Drop Your Leaves

We've had such a beautiful Fall this year. Fall has got to be one of my favorite seasons. I just love all the colors, the crispness in the air, the change. It's like you can see the change right before your very eyes, and change is often hard to see. I think that's why I love Fall so much. Trees dropping their leaves, preparing for the winter months ahead. It's one of the magnificently logical processes of nature. 

52 Week Project ~ Week 32
Falling behind this Fall, but making the most of it.

With the change of seasons comes a letting go of all those little things that can potentially burden us with unfit weight that we no longer ought to carry. But unlike nature, often times we try to hold onto these things way too long. Though wind, rain, and tempest roar, some of us would rather lay down our lives than give up our pride.

I'm forced to ask myself why...

Why do we view life this way? Why do we resist change? Why do we hold onto things that we know we just need to let go of?

These things---they don't even have to be blatantly bad---can hinder us from having authentic relationships with family and friends, from reaching out of our comfort zone to help someone in need, or from seeing the kingdom of God in all its power and glory. They can keep us stuck in an old way of thinking or in a hardened place of unforgiveness and resentment. They can misalign our priorities or slowly lead us down a slippery slope of despair.

I'll bet a thing or two comes to mind. Something that you know you should've let go long before today, but for whatever reason (you may have some very good ones), you have yet to loosen your death grip.

Just because we're human doesn't mean we don't experience seasons and need to let go of things as part of the natural progression of life. I think we could all take a lesson from nature in knowing when to let go and move on. Each season of life has a purpose, and yet, I propose that one likely reason why we fail to recognize a particularly rough season's purpose could be that we're trying to carry unnecessary baggage from the past that we stubbornly refuse to offload.

So whatever it is that's weighing you down, now is the time to free yourself up, to move on. After all, Fall is the season of noticeable change. You know it'll be beautiful. We all need to stop wishing for Summer to come back and stop dreading the Winter's cold. This season has special things for us to do and discover. Don't let it pass you by---or else soon enough you may be the snow laden tree that fell because it refused to let go of its leaves when it had the chance.

Here's a few things I've discovered so far this Fall.

Life is Beautiful

It's official. I have made the leap to a smartphone.

A couple weeks ago I upgraded my old semi-smartphone (you know, the kind that looks like a dumb phone, but you can check email on it) to a really basic blackberry-looking phone that didn't come with extra data charges. I thought it'd be better to go simple, save some money, and limit the time I spent glued to my cellular device. Within the first few days, however, of using that basic phone, I had problems with it insisting on randomly restarting itself and displaying the wrong time. Not O.K. After enduring the stress of returning that phone, I gave in and bought a smartphone: the HTC Rhyme. It actually works AND it's purple! It does a bunch of other stuff too, but that's all I care about at this point.

I've been challenged this week to do a self-check and re-evaluate what I consider to be important. When technology spirals to the center of our lives, it becomes difficult for us to see beyond the screen in front of us. Materialism is highly addictive; with just one taste, we're hooked. We start thinking that a good life means having the coolest gadgets, the biggest house, and the prettiest profile picture. When we idealize life like that, we cheat ourselves in one of two ways: either through self-pity, resulting from an insatiable desire for more of the things we can't have, or through self-indulgence, resulting from too much of the things that we think we need.

Either way, we miss out on this.

52 Week Project 2012 ~ Week 28

A holy life is a beautiful life. "Worship the Lord with the beauty of holy lives" (Psalm 96:9). Worshipping the Lord and bringing glory to his name should be our goal as long as we have breath. That's our purpose; the essence of life. If we deny that, we deny God the praise he deserves and we deny ourselves the experience of a truly beautiful life.

Jesus came so that we might have life to the full. Not full of stuff, but full of Him. For only in Christ will we ever be complete. Jesus spoke to his disciples these words which hold true for us today: 

"I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing...You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit--fruit that will last" (John 15:5, 16).

May we live abiding in Christ this week and worship God with the beauty of holy lives. 

Longing For Where I Belong

In my last post I wrote about how I've experienced God as my shatter-proof refuge through the shock and disillusionment of unexpected troubles and difficulties. When we trust in the Lord, who acts as our strength and our stronghold in times of trouble--our Rescue and our Deliverer--the trials we face possess the unmatched potential of developing within us an irrevocable desire for eternity. Hurt and pain can either drive our hearts into the ground or intensify our longing for that hopeful day when we'll experience complete healing and renewal. Nurturing this craving, as opposed to ignoring it or writing it off as a far-off fantasy, has been essential to my spiritual, physical, and emotional well-being and has drastically transformed both my understanding of God and my relationship with Him.

Have you ever felt frustrated, discouraged, or dismayed by the pain and the suffering you see throughout the world--natural disasters, poverty, oppression? Have you ever felt outraged by the evil of our day that has polluted innocent children like those in Uganda--KONY 2012 anyone? Have you ever felt that this is not how life should be, that there's gotta be more than this?

52 Week Project 2012 ~ 10/52
Warwick Furnace

On a smaller scale, when we see abandoned buildings, or trees split by lightning, or thorns and thistle choking the life out of plants, we often have a similar reaction...that is, assuming we take the time to react. We know that the sad remnant in front of us does not line up with its original purpose or design. Even if we simply look away and refuse to acknowledge the brokenness, that reaction still speaks to our desire for wholeness, for a world where life and love reign, for something more than this. Our normal reactions, and whatever emotions they encompass, indicate our recognition that something is wrong with this picture.

However, despite these reactions, I also suggest that just as everything has a purpose--form does not exist without function--the existence of pain and suffering conveys the fact that it, too, must have a function. My psychology book presents pain as a biopsychosocial phenomenon that we must seek to understand in terms of its biological, psychological, and social influences. It argues the purpose of pain lies its message, which warns us that something is wrong. If pain indicates that something is wrong, the logical flip-side to this phenomenon illustrates the "rightness" of a time and place free from pain.

I'd like to encourage you in the midst of the confusion and chaos by proposing that the very existence of your feelings of frustration and wonder suggests that this is not how the world was originally meant to be and that there is, indeed, something better yet to come. Otherwise, we would not have a problem with pain and suffering nor would we have a desire to see it to go away.

With that logic in mind, I believe we can confidently and rationally justify our hope and our longing for Heaven, the place where pain and suffering cease to exist. Through eyes of faith, we can view our present suffering as a promise of the future glory that will soon be revealed to us. Until that day, we continue to persevere in faith, being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we cannot see. We continue to grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ who entered into our suffering and took it on completely so that we could have the opportunity to take on his righteousness and his glory if we so choose. We shall continue to rest in the arms of our God, who created us out of love and desires to comfort us and pour out his blessing upon us in the midst of our pain.  We continue to live with the perspective that this world is not our final destination. We were created for perfect relation with God which is why our hearts long for something more than the brokenness that we experience here on this earth. Not only do we feel it, but nature feels the same deep ache and groans in anticipation for the day of redemption as well. Restoration is coming!

If home is where the heart is, I hope that we will embrace the truth that Heaven is our home because our hearts belong with the One who "heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds" (Psalm 147:3). His name is Jesus.

"...and my soul is getting restless for the place where I belong, I can't wait to join the angels and sing my Heaven song"

 ~ Heaven Song by Phil Wickham

Chasing the Wind

52 Week Project 2012 ~ 8/52

The picture to the left has an interesting story behind it, one which most people would probably be too embarrassed to tell, but I'm going to share it anyway. 

As a preface, it's important that you know, this past week has overwhelmed me to the max. Five tests and one big project stretched my mental limits, my lack of sleep due to that insane work load pushed me physically and emotionally and, also, probably had something to do with why I felt so sick--worse headaches and nausea--especially towards the end of the week.

All that to say, on Wednesday, I desperately needed an afternoon nap. My body and mind wouldn't compromise with me on that. It was an absolutely BEAUTIFUL sunny and 60 degree day outside, birds chirping and all. The last place I wanted to spend my afternoon was cooped up inside my dorm room, but that's where the story of this week's picture begins.

I gave up what I imagined to be the perfect time of day to take pictures and granted my body and mind some extra time to rest and recuperate before I would force it to stay up until two in the morning to study again for yet another test. After nestling myself under the covers, I dozed off to the sound of the wind blowing in through my window, the coolness of its calming breeze sweeping over me, bringing with it renewed energy and a sense of wholeness. With each passing minute, the sun dropped lower in the sky. Upon reaching the opening of my 2nd story window, its rays gently poured into my room, filling it to the rhythm of the wind.

I awoke to the beat of the breeze with the syncopation of the sunshine. My first instinct was to hide under the covers, shield my eyes from the light, and rest some more. And yet, I'm glad that the wind blew so obnoxiously strong that afternoon because it forced me to wake from my slumber and roll out of bed into the shrinking darkness. I had not the option to ignore the wind nor the sunshine; their harmonious beauty captivated my attention and refused to let it go.

So up I went, out of bed, stumbling over my feet in search of my camera, intending on quickly snapping a picture of the wind that woke me from my much-needed nap time.  204 photos and nearly 45 minutes later, I climbed back into bed even more amazed and reflected on the subtly in which God often chooses to bless his beloved children if only they took the time to notice.

 I thought I needed physical rest in the form of a nice nap. What really refreshed me, though, was having the chance to nourish my soul through encountering the beauty of God in his creation and attempting to capture that beauty with my creativity and camera in hand.

For week 8 of my 52 Week Project, I wanted a picture of the wind. After over 200 attempts, I realized that taking a picture of the wind proves to be a lofty task. In reality, I can only try to capture the effects of the wind. You may be thinking I'm crazy, but I'm not really even embarrassed that I tried for so long to do what any rational person would never think of trying because the process itself evolved into a precious Blessing in Disguise.

By focusing on the actual cause of the effects that I could see from the wind, I learned so much more about God. A lot of people like to say that God is like the wind--you can't see him, but you know he's there because you can feel him and see his effects on people and creation. With relative ease, we can capture the effects of the wind in the same way that we can often see the hand of God at work. However, I feel that it is exponentially crucial to the nourishment of our souls that we never give up seeking the face of God--or focusing on the wind--even though we may never understand his syncopated rhythm, his silence, or his beats in the breeze. We need not feel ashamed of pursuing something, someOne, that we cannot see; he's there; we can feel him. He blesses us through the process of seeking him, which to some may seem as crazy as trying to take a picture of the wind. It may seem impossible at first, but after 204 attempts, the truth stands steady: in Christ alone will we find our rest, our energy, and our purpose. Even when we feel like we're just chasing after the wind, God's promise remains.

"You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." ~ Jeremiah 29:13

Cloudy with a Chance of Joy

52 Week Project 2012 ~ 7/52

You could say with a great amount of accuracy that I had my head stuck in the clouds this week. I couldn't tell you why, but for some reason clouds have consumed much of my thoughts, hence, the winning cloud picture for week 7 of my 52 Week Project. Much of my time spent walking to and from class consisted of me gazing up toward the sky in wonder of this curious piece of God's creation. Some people like to think of God as a skilled artist who paints a new masterpiece on his canvas of sky each day. Others take a more scientific view, with concrete explanations for the variances of cloud formations and sunset hues. Either way I look at it, I can't help but marvel at the intelligence and creativity of Creator God.

I'm taking a class this semester in which we've read and discussed many essays on creation and related themes of creativity, conservation, and the like for the past three weeks. One of my main takeaways from this unit highlights the importance of valuing creation. I've always appreciated and enjoyed nature's beauty, but the past few weeks have stretched and deepened my appreciation and enjoyment even more so. In light of the fact that God passionately values his creation, every single part--he saw that all of it was very good--I have come to the understanding that there is more to appreciate, enjoy, and value than only creation's beauty. Although beauty speaks to the depths of my being, I'm discovering a deeper message tucked under the surface of my initial awestruck gaze.

Just as an artist puts his heart and soul into his masterpiece, I'm convinced that has God woven pieces of himself into the fabric of his creation. Each strand encompasses a distinctly divine meaning and uniquely expresses the very nature of God. Up close, we can examine the details of nature which speak volumes by themselves; stepping back, we try to see the whole picture, aided by the gift of photography, bird's eye view images, and our wildly vivid imaginations and memories of nature at its finest. Then we catch a glimpse of the greatness of God.

Taking an up close and personal look at clouds this week, I was blessed on a number of occasions to experience the joy and peace of seeing rays of glorious light beaming down from the sea of clouds above. For some reason, I always seem to acknowledge the presence of light more when clouds also fill in pieces of the picture. The combination of their contrast and reflective qualities with my human attraction and need for light brings me to consider why God would value clouds so much as to call them good. So often, we associate clouds with negativity, gloomy (usually headache-filled) days that block out our dearly loved sun. People usually steer away from others who have "cloudy" dispositions. Cloudy days can really put a damper on our plans. And yet, God declares clouds as good, for they serve the vital role of watering the earth which makes the plants grow, sustains creation, and brings new life.

In recognizing the necessity of clouds, I can see more clearly the necessity of trials. Like clouds, we don't particularly care for trials; both bring headaches, make us gloomy, tired, and desperate for the light. Like clouds, trials can put a big damper on our plans. Like clouds, thank God, trials also come and go. The storms of life may rage for a season, but when the winds settle, the skies will clear. Like clouds, trials can quench our dry and thirsty souls if we choose to dance in the rain instead of hide under our umbrellas of pride, pity, and self-dependence. Like clouds, trials can increase our sensitivity to our need for the Light. Like clouds, trials play an irreplaceable role in growing and sustaining us through the course of our lives.

I'm thankful for the fruit that trials can ultimately produce in us. I'm thankful for the Light of the world that breaks through, beaming rays of joy and peace in the darkness of our hardships. I'm thankful for all the blessings that God's Creation speaks.

My Daily Dose of Beauty

This past summer I invested in a new digital camera. Nothing too over-the-top, but complex enough that I'm still trying to figure out how to fully utilize all of its high-tech settings. After trying to capture our family vacation to Florida, our friend's wedding, a Philly's game or two, going to college, coming home for Fall Break, and the many memorable moments in between, I presently I find myself with the most precious little puppy sprawled across my lap on this year's Christmas Eve eve.

I absolutely love taking pictures. I love looking back and remembering. Making memories is one thing, but for me, holding on to them, appreciating and cherishing them, is of great value.

Out of the thousands of pictures I've taken since July, the vast majority has been of people and nature. Both of which radiate beauty from their core. But there's something about flowers in particular that has captured my eye.

Their vibrant color, delicate form, and breath of pureness, their complexity wrapped up in the beauty of simplicity, their ability to nourish, comfort, and inspire. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I love flowers. Along with the rest of nature's adornments, the eloquent beauty of a flower often provides me with my daily dose of beauty that my soul so desperately craves.

If we didn't need beauty in our lives, then God could've created a colorless, dreary, flowerless Earth in which we would feel satisfied living the mundane life. But if you stop for a minute amidst the chaos of last minute Christmas shopping, cooking, and cleaning, and look around, the beauty of creation speaks.

Its beauty invites us to linger, take it in, explore--and as we gaze upon the magnificent creation around us, we can catch a glimpse of the Creator's beauty as well, reminding us of the hope of eternity where more beauty awaits, ready to be unveiled upon our arrival.

This Christmas, don't busy yourself so much so that you miss your chance to stop and smell the roses (or the fresh pine and gingerbread cookies), to gaze upon the beauty all around you, and to draw near to and thank the God who encompasses the very essence of beauty and makes this season one worth celebrating.