No, no...although I've made a career out of moving around this fine country of ours, my blog is the only thing moving these days.
Come check it out:
http://soulstretchesandsteps.wordpress.com/
If you'd like to review old posts, rest assured they are on the new page. Also, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy my blog more in the future!
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Once Foggy
*Play this while your read:
The fog is lifting and the light of the morning sun is slowly burning away the density of the sadness that has kept me from seeing. Seeing and the need to be seen has been stunted by the thickness of the clouds that had settled around my soul for too long. Another winter season, another fog-laden soul search, another journey of truth seeking and truth telling. From an idea Jill Briscoe so eloquently coined, the steps of my soul have been perched upon for a great deal of important time and God has seen it fit to stretch out the sides. My legs sat still, keeping me from putting one foot in front of the other.
It was the year the locusts came, to snatch whatever morsels of joy, peace, or significance I might have felt. They left my heart's field for want of a truth seed sower and preacher of proper nourishment. Each remaining stubble of grass stood alone, clinging in perseverance to the sparse drops of truth water, sucking the necessary moisture, one measly drop at a time. In the darkness it seemed impossible that life was surviving, let along growing, as the clouds and surrounding fog settled in a little deeper. I prayed for mercy, trust, strength, and truth. I prayed for hope.
As the sun is rising to brilliance once again, reality is declaring there has been a farmer to my soul's field all along. He has not been asleep or wasting away the day while the fog had it's way. He's been lingering just on the other side of my foggy sight-line, offering those significant drops of truth water, occasionally placing a new seed of His grace and mercy amidst the sparse blades of grass still standing. His voice called out the locusts and their lies, though in the muted movement of the wind and in unrecognizable tones. He asked me to learn to recognize His voice in ways I had not before. He was offering rest under the blanket of the fog, if only I let go. Surrendering just seemed so hard despite its necessity.
The verse I hear as the sun and moon come in clearly once more is lifted by the clouds and rains new life on my soul's field. First starting in a whisper, massaging my heart from self-condemnation to grace in Christ. It is beginning to grow louder, can you hear it? It is meant to consume. "What can wash away my sin, nothing but the blood of Jesus."
Jesus and I have played hide and seek in that intensely deep fog. But the redemption and the grace received have thus far been worth it. If Christ is Lord, as I believe Him to be, it has been a journey to remember whom is on the throne and to live in the inheritance I have as the beloved.
The fog is lifting and the light of the morning sun is slowly burning away the density of the sadness that has kept me from seeing. Seeing and the need to be seen has been stunted by the thickness of the clouds that had settled around my soul for too long. Another winter season, another fog-laden soul search, another journey of truth seeking and truth telling. From an idea Jill Briscoe so eloquently coined, the steps of my soul have been perched upon for a great deal of important time and God has seen it fit to stretch out the sides. My legs sat still, keeping me from putting one foot in front of the other.
It was the year the locusts came, to snatch whatever morsels of joy, peace, or significance I might have felt. They left my heart's field for want of a truth seed sower and preacher of proper nourishment. Each remaining stubble of grass stood alone, clinging in perseverance to the sparse drops of truth water, sucking the necessary moisture, one measly drop at a time. In the darkness it seemed impossible that life was surviving, let along growing, as the clouds and surrounding fog settled in a little deeper. I prayed for mercy, trust, strength, and truth. I prayed for hope.
As the sun is rising to brilliance once again, reality is declaring there has been a farmer to my soul's field all along. He has not been asleep or wasting away the day while the fog had it's way. He's been lingering just on the other side of my foggy sight-line, offering those significant drops of truth water, occasionally placing a new seed of His grace and mercy amidst the sparse blades of grass still standing. His voice called out the locusts and their lies, though in the muted movement of the wind and in unrecognizable tones. He asked me to learn to recognize His voice in ways I had not before. He was offering rest under the blanket of the fog, if only I let go. Surrendering just seemed so hard despite its necessity.
The verse I hear as the sun and moon come in clearly once more is lifted by the clouds and rains new life on my soul's field. First starting in a whisper, massaging my heart from self-condemnation to grace in Christ. It is beginning to grow louder, can you hear it? It is meant to consume. "What can wash away my sin, nothing but the blood of Jesus."
Jesus and I have played hide and seek in that intensely deep fog. But the redemption and the grace received have thus far been worth it. If Christ is Lord, as I believe Him to be, it has been a journey to remember whom is on the throne and to live in the inheritance I have as the beloved.
Romans 8:1
So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.
John 4:14
But those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. It becomes a fresh, bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life.”
Mark 8:35
If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake and for the sake of the Good News, you will save it.
1 Corinthians 8:6
But we know that there is only one God, the Father, who created everything, and we live for him. And there is only one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom God made everything and through whom we have been give life.
So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.
John 4:14
But those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. It becomes a fresh, bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life.”
Mark 8:35
If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake and for the sake of the Good News, you will save it.
1 Corinthians 8:6
But we know that there is only one God, the Father, who created everything, and we live for him. And there is only one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom God made everything and through whom we have been give life.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Fear Not
2011 was a difficult year. If you frequent the stories of my life captured, it is not a surprise that I say as much. My 20's have generally been a challenging and exciting mixture of pure joy and deep, sometimes painful, change. I had been warned that my 20's were going to be that kind of season and have heard I'm not the only one who uses these words to explain this decade of life. But as I've reflected on 2011, I've noticed some of my bravery got lost, made a few wrong turns, and my confidence changed how it wanted to operate, moving from a shout to a whisper. I think in a good way....
My dad often recounts a story he remembers of me as a child. As a sentimental kind of guy who finds great joy in his girls, you should know I've heard this story an incredible amount of times... :)
He starts the story letting us all know that I was rather fearless as a child and acknowledges my desire to test the limits at any given moment in those days. So far, you're not surprised if you know me at all. I was very fond of the climbing toy that was our 1984 Chevy Caprice Classic station wagon in cool blue. As a wee little lass, about 4 or 5, I used to make sure the back swinging trunk door to the wagon was locked, used my bony little knee for leverage, and climbed up the back of that beauty, getting myself to the roof. Once I made my way to the top, I'd quickly shuffle on all fours to the main event at the edge of the front windshield. I'd shift my little self and sit right down on the roof, catapulting my booty down the windshield as if it were my very own smooth sailing slide. This would be repeated until the neighbor called my parents, I'm sure shaming them for not keeping the closest eye on their youngest trouble maker. Poor things had their hands full with me as a
kid!
Truth told, we had a normal slide on the jungle gym in the backyard, but I needed a bigger adventure! Certainly there was no fear - not even getting into trouble for the umpteenth time.
Over the years, like most of us, my feisty self has gone a little soft. The more I run into rejection, failure, conflict, and pain, the more fear desires to win out. It creeps in through the little lies Satan speaks in shrouded tones. It finds the insecurities that linger and makes them bigger than they need to be. Fear identifies the ways I am not experiencing God and replaces His truth with my ever shifting emotions in my relationship with Him. Fear takes away my bravery, stealing the confidence I know I can have in Christ.
2011 was littered with moments of fear as ministry was labeled failure when God still opened my eyes to some of it's successes. Fear of the future stared me down as unemployment lingered and vocational shifts ensu
ed. Fear captured my heart when grieving life's pains and in anticipating yet another cross-country move. Fear tried to grip my soul from being reminded of the one whose perfect love could cast it out in an instant. Yet somehow, holding on to fear made it sometimes feel like I could control it. Thank God, He is a rescuer.
God sees my mess and nods His head knowingly, understanding what was and what is to come. He's not surprised by my past and has allowed it in my story. His perfect love has given me grace and faith that can be confident in a hope that is eternal, if I let go. Fear has been an enemy of faith, love, hope, trust, and peace. Truth, however, has called me into a deeper trust.
If it is true, and I believe that it is, that He who began a good work in me will bring it to completion, than I can loosen the grip I have on my life and let God take my fear. His love, grace, and truth enable me to dream, rest, and hope in the eternal comfort to come. His work in me will never be done as I need a new redemption every day.
In the meantime I can keep climbing life's station wagons and ask for faith like a child.
My dad often recounts a story he remembers of me as a child. As a sentimental kind of guy who finds great joy in his girls, you should know I've heard this story an incredible amount of times... :)
He starts the story letting us all know that I was rather fearless as a child and acknowledges my desire to test the limits at any given moment in those days. So far, you're not surprised if you know me at all. I was very fond of the climbing toy that was our 1984 Chevy Caprice Classic station wagon in cool blue. As a wee little lass, about 4 or 5, I used to make sure the back swinging trunk door to the wagon was locked, used my bony little knee for leverage, and climbed up the back of that beauty, getting myself to the roof. Once I made my way to the top, I'd quickly shuffle on all fours to the main event at the edge of the front windshield. I'd shift my little self and sit right down on the roof, catapulting my booty down the windshield as if it were my very own smooth sailing slide. This would be repeated until the neighbor called my parents, I'm sure shaming them for not keeping the closest eye on their youngest trouble maker. Poor things had their hands full with me as a
kid!Truth told, we had a normal slide on the jungle gym in the backyard, but I needed a bigger adventure! Certainly there was no fear - not even getting into trouble for the umpteenth time.
Over the years, like most of us, my feisty self has gone a little soft. The more I run into rejection, failure, conflict, and pain, the more fear desires to win out. It creeps in through the little lies Satan speaks in shrouded tones. It finds the insecurities that linger and makes them bigger than they need to be. Fear identifies the ways I am not experiencing God and replaces His truth with my ever shifting emotions in my relationship with Him. Fear takes away my bravery, stealing the confidence I know I can have in Christ.
2011 was littered with moments of fear as ministry was labeled failure when God still opened my eyes to some of it's successes. Fear of the future stared me down as unemployment lingered and vocational shifts ensu
ed. Fear captured my heart when grieving life's pains and in anticipating yet another cross-country move. Fear tried to grip my soul from being reminded of the one whose perfect love could cast it out in an instant. Yet somehow, holding on to fear made it sometimes feel like I could control it. Thank God, He is a rescuer.God sees my mess and nods His head knowingly, understanding what was and what is to come. He's not surprised by my past and has allowed it in my story. His perfect love has given me grace and faith that can be confident in a hope that is eternal, if I let go. Fear has been an enemy of faith, love, hope, trust, and peace. Truth, however, has called me into a deeper trust.
If it is true, and I believe that it is, that He who began a good work in me will bring it to completion, than I can loosen the grip I have on my life and let God take my fear. His love, grace, and truth enable me to dream, rest, and hope in the eternal comfort to come. His work in me will never be done as I need a new redemption every day.
In the meantime I can keep climbing life's station wagons and ask for faith like a child.
Philippians 1:6
6 And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.
2 Thessalonians 2:15-17
15 With all these things in mind, dear brothers and sisters, stand firm and keep a strong grip on the teaching we passed on to you both in person and by letter. 16 Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal comfort and a wonderful hope, 17 comfort you and strengthen you in every good thing you do and say.
6 And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.
2 Thessalonians 2:15-17
15 With all these things in mind, dear brothers and sisters, stand firm and keep a strong grip on the teaching we passed on to you both in person and by letter. 16 Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal comfort and a wonderful hope, 17 comfort you and strengthen you in every good thing you do and say.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Royalty
This morning I was greeted with an email from a wonderful family friend checking in and reminding me of some of God's truth. She had no idea I needed it. She started the email, "Daughter of the Most High". All day I have been thinking, "daughter of the King."
Last summer, I was walking around Disney World with some friends. My friend Laurie had her family in town and they were all there, including her sweet 7 year old niece. For the record, Promise is now 8 :). Promise is in love with the Disney princesses and was keenly in search of her very own Disney princess gown. She made her most important selections and waited patiently in line to meet each Disney Princess, live and in color. As we approached the front, I watched Promise grow anxious with excitement as the fine moment arrived. She was enthralled with longing in her eyes, dreaming to be just like those princesses some day. I mentioned to her dad that I wasn't much into princesses at her age. I just could not identify with their Disney story as I rode my bike and played outside. He told me that he always calls Promise "his princess," and that ultimately it is because she is God's princess.
(don't these girls look like they could use some sweatpants and a coke?)
For some reason I thought about this idea of myself being God's princess for a REALLY long time, and I just didn't love it. As I recounted this story and the things my mind had lingered on, a friend asked me an important question. She said, "well, what is your definition of a princess?" She reminded me that if I only thought of myself as a Disney-defined princess, I'd be a lost cause. But being God's princess doesn't mean I have to wear high-heels, because Lord knows I'd never sing up for that for the long term. It also doesn't mean I have to wear lots of lace or even keep random talking animals around as pets. More importantly, I does mean that I am a daughter of the KING.
Lately, like so often, I have been thinking about my singleness and who's I am as I walk each mile. And this, my friends, is the hardest part.
I have spent many years in my castle's tower as a "lady in waiting." Secretly, as to not appear weak, hoping in fine Disney-form, for my prince to arrive and save me from loneliness or despair. I would have asked him to cross that treacherous moat of insecurity, battle the dragon of depression and discontent, and find the key buried way down deep, to unlock the tower door to my freedom. A tall order for a prince of even the strongest stature.
This year in particular, in my waiting, God has given me something else; what I really needed. Calling me a daughter of the King, His very princess, He's reminded me that my castle's tower door has already been open. The true freedom I desire stands resting in the truth that I am already His. In my mess and brokenness He invites me to the feast, satisfied with my jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers. No longer powerless but empowered in the shadow of the resurrection. He wants me, dragon and all. I am a princess, clothes with strength and dignity because that was His plan. Purposed for His kingdom and adorned with His peace. With majesty He greets me in the morning and I lavish Him with praise as we walk together, the Kingdom at hand.
He asks me to wait for my earthly prince charming with patience and renewed expectation, acknowledging who's I am - a Daughter of THE King.
Will you join me in living out of our significance as Sons and Daughters?
Thank God I don't have to wait in a big 'ol scratchy, lacy, gown.
Last summer, I was walking around Disney World with some friends. My friend Laurie had her family in town and they were all there, including her sweet 7 year old niece. For the record, Promise is now 8 :). Promise is in love with the Disney princesses and was keenly in search of her very own Disney princess gown. She made her most important selections and waited patiently in line to meet each Disney Princess, live and in color. As we approached the front, I watched Promise grow anxious with excitement as the fine moment arrived. She was enthralled with longing in her eyes, dreaming to be just like those princesses some day. I mentioned to her dad that I wasn't much into princesses at her age. I just could not identify with their Disney story as I rode my bike and played outside. He told me that he always calls Promise "his princess," and that ultimately it is because she is God's princess.
(don't these girls look like they could use some sweatpants and a coke?)Lately, like so often, I have been thinking about my singleness and who's I am as I walk each mile. And this, my friends, is the hardest part.
I have spent many years in my castle's tower as a "lady in waiting." Secretly, as to not appear weak, hoping in fine Disney-form, for my prince to arrive and save me from loneliness or despair. I would have asked him to cross that treacherous moat of insecurity, battle the dragon of depression and discontent, and find the key buried way down deep, to unlock the tower door to my freedom. A tall order for a prince of even the strongest stature.
This year in particular, in my waiting, God has given me something else; what I really needed. Calling me a daughter of the King, His very princess, He's reminded me that my castle's tower door has already been open. The true freedom I desire stands resting in the truth that I am already His. In my mess and brokenness He invites me to the feast, satisfied with my jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers. No longer powerless but empowered in the shadow of the resurrection. He wants me, dragon and all. I am a princess, clothes with strength and dignity because that was His plan. Purposed for His kingdom and adorned with His peace. With majesty He greets me in the morning and I lavish Him with praise as we walk together, the Kingdom at hand.
He asks me to wait for my earthly prince charming with patience and renewed expectation, acknowledging who's I am - a Daughter of THE King.
Will you join me in living out of our significance as Sons and Daughters?
Thank God I don't have to wait in a big 'ol scratchy, lacy, gown.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Time for a New Year Update
I'm far overdue for an update. I've enjoyed updating my blog with things I'm processing through, as it has been helpful for me to reflect in that way. However, real life happens all throughout the musings of my mind! My family got to share Thanksgiving AND Christmas together at my sister's in Austin. It was so nice not to have to fly somewhere and have extra time just to be together. A couple days after Christmas I got to head to Colorado for work (!) and ski. I know, you're really sad for me. Family Camp hosted a camp up near Gunnison, Colorado, at Waunita Hot Springs Ranch. That place is as amazing as it sounds. Gorgeous vistas, soothing hot springs, and lots of wonderful time to spend ministering to and just hanging out with great families. Plus, the skiing was pretty great too. I forgot how much fun it was!
Here are some photos of my holidays. Brace yourself, there are quite a few...I am a new Aunt after all! :) Hope your New Year is off to a great start. More to come on mine later...
Cute family with their new baby girl all decked out for Christmas Eve
There was lots of snuggling to be had
The best mom in town (besides my own:))...and her precious girl!
The Fam...minus me, I was the photographer
Four generations! Great to have nanny with us for Christmas
The mother load...Christmas morning. My parents out-do themselves every year, plus there was a new girl in the family to spoil!
Um...this is just too much to pass up. I love how Gucci has to be a part of the action ALL.the.time.
Christmas dinner...classy!
Love these cool trees my sister found at Target
On the slopes with some staff girls...and yes, I rocked that helmet!
Hanging with two of the members of a great family I met
Our staff for the weekend, fresh off the slopes
Here are some photos of my holidays. Brace yourself, there are quite a few...I am a new Aunt after all! :) Hope your New Year is off to a great start. More to come on mine later...
Cute family with their new baby girl all decked out for Christmas Eve
There was lots of snuggling to be had
The best mom in town (besides my own:))...and her precious girl!
The Fam...minus me, I was the photographer
Four generations! Great to have nanny with us for Christmas
The mother load...Christmas morning. My parents out-do themselves every year, plus there was a new girl in the family to spoil!
Um...this is just too much to pass up. I love how Gucci has to be a part of the action ALL.the.time.
Christmas dinner...classy!
Love these cool trees my sister found at Target
On the slopes with some staff girls...and yes, I rocked that helmet!
Hanging with two of the members of a great family I met
Our staff for the weekend, fresh off the slopesSaturday, December 24, 2011
Truly Advent
Waiting is not an unfamiliar concept to me, despite the trend of instant gratification in our culture. This year has been one of waiting to hear the voice of God, to know what might be next in my personal and vocational journey, or even to experience what Jesus promises is the peace that passes all understanding. We all wait for something; I am not alone in my waiting. Maybe we wait for the grass to get greener, like on the other side of the fence. Perhaps we are waiting for the darkness to lift in our weary souls or for oppression to cease and God’s mercy to redeem. Whatever the waiting, having patience and hope in our world’s broken state is the hardest part.
Waiting was not unfamiliar to the people of God in Scripture. The Israelites were accustomed to waiting, and grew wounded, tired, ungrateful, and impatient in doing so. They were promised a redeemer, one born of a virgin, to come with healing in His wings, or in the original Hebrew language, the “corners” of his garment. He would lift them out of their oppression, brokenness, and place them on top of the world, in a bright shining city on a hill. He would save their lives through His grace, giving salvation and redemption to a world weary of waiting, losing hope.
Sometimes in my waiting, I forget to see the gifts in front of my face, like the first-world, lavish conditions I live in. I forget that I eat three meals a day and have more left for another. I have family and friends that love, understand, and truly know me. I can read, write, and express myself without fear of losing my life for speaking what I believe to be true. Sometimes, when the waiting is almost unbearable, I even forget that regardless of the world around me, there is One who loves me unconditionally, and offered the gift of His Son that I might know eternity with Him in Heaven. Somehow, the weariness of my soul wins, and I find myself identifying with Israel in their waiting. Impatient for my Redeemer to be done healing my broken heart or mending the ways I see pain in the world.
This Christmas, I suppose it is important for me to have seen darkness, to know pain in the world or brokenness in my soul. To become familiar with the struggle and tension of waiting for the Israelites is only half of the story. Identifying with the pain and suffering of Christ paints a new picture for me of what He did becoming the “light of the world”. At Christmas I get to remember the waiting of the Israelites and be reminded that we will continue to wait for the return of Christ to us, honestly hoping for Heaven. Just like the weary world rejoiced as Christ came once long ago, He will come again. Just as He brought the law of love, and the Gospel of peace, He will come again to bring completion to the redemption of the world, and even my soul.
His light, in Christ, is what we see now on that city on the hill and what we will see made new in us as we allow Him to change our hearts. The light He brings asks nothing of us to earn it, but invites us to “taste and see” its goodness even now. Will you join me in celebrating the gift of God’s light in a dark world through Christ this Christmas? And will you remind me to continue hoping for heaven when I seem to forget that the best gift has already been given?
Gratefully,
Emily
Had to include this because she's so darn cute!!
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
The Potter and His Clay
My neighbor and I went on a walk about a month ago and I have been thinking about something she said ever since. We were talking about the healing and redeeming God does in our lives. Sometimes “rebuilding” seems to be a better word for it. She said something along the lines of, “God’s redemption of our lives takes the whole lifetime.” He’s constantly in the business of rebuilding, renovation, and recreating.
I have been spending a lot of time holding my newborn niece these days. She is fragile, tiny, with miniature fingers and toes, making sweet sounds, and is vulnerable in this life stage. It reminds me of my own soul’s fragile and vulnerable nature, and the ease with which it is broken or shattered. I’ve prayed that God would break my heart for what breaks His. I just didn’t realize it was my broken heart that needed tending to.
Sometimes when I am in a broken place, I see the Lord at His potter’s wheel. He has picked up the pieces of my soul named anger and pride, the ones with sharp edges and jagged sides. He lingers over the pieces with gutted insides, named insecurity and rejection. He picked up those pieces scattered about that I thought He had long since forgotten, hurtful words and lies I have believed. He gathered those dried out and sharp shards, and begins to see something new. Collecting much needed moisture from my tears of sadness and grief, He begins to turn the mixture into malleable clay.
Sitting before that potter’s wheel, the One who sees acknowledges each detail and knows the perfect place for each piece as He begins to rebuild. With gentleness and grace He leans His hands into my clay soul’s sides, with perfect pressure at each point. He spends hours shaping, more so, perfecting.
With indignation I ask Him why He made my clay soul so fragile, so easily breakable. Why not make a concrete disposition or one not so quick to fret with life’s shifting sands. He coolly speaks the truth that if He did, I would have no need for Him altogether. It’s that moment of the conversation I’m having with the great potter that He tells me He’s a good and trustworthy artist. Duly humbled, I acknowledge that this potter works with care, purpose, and trustworthy goodness. This potter, after all, is the great comforter, wonderful counselor, almighty God, everlasting Father, the prince of peace.
So then, in this lifetime of being rebuilt, re-crafted, newly shaped, my prayer becomes:
Lord, let my soul be breakable enough in the places it needs, but not so fragile that the shattered pieces cannot be picked back up once more.
2 Cor. 4:7-10; 16-18
We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.
We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed. Through suffering, our bodies continue to share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies.
That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.
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