my own. But my Commander has proven bigger than every mission, any monster, and through it all, able to use a weakling like me! It is a priveledge to serve under such a loving Commander, and to take up the cross to live in His Almighty Name.

I am a field agent.
I will strive to fight the battles of an apathetic world
I will strive to love purposefully and relentlessly.
I will witness to a world that needs a Savior.
I will serve the Commander until the end of my days.

A Dance With the Devil

"FOR SIN WILL HAVE NO DOMINION OVER YOU, SINCE YOU ARE NOT UNDER THE LAW BUT UNDER GRACE" - Romans 6:14

I was standing awkwardly against the wall when I noticed him first. There was something striking about him, something particularly alluring. As if he sensed my gaze, he slowly turned and caught my eye. Embarrassed that he had seen my less-than-discreet attempt at staring, I looked down at my feet, where it was safe. The music was blaring loudly, pumping its bass until the beat matched the racing hearts of the dancers on the floor. Eccentric lights pulsed around them, a flashy array of colors that begged to be met with the whirlwind of feet. Standing against the wall, I was vulnerable, my guard was down, and it was as if it was these thoughts and insecurities were feeding the footsteps that walked towards me. I looked up from my feet to see who belonged to the pair of legs that had joined me, and found myself looking into the face of the handsome young man. Tall, steady, and with piercing dark eyes, I had to assemble my fumbled thoughts into my attempt at a suave greeting. “Hi.” I heard myself softly say, although I was inwardly surprised that my mouth could function at all. His eyes were the most intriguing thing about him. They were dark, and as calculatingly cold as they were beautiful. I didn’t know what he was seeing through them, but I knew that in his eyes I sensed a captivating kind of danger that sent shivers of thrill up my spine. “May I have this dance?” He whispered in my ear, and I felt my knees weaken. Part of me felt warning lights go off, begged me to refuse, but my weak desire compelled me to accept.

The first dance. The last. It sealed my fate with a twirl and a dip, and all my senses were ensnared. As he lightly took hold of my waist and reached for my hand, I felt sparks. We had been predestined to dance this dance. He took the first step forward, I took mine back, and the dance began. He led flawlessly, stepping perfectly in time to the rhythm of the music. My usually clumsy self was effortlessly gliding, almost in an ironic grace across the floor. I felt as if we were the only people in the room as he matched his gaze with mine, and I was delighted to find my feet light. He began to spin me around, and although I was beginning to feel dizzy, he always caught me in his arms. I was safe, untouchable. He remained cautiously respectful as we paced the wooden floor lightly, drawing me in with his charm. Then the song ended.

Another song began to play. My eyes averted, he cupped my chin in his hands and softly inquired, “Would it be selfish of me to have another?” Pleased that he would bother asking, and hyperaware of his closeness, I nodded. Some of the previous awkwardness evaporating, he pulled me closer in and held me in his arms. Instead of sweeping over the floor, we swayed back and forth. Whoever this man was, he certainly did not beat around the bush. Although I was in the arms of a stranger, I was content and I found myself enjoying the attention rather than obeying the concern that was ceaselessly pleading with me in the back of my mind. He pressed his lips to my neck, and I found my heart beating in irregularly fast beats. I pulled away, momentarily too shocked to let myself be enticed. Noticing my discomfort, he murmured “I’m sorry. I’ll behave.” My mind forged two reactions to his words. One of relief, and one of bitter disappointment. Would I allow my innocence to deprive me this newfound satisfaction? Against my better judgement, and half unbelieving that I allowed myself to do so, I pressed my lips against his, and bade his promise to behave as unnecessary. The final notes tinkled away.

“I need a ladies moment.” I told him, and he coyly winked and released me. “I’ll be waiting.” he replied, and I realized that he fully expected me to return. Foolishly, I realized he was right. Something about him couldn’t keep me away. I ran into the seclusion of the ladies room and propped myself up on the sink. I knew things were going too fast, but I didn’t want to stop them, though everything inside me screamed against it. I turned the tap slowly, gazing into the mirror, and brought the cool water to my face. Then I squared my shoulders, and marched back out of the ladies room. In my haste on my way out, I bumped into another young man. He was nothing extraordinary in appearance, but had a soft way about him. He seemed to exude calmness, and he chuckled. “Save me a dance!” He hollered over his shoulder as the crowd pushed him past me.

I returned to the dance floor, my worries unappeased. There he stood, magnificently, just as he said he would. My concern dissolved as his charm seemed to overcome the uneasiness that had flooded me while I had been away from his gaze. He held out his hand and I took it, cautiously excited. The beat had quickened, the music pulsing once again, and I found him moving against my body, closer than I was comfortable with. What I did not expect was my discomfort to feel so good. Ignoring my conscience, I followed his movements, never seeming to get as close as I would like. When the song had ended, we were both out of breath. I was unsatisfied. The temporary pleasure that had coursed through me was gone too abruptly.

“May I cut in?” said the man I had nearly bulldozed just moments earlier. I felt heat swiftly rise to my cheeks, and found myself hoping he had not seen the way I’d just been dancing. Somehow, his presence made me embarrassed, for the erotic way in which I had displayed myself had suddenly become something that I no longer wanted anyone to see. These eyes were light and warm, crinkling at the edges as he smiled, and I couldn’t care to even glance at the other man, who now stood cooly beside us, watching our exchange. As I took the hand of the victim of my clumsiness, I was whisked away to an emptier fringe of the dance floor, but not before I caught the eyes of the bolder man. His dark eyes burned, and he stiffly grabbed the waist of the nearest girl to him, pulling her close. Hurt, I turned my gaze.

Dancing with this man was slightly more difficult. He was less inclined to lead, only doing so when I wasn’t inventing my own beat. I had to concentrate on the rhythm, counting in my head, until finally my steps moved in time to his. I found dancing with him less intoxicating, I could think clearly, and I knew I was enjoying myself. Every once in a while, I would tromp on a toe, and he would chuckle and patiently wait while I found the rhythm once more. He held me gently, and I felt comfortable. Nothing was demanded of me but myself. Even in my clumsy and awkward way, he accepted me. All too soon, the song ended, and the enchantingly dangerous man returned.

“May I be the one to cut in this time?” He asked smoothly, his voice thin. My current partner released me. “Ladies choice.” He replied. I liked that he was giving me the option, and, still stinging from my first partner's rash actions in finding a new partner all too quickly, I smiled at them both, and turned to the one beside me. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’m not done with you yet.” I smiled shyly, and he smiled back. The handsome man nodded, his cold eyes narrowing. He took a step to leave, but before he did he grabbed my arm. “You know where to find me if you want to have some real fun.” He whispered acidly in my ear. Taken aback, I nodded as he brusquely crossed the floor. And I knew somehow, I would end up dancing with him again. Shaking the thought from my mind, I let the new beat flood my mind, hoping desperately to think of little else than just dancing. And with him, it was so easy to just be.

I find myself dancing these dances far too often, one in the arms of the devil, and then the next in the patient arms of my loving Savior. There is something about sin that entices me, appearing so attractive and harmless at first glance, but so cold and heartless when immersed in it's charms. The devil has a hold, he always knows which insecurities to feed from, and he will not hesistate to whisk my hand from Jesus' at first chance. But Jesus is the perfect dance partner. He is unafraid of clumsy feet and battered toes, and ever patient when I've lost step. He loves me in my awkward inabillity to maintain any grace at all, while showering me with His own grace.
I sealed myself into sin when I took the hand of the devil, but Jesus has made a way out of that. And so I will dance with Him into eternity, stepping to the tune of the angels praising Him, and basking in the undeserved love He offers.

love, LOVE, love...

lets not love inside the lines,
lets c o l o r the world with something
REVOLUTIONARY.
something more than just a
" how are you " without desire for an honest answer
or an " i'll pray for you "  with already forgotten intent

lets not love in |boundaries|
because there are too many walls, fences, and doors already
and people are longing to be o  p  e  n
to scream when they are in pain,
to shout when they are joyful
to cry when they are overcome
and to be held together when they're about to let go


lets bring LOVE into the light again,
a patient love, a kind love,
a love not easily angered,
that protects and trusts and hopes and perserveres
a love without Fail

lets love RELENTLESSLY
striving to touch the heart,
even if for just a fleeting moment
because love,

genuine love

has been stamped with secular definition
and LOVEshould not be labelled by the world
but given as an outlet of He who loved you first
who loves you most
who loves you still

.....even when it hurts.

lets LOVE like we mean it.