tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88940142284654859832024-02-19T08:39:34.399-05:00ThreadsCaityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.comBlogger180125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-48278742763652815492016-01-01T02:30:00.001-05:002016-01-01T02:30:39.603-05:00The End of an Era<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;">Well guys, 2015 is dying, and no amount of resolutions is going to halt the passing of time, or the crazy unknowns that come with it. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;">This has been a year of chasms for me. Chasms I felt that I had to learn how to cross...but the more I agonized over these troubles, the wider the chasm got. But if I walk beside it for a moment, enjoying the terrifying vertigo of one arm dangling over the edge as I stroll, I start to notice something. The chasms become other things. Rivers. Forests. Mountains. Things I can deal with one step at a time - things that hold blessings, too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nearly three years ago, God drew me to Colorado against my will.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">...</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">and it became the best thing that ever happened to me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;">I've noticed that my dreams are coming true. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;">1. At my job, I get to act goofy, and yet still have an office and dress business-casual and be in charge. People call me Nugget. I get to be around kids all day. Maybe I see the worst sides of them (and believe me, I do!). But it's like I'm all grown up without ever having to grow up. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;">2. Remember those silly ambitions you had when you were a kid? Well, one of mine was to eat doughnuts all the time. Yep. Full-fledged career choice right there. And guess what? My second job right now is doughnut-making. Past Me would be so proud. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;">3. Living in Colorado, I'm almost guaranteed to have a white Christmas every year. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;">4. I have adventure. Life here is never boring - sometimes in fun, other times scary, ways. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;">It's not how I imagined my dreams coming true at all. But that's because God's been planning my life, not me. I honestly forgot that these were even some of my dreams. He doesn't really forget any details, does He?</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;">The biggest thing I've learned this year is what it means to love. I've been forced to realize that I can't love someone until I know something about them that I don't <i>want </i>to love. That's where it begins. And at that point, it no longer has anything to do with whether or not it's worth it for me, personally; it's whether or not I believe it's the right thing to do.<br /><br />Here's some flashbacks to some of my happiest moments from 2015. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;">From surfing to hiking to snowshoeing to learning to drive in the snow. Fighting my fear of heights by rock climbing. Learning what it means to be a leader and actually take responsibility. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;">Don't be afraid to go where you'd rather not and learn things you didn't choose to learn. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;"><i>The enchanting forests and rocky beaches of Oregon.</i></span></div>
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<i style="font-size: small;">Friends in all shapes and sizes. </i></div>
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<i style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;">A new tattoo.</i></div>
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<i style="font-size: 19.2px;">So many tiny humans.</i></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 19.2px;"><i>An incredible boyfriend that I couldn't ask more of. </i></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja9SObRoSBR_Wx7EixQk71MKsJYbWSNpaGzo89Xl4PH1dKmQJjs8jParzchWphyphenhyphenwusvQ1XAJIcqiLNBZwx4NgjfBvvyPx8566Vz585gR4QLLqnNGWxOUjNdTj9VcGVnRlLwVL_h9g4VOE/s1600/IMG_1752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja9SObRoSBR_Wx7EixQk71MKsJYbWSNpaGzo89Xl4PH1dKmQJjs8jParzchWphyphenhyphenwusvQ1XAJIcqiLNBZwx4NgjfBvvyPx8566Vz585gR4QLLqnNGWxOUjNdTj9VcGVnRlLwVL_h9g4VOE/s640/IMG_1752.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;"><i><br /></i></span>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;"><i>And the two people who made all of this possible: my parents. </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNgkOUx0a8kIFfwcIiT78fdPE5GhMzYPnt0LvVYKrkCcytQXWHdPY4J8yU_xP9OeFQtQo-ojMckj7dYhPT9DQ4dnw5gXvxmwld3qoVv9MKkqpM-yAA5fPcpC5vfkOM9WGRH15Lezfry6M/s1600/IMG_1659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNgkOUx0a8kIFfwcIiT78fdPE5GhMzYPnt0LvVYKrkCcytQXWHdPY4J8yU_xP9OeFQtQo-ojMckj7dYhPT9DQ4dnw5gXvxmwld3qoVv9MKkqpM-yAA5fPcpC5vfkOM9WGRH15Lezfry6M/s640/IMG_1659.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;">"When I lose my way,</span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;">And I forget my name,</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;">Remind me who I am.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;">In the mirror all I see,</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;">Is who I don't wanna be,</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;">Remind me who I am.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;">In the loneliest places,</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;">When I can't remember what grace is.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;">Tell me once again who I am to You:</span></div>
<span style="line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;">I'm the one You love. </span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 12.7619px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 12.7619px; text-align: center;">And that will be enough."</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
~Jason Gray</div>
Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-80406775373527919822015-01-01T01:59:00.000-05:002015-01-01T01:59:42.005-05:00New GoodbyesAlmost every year I can remember, I've stopped on New Year's Eve and made a list of resolutions. Or revelations or determinations or dreams or whatever I happen to call them that year. I love it. Not because it makes me successful or any cooler of a person. But because it's a time I can spend looking at what I have and imagining where I want to go and maybe, just maybe, learning again to love all the amazing pieces of my life.<br />
<br />
This year I haven't given it the slightest thought. I've got thirty-four minutes left of two-thousand fourteen...I wonder how many times I've smiled this year. How many times I spilled something down my shirt and managed to laugh instead of cry. I remember reading something once that went a bit like this: "Sometimes there are only two options left - to laugh, or to cry. And laughing just seems better right now." It doesn't mean you can handle what's been dished onto your plate. It doesn't mean that you even want to try.<br />
<br />
What it means is that you have decided to be alive. When it hurts. When it's dark outside. When your heart just shattered against the wall. When every dream you held close was torn out of your hands in a tornado-like wind.<br />
<br />
Every morning I hear my alarm and I turn into Scrooge, bah humbug-ing the day and trying to pretend that I have hours more to sleep. Something strange happens, though, when I prepare for the day ahead. Tentatively at first, and then boisterously, I find that people exist in such an uncommon way, that I can't help but laugh at their personalities, smile at their small conquests, roll my eyes at their drama, wince at their sorrows. Life (the part where we're breathing while at the same time thinking and probably focusing on some secret agenda, too) is not a cursory item.<br />
<br />
If life isn't cursory, than everything we do (while, you know, being alive) happens to be important. I know that this is all stemming from the crazy love that God has for me, but right now I can't dig that deep. All I know is that I am here, facing another year of the unknown, and I can barely walk straight. It's quite hilarious to watch from above, I'm sure.<br />
<br />
I don't have any resolutions this time around. The New Year is coming to get me, not the other way around. All I have is this precious second to exist in every way possible. What will you do as you breathe?Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-6139997842334285112014-04-14T16:49:00.003-04:002014-04-14T16:49:49.704-04:00This is HomeI've missed this.<br />
<br />
Drinking well-water straight from a faucet. Having my own quiet attic room to myself. Calling up friends and seeing their faces fifteen minutes after I hang up the phone. Driving down country roads, windows down, music just as loud as I want it to be.<br />
<br />
Yeah, I've missed being home.<br />
<br />
Home is where I feel the most comfortable...and yet I don't actually feel like I fit. There's faces and places that I'll not soon forget, but I'm a wanderer now, and that feeling won't soon disappear. Being a wanderer puts you on edge and sets you free; you're always waiting to dive into what's next, your thoughts always pulsing towards something else.<br />
<br />
Being home should be stable and warm and...it is. Mostly.<br />
<br />
But it's also a reminder. A reminder that the people I left here aren't quite the same anymore. A reminder that reality does exist and "America, land of the free" happens to be adding more rules to the list.<br />
<br />
It's a horrible thought that what I felt was a temporary, glorious lifestyle as a gypsy, can't stay that way. Either it has to be a permanent situation (living out of my suitcase, never really having a home), or my life has to start changing, and I need to "grow up" and get some <i>real knowledge</i> and a <i>real job</i> so I can pay for taxes. Obviously, none of that is very attractive to me. I've been doing quite well with my life, I thought. Spending 3-6 months in different places is not a bad deal.<br />
<br />
Do I have to focus bills and taxes? Those things are exactly why I never went to the university I wanted to go to - money, debt, taxes. I get that everyone else on this planet is struggling for survival. I understand that the world operates on money that no one really has. I don't want that to tear me down, though. I don't want to focus on that. When I look around me, I don't see freedom. I see bondage.<br />
<br />
And that's why I'm trying to create my own sort of freedom. I've chosen jobs and situations that don't put me in debt and that don't create bills for me. Honestly, the only thing I consistently pay for is my cell phone. Sure, I'm not at the top of the food chain, and it hasn't gotten me far. But look where I'm standing. I've gotten to travel. I've made so many friends. I am happy.<br />
<br />
College isn't bad. Neither is a "normal" life. But I am so incredibly glad that my life has been anything but normal. That God has led me in all sorts of random ways to all sorts of places.<br />
<br />
I suppose it comes down to that, doesn't it? That He hasn't led me to go back to school. He hasn't led me to seek out a successful life. And I'm okay with that.<br />
<br />
Ah, home. Where raindrops are plentiful and snow in April isn't shocking. Where the people are mostly friendly and all of them want to leave the state. Where fast food restaurants thrive and everything else struggles to get by. Ohio holds the people I most care about.<br />
<br />
I've missed this. I've only got two weeks to enjoy it.Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-14572760337318077392014-03-19T15:11:00.000-04:002014-03-19T15:11:08.007-04:00Adventures Never CeaseIt's been a little while since I've written. It's like I've been too busy living or something to write. Funny how that works.<br />
<br />
This adventure is almost over. I only have TWO WEEKS left in this beautiful place nestled between the mountains. Fourteen days of snow and mountain peaks and "seasonal friends" (I didn't even know that this was a thing until now) and snowboarding and rooming with my bestie and dorm life and teaching little rugrats how to enjoy the snow.<br />
<br />
Only a little while longer existing in this place.<br />
<br />
Only a little more time with these people who have become part of my life. And I may not see any of them again. Ever.<br />
<br />
It's scary how fragile and fast life is. How much time I spend wishing things were different or stressing about how they are...when time is spinning me out of control and I can't hold on. I need more reminders of how important every second is.<br />
<br />
My heart is full. I am incredibly sad to go. And yet I can also imagine the relief I will feel as I pack up the life I have here and return home, to familiar faces and places. My cozy attic-like bedroom. The green grass, abundant rainfall, and chirping birds of an Ohio spring. The goofiness and chaos and love that is my family. The friends that I've been horrible at communicating with while I've been here.<br />
<br />
This winter season has represented a lot of firsts for me. First time in a dorm (college life without the homework, check). First tattoo (...yeah, I did it). First boyfriend (sheesh how that word still sends shivers up my spine; I have never liked how that word seems to throw one's perception of life out the window). The awe I feel every time I look around me at the mountains. The crazy fear as I launched myself off of a jump I wasn't ready for. The giddy joy I felt in shredding through fresh powder.<br />
<br />
Sunburn and heartache and burning desire and dreams come true and snowflakes everywhere and a God who meets me in all of these places.<br />
<br />
As I'm struggling with saying goodbye, this verse keeps popping out at me, reminding me that it is time to move forward.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Don't remember the former things, and don't consider the things of old. Behold, <b>I will do a new thing</b>. It springs out now. Don't you know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert." <i>Isaiah 43:18-19</i> </span></blockquote>
<br />
I'm gonna need those paths in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. After my short hiatus in Arizona, Virginia, and Ohio, I'll have to kiss vacation goodbye and jump into a job that I honestly don't feel qualified for.<br />
<br />
This summer, starting in May, I'm going to be an Adventure Counselor at <a href="http://www.lvr.org/" target="_blank">Lutheran Valley Retreat</a>. It's a camp in the wilderness near Colorado Springs. And trust me, it will be all about God's beautiful creation. I'll be helping lead backpacking trips mostly, so lots of camping and hiking. Plus rock climbing (real rocks, real mountains - none of that wall climbing stuff) and ropes courses and horses and archery and...sorry, but it has been a lot for me to take in, too.<br />
<br />
I won't have cell phone service. I may or may not have internet on the weekends. Feel free to reach me with snail mail, guys, cause otherwise you won't be hearing from me!<br />
<br />
It's going to be the weirdest combination of full-on introvert time in the wilderness and constant, Caitlin-stretching time with kids and counselors alike.<br />
<br />
Yep. I'm just trading this winter adventure for an even crazier summer one. And this time I won't have my amazing bestie Lauren to keep me sane.<br />
<br />
I'm going it alone.<br />
<br />
Thank you, God, for never leaving me. For sticking around so that even when I'm walking a lonely path, You're there promising me I'm never really alone. And for always teaching me the best and hardest lessons.<br />
<br />
<i>The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. </i><br />
<i>I shall not. </i><br />
<i>I will not.</i><br />
<i>I will follow where You lead. </i><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
</blockquote>
Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-86957623359093129292014-02-14T22:55:00.000-05:002014-02-14T22:55:31.854-05:00I am YoursFor I am Yours<br />
And For I am Yours<br />
And You are mine<br />
<br />
What does this mean to me? How deep do these words penetrate? I know the words, I welcome their impossibly true presence in my life. But each profound facet of the meaning doesn't hit me yet. It comes at me day by day. When I least expect it, a piece of who He is clubs me over the head, and I am lost again in the revelation:<br />
<br />
I am Yours<br />
And You are mine<br />
<br />
Someone asked a question this week that tore me up inside. He said, "I think Christians need to reevaluate why they are for God." I couldn't answer that for myself. I couldn't form an outcome. Nothing would come to mind. There was just a wall of confusion. Because how could I not be for God? After all this time, after all He's done...how could I not? And then the other voice in my head kept asking, "Am I for God? Am I really?"<br />
<br />
I don't know why this question has never been asked before.<br />
<br />
But when my head finally cleared enough to give even a semblance of a reason, I came to this conclusion. Why am I for God? Because I need His love. <br />
<br />
I cannot replicate it or find it somewhere else. I cannot run from it. I cannot discover it. His love has come into my life - I did not ask for it. It came and overwhelmed me and addicted me all at once.<br />
<br />
I'll never be the same.<br />
<br />
I am His.<br />
He is mine.<br />
<br />
So when little things tear my gaze away from who He is, that crazy love always chases me down and brings me to my knees. He never lets me stray far.<br />
<br />
It's beautiful, this love.<br />
<br />
Of course it's appropriate that I'm talking about love on Valentine's Day. I mean, naturally ;) I am so afraid that earthly loves are going to distract me from Him (they can and they do). I...I have never dived so deep into risking hurt before, with love. It scares me.<br />
<br />
God has placed me here. Which is exactly why I know that I need not fear. His love casts out this fear and reminds me that everything, especially pain, is designed to draw me to Him.<br />
<br />
I am more than okay with this.Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-45261561342372569732014-01-22T16:31:00.002-05:002014-01-22T16:31:42.192-05:00A Little Story for Big ThoughtsI just jotted something down this week. It stemmed from listening to a song called "Boy With A Coin" by Iron and Wine.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/DDfM1byYLyY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Here is the story, my friends. Please by all means comment. I need to get back into writing (I have been neglecting it, let me tell you) and feedback - critical or otherwise - helps me keep going. I don't want to leave words behind in the snowdust of snowboarding on a mountain...<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Boy With A Coin</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><br />
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> If he'd found it on the street, that
would make sense. If someone had handed it to him from a generous
pocket, the situation would seem much more plausible. But as it was
(or rather, is) the boy seems a bit thoughtless. Careless. Confused.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> His name is Benjamin. I tell you this
not because it is important, but because I want you to see him as you
would a friend, acquaintance. Someone who's face and name you know
and care about, if only because he seems to genuine and innocent to
let anything bad happen to him.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> Benjamin worked hard. Every day there
was some new job for him to do. In a world where little boys had
nothing to their name, his was the life of a drifter. From shop to
shop he begged for work, scrounging a living. No one begrudged him
this life, though; he worked as hard as any of the grown men. Daily
he earned more than food. He earned respect.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> It was on one of his odd jobs that he
tripped on a loose cobblestone and unearthed a large coin. At first
he could hardly believe it. It covered the whole palm of his hand.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> It was not a penny or a dime or any
other such worthless piece of metal. No, this was a day and age when
metal in your pocket meant more than any piece of paper crumpled in
your wallet. This coin could have bought a weeks' worth of meals –
in the boy's case, many more than that, as he usually existed upon
bread crusts. He could have done most anything with this treasure.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> The world opens to your hand when you
have money. That's the way it works. We all know this.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> Maybe the boy knew, and did not
understand.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> He crammed it into his pocket and left
it there. His face was aglow but his heart could only stare. True
dreams are not of money (though they may be of wealth); true dreams
are of beautiful things. Of adventure and love and desire and
ambition and achievement of great things. Dreams take us away when
our feet are shackled to the floor.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> He walked and walked till he reached
the pier. There the sea breeze lifted the hair from his forehead and
tore some of the stench from his grimy clothes. The world seemed to
open before him. The see filled his vision, the horizon seemed closer
than before, music sprang up in his ears. Without looking at it, he
pulled the coin from his pocket and rubbed it smooth and clean.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> He held it up above his head, watching
the last rays of sunlight catch the gold color and turn it
brilliantly orange and yellow.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> What was he to do with it?
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> He tossed it into the sea.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> And then he wished.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> His eyes were wide open and the sunset
over the ocean reflected brilliantly in them. His fists were
clenched. His heart was throbbing with the idea of his dream being
realized. That was all he needed to do. He turned and walked away.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><br />
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<i> * </i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><br />
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> A sailor watched from the edge of his
master's ship. His eyes drew together, then widened, as the scene
played out before him. As soon as the boy's back was turned he ran,
eyes fixed on the tiny ripples in the water where the coin had sunk.
Money was tight, and not only for poor little orphan boys. He leapt
out over the water and at the last second curled his body into a
dive, fingers outstretched for the prize.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> Later, the papers reported a drowning.
No one ever knew that it was the sailor's feeble graspings for
treasure had brought him to his death.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<i> *</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> I cannot tell you what the boy wished
for. Then it will not come true, you know. He never told me (though I
guessed and I am sure that I am right). All I can say is that his
wish does not involve anything that we have mentioned already.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> What if he had saved the coin? He
could certainly have made great progress towards his wish. Perhaps
even achieved it wholly.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> What if he had shared the coin with
another, and brightened their day? He could have brought joy and
eased someone's hunger, supposedly. He could have even given it to
the sailor and saved that man's reckless life.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> But he didn't do those things. Instead
he wished big and he wished wholly. Everything in him wanted this to
come true. And it didn't matter that he was throwing away his
livelihood. He was gaining life. Life such as he wasn't sure he could
get.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> But it was worth throwing all away to
wish for it.
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><br />
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> Just a boy with a coin. And then a boy
without a coin. And does it all matter? That all depends on whether
you wish you had the coin or not. Or whether you think you know what
he wished for. </i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Tell me: what one wish is worth wishing with
everything you own? Wishing beyond what you could ever hope to gain?</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> Tell me, please. Tell me what this
story means. </i></div>
Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-34808804289873528552014-01-14T18:27:00.003-05:002014-01-14T18:27:26.942-05:00Waves at My FeetRocking the boat.<br />
Swimming upstream.<br />
Going against the current.<br />
Treading water.<br />
Riding into a storm.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Oh, to be like You</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Give all I have</b> just to know You...</i></div>
<br />
Every morning, there is something new. Another thought, another plan, another trouble...another wave crashing against my shore, pulling at my feet, drawing more grains of sand into the depths where I cannot see.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>There's a ragin' sea right in front of me</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Wants to pull me in, bring me to my knees</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>So let the waters rise if You want them to</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I will follow You.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> I will follow You. </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I will follow You.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I've always loved the ocean. The sound is my therapy. The smell is intoxicating. I love standing with my toes at the edge of the line where sand and water meet, where foam collects and shells clump together, and I just let the waves lick gently at my toes. I love being on that edge. It is exhilarating for me to be at that point where you are half in and half out.<br />
<br />
I feel the same at the edge of a cliff.<br />
<br />
I feel the same as I stand at the cornice of a mountain.<br />
<br />
I feel the same when I am starting anything new, teetering on the point of just-arrived and being thrown into I-live-here-now.<br />
<br />
Who wouldn't want to stand there forever? Digging the view and knowing that you made it to that point, but never having to go any further?<br />
<br />
But you're supposed to jump. That's how it works.<br />
<br />
I have never jumped.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">i have never jumped. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">God has recently convicted me of this sad truth: I have never, ever put myself (heart, soul, mind, and body) WHOLEHEARTEDLY into anything. I don't really know how to. I am not a person that is truly passionate. There are things I like, things that I care about. Yet I don't know how to sacrifice for those things. I don't know how to <i>improve </i>because I can't seem to get past a shallow understanding. Music, snowboarding, writing, reading, art, blogging, cooking...any number of things in my life that I <i>love</i>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have labeled it many things. I go with the flow. I'm a dabbler. I have a split personality (not really. but kinda, yes). I know how to be a peacemaker (because I play both sides). I just have a lot of excuses for only going halfway through life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I went repelling. In case you don't know, that's where you are in a small harness and you're holding a rope and you "walk" (I use the term lightly, since in my opinion walking usually happens on horizontal, stable surfaces) - yeah, you walk <i>straight off the edge of a rock/cliff...</i><b>backwards. </b>I know I'm using a lot of emphasis right now but I don't think it's too much because seriously. Walking backwards off a cliff is terrifying. Even if it's a small one. There's something in my brain that says, "This is a bad idea," and something in my stomach that goes, "I'm done for." It's why roller coasters still get us and thrill seekers exist. Our bodies crave and fear this insanity. </span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><span style="font-size: 20px;"><i>Turn my eyes to see Your face</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><span style="font-size: 20px;"><i>As all my fears surrender</i></span></span></div>
<br />
Then I went to the top, basically, of a mountain. Not as high as you can go, but as high as I had ever gone before. And I stood there and looked around and went, "I'm at the edge of the world, and I'm about to jump off." Me and my snowboard leapt off the edge and tumbled into powder. It was amazing.<br />
<br />
God's showing me something about waves in the ocean. Precipices unawares. Free-falling. He's telling me that, yes, it's okay to be still sometimes. But I need to be ready. Because at any moment, He could tell me to jump.<br />
<br />
I normally make New Years' Resolutions. Every single year. It's one of my favorite things to do: curl up with my journal and look at the past year and scribble away all my new dreams. I make lists and plans and I basically decide to change my life. Does it ever really make a difference? If I'm being honest, no. But I like to do it anyway.<br />
<br />
This year, I didn't do that. Something in me was just done pretending that I can change me without help. I don't need more lists to become the person I should be.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I need God.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I <i>need</i> Him.</span></div>
<br />
So instead of a page full of resolutions, I just offered up a single, simple prayer: <i>God, I'm ready. I'm all in. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
That's all I could say before I was choked with emotion. What if...oh, there are so many things He could ask of me. I am afraid. Afraid to live for Him and Him only.<br />
<br />
But I want it.<br />
<br />
<i>I will fight to follow</i><br />
<i>I will fight for love</i><br />
<i>Throw my life forever</i><br />
<i>To the triumph of the Son</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
No matter where He takes me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyzWBsPQ157TYcQYi1adOKWulQbuJ-u6TYCXfTK6wY7n6L7SvVofCqc76fjHn3e4zg6JDx0r1dYVeQIxahl65qNEOwmep43V4PZzrQ1gb8YDEpQumpyPtZIBZARtLYE7gqlcxJ4dbl1tw/s1600/1496666_10151893596738173_2135433642_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyzWBsPQ157TYcQYi1adOKWulQbuJ-u6TYCXfTK6wY7n6L7SvVofCqc76fjHn3e4zg6JDx0r1dYVeQIxahl65qNEOwmep43V4PZzrQ1gb8YDEpQumpyPtZIBZARtLYE7gqlcxJ4dbl1tw/s1600/1496666_10151893596738173_2135433642_n.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Songs referenced:</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Let the Waters Rise </i>by <i>Mikeschair</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Oceans </i>by <i>Hillsong United</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Scandal of Grace </i>by <i>Hillsong United</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Love is War </i>by <i>Hillsong United</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span>Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-1486507732820061482013-12-27T18:18:00.001-05:002013-12-27T18:18:22.006-05:00Curious BrainpowerWhat does it mean to be tired?<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>Pulse slowing, eyelids lowering. </i></div>
<div>
<i>Unfocused dreams...</i></div>
<div>
<i>Weak and unable to face</i></div>
<div>
<i>What one cannot ignore. </i><br />What does it mean to be lost?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>If not all who wander are lost, then where is the line between "found" and "lost"? To what do we look for direction? I found a sign, it pointed me here. But that doesn't mean I'm where I'm supposed to be. </i><br /><br />What does it mean when one person can't stand to be around other people?<br /><br /><i>Thoughts trigger emotions. Smiles and words exchanged and then suddenly...the connection becomes something undesirable. A shift in air pressure and we feel the need to be alone.</i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
I'm starting to see a pattern here. Everything is in my mind. What happens around me is background noise. The thing that really matters is my reaction - and that stems from my perception of the world. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You've seen it before. Someone looks at the sky and sees darkness. Another sees a million stars. A person craves chocolate, another wouldn't eat a candy bar if you shoved it down their throat. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That's what's so cool about meeting new people. You get to figure out what they revolve around, what makes them tick, what they are trying to achieve. It's a mystery. A puzzle. People are amazing.<br /></div>
<div>
That difference in people is something I call <i>perspective</i>. The eyes, windows of the soul, see the world and judge it constantly. Our brains are constantly processes and labeling the information we take in around us. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And I've realized that sometimes where I see a wall, someone else sees a challenge. Where I see a nasty ditch, someone else sees possibility. And the crazy thing is, that ditch or that wall could be <i>both</i>: a challenge and a dead-end, a bad fall <i>and </i>a close call. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Just because I think something is impossible, doesn't mean that it really is. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My brain has the power to make me think and feel that it is impossible. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Which means that I control what I think. Let me say that again: <i>I control what I think</i>. An interesting power to have, isn't it? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What's a wall that you've hit recently? What's something that has broken you down? What's something that you just can't see a way around? </div>
Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-66033764324752411522013-12-14T13:51:00.000-05:002013-12-14T13:51:02.299-05:00ThirstyThere's a lot of meanings broiling inside that word. Some good, some not so good. We claim thirst as a need. We humans have our "natural instincts" tucked away out of sight, but they are still there. And that means that we are thirsty all the time - thirsty not just for one thing, but for <i>everything</i>. Except that we can't have everything.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That means that we come up empty a lot. </span><br />
<br />
It starts to feel like something is wrong with life, like there's an off-kilter part of earth, and that's the part that you're standing on. It took me a minute to see past this and realize that (duh) it's simply because I'm not drinking the right thing.<br />
<br />
I like to taste a little bit of everything, you know. A little spicy dish here, something sweet there, a sip of someone's wine. A moment in the choking heat and overwhelming happiness of Thailand. A stroll down the music-saturated world of Nashville. <i>A gasp of fresh Colorado mountain air. </i><br />
<br />
It's easy to just keep going. To meet someone and make a memory...and then move on. What's harder is sticking around. Staying at a job that's starting to get static. Sticking with a group of friends even though you think you know everything about them already.<br />
<br />
But if I treat life like a buffet, I feel like I can do it all and just not stop.<br />
<br />
Sometimes what's needed is for me to <span style="font-size: x-large;">remember my thirst.</span> To realize that I'm hungry even when I thought I was eating. Especially here at Copper, when literally everything seems designed to drain moisture right out of me. In the beginning I was doing so well! As I started getting deeper into the culture and higher into the mountains, however, I forgot to drink the water more often.<br />
<br />
As long as I keep busy and push forward in my momentum, I don't even notice that I'm dehydrated.<br />
<br />
But as soon as I <span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">stop and stare </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">at these four walls, I collapse. I notice my strained muscles, my dry throat, my empty stomach, my exhaustion. That's when it hits me:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I HAVEN'T BEEN DRINKING WATER. </span><br />
<br />
Physically speaking, I mean. And also...spiritually. My soul gets dry faster than my mouth. But this dryness, this ache - it's <i>good</i>.<br />
<br />
Ever notice how our "primal" needs (those for food, water, rest...yes, we have to go over Maslow's hierarchy of needs as part of our ski school training..) seem to be the strongest? How that need for lunch shuts down every other voice in your head? Yeah. That.<br />
<br />
When you start to feel that draw, that need, for God, then you know it's as it should be. Even if it means that I haven't been drinking enough of Him in, it means that I <i>need </i>Him. Crave Him.<br />
<br />
So I'm taking this moment to pause and feel my thirst. Then I'll take a huge drink, guzzling it down with abandon.<br />
<br />
Isn't that a great word?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">abandon.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">it speaks of a heart let loose upon the world. of a soul set free from chains. of a bird soaring through a tunnel and into sunshine. of a free-fall into an unknown. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This is what it means to be with God. This is what it means to "wait upon the Lord" to "walk in the light" and to follow Him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Abandon who you are. Abandon what you want. Abandon every tie to this world and fall into grace. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">That's exactly where He'll find you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<i>God, You know me. You know </i><i><b>me</b>. Come and show me the meaning of these things. </i>Psalm 139.Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-64426733482346529392013-12-04T18:48:00.002-05:002013-12-04T18:48:51.210-05:00hidingThere are days when I just want to stand under the hot water of the shower for hours, hiding on the other side of the crappy yellow shower curtain, not speaking to anyone all day.<br />
<br />
There are nights when I can't fall asleep because I am too full of thoughts...and whispered voices that draw me in. That moment where reality and fantasy no longer have boundaries and they fuse together snowflakes melting on my breath.<br />
<br />
I don't know why. I don't have an explanation for the moments when I just want to burst into tears. I don't have an answer for the questions I ask myself.<br />
<br />
Ah, but here is the tricky thing: I <i>know </i>the answers.<br />
<br />
But sometimes I don't believe them.<br />
<br />
Darkness falls and stars shine brightly for all to see. Everything closes in on me and I become someone - something - else. I can be anyone...and I can be nothing.<br />
<br />
Do you ever just want to sit and stare at the world for a while? Does it ever cross your mind that maybe you've been moving to much, and it's time you stopped? Do you ever wish you could step out of your own skin for just a moment and wander in the world doing nothing but seeing and breathing?<br />
<br />
Remember. That's a big word for me lately.<br />
<br />
Remember who God is. Remember that the best is yet to come. Remember that this, too, shall pass.<br />
<br />
Remember that I don't have to know that answers to survive.<br />
<br />
<i>God is good. </i><br />
<i>Therefore, it is well with my soul.</i>Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-30250010029700331702013-11-27T19:48:00.000-05:002013-11-27T19:48:27.289-05:00The LeopardessI am always asking Aslan why I can't return to Narnia by the same way I came the first time. I am always wishing that I could have the same adventure again.<br />
<br />
But He draws me away each time and reminds me that nothing is ever the same. Ever.<br />
<br />
But there is, however, always a theme. God knows that I love stories and themes and strands that overlap and connect with each other.<br />
<br />
My first adventure [I suppose I have had many, but by my first I mean my time spent in <a href="http://livinginkscrawls.blogspot.com/2013/08/inhibitions.html" target="_blank">Thailand</a>] was all about walking with the feet of a hobbit.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilivO3j5uLS_GXvxR7TERVFokzZDeT7a8_mmV6SVqWspRNd2176qDsN5YpyvSq102x2xhYJSF7ALuZ6PvZi1KjLyxLkgJ_Sc8_GZcI5Pv8Sbt4cWir7mPfuCap8GC09_93Q5MPyTWPmtU/s1600/3c84ebd4a8e368e0bd0cd915687f77f8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilivO3j5uLS_GXvxR7TERVFokzZDeT7a8_mmV6SVqWspRNd2176qDsN5YpyvSq102x2xhYJSF7ALuZ6PvZi1KjLyxLkgJ_Sc8_GZcI5Pv8Sbt4cWir7mPfuCap8GC09_93Q5MPyTWPmtU/s640/3c84ebd4a8e368e0bd0cd915687f77f8.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>From a lovely place called Pinterest</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I took my copy of <i>The Hobbit </i>with me, and I literally dug into the adventure in a new way. I made it my own. I <i>became </i>Bilbo. I felt exactly like him: lost, surrounded by an unknown race of people, continuously missing the comforts of home, feeling completely inadequate for this adventure that I'd rashly jumped into. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfUdCQkXtwSDmNr1BQEwLsGCTpFLl8r-gcYDp128ej2gY08lAWhnGJ0opMH8qQqYL7Ix6DIKYwuYN043b0bo-1T_Y_t-s84WVoZUjC9HSeVlpPUNJZpAG9wdX2RLEvZMF2NL8-4QKoZuM/s1600/ffdce1c37896da7ef2a250a09e31c1b7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfUdCQkXtwSDmNr1BQEwLsGCTpFLl8r-gcYDp128ej2gY08lAWhnGJ0opMH8qQqYL7Ix6DIKYwuYN043b0bo-1T_Y_t-s84WVoZUjC9HSeVlpPUNJZpAG9wdX2RLEvZMF2NL8-4QKoZuM/s640/ffdce1c37896da7ef2a250a09e31c1b7.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Courtesy of Pinterest</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Somehow, God had deemed me perfect for the time in Thailand, and I ended up having a blast, meeting tons of new people, and learning things about myself that I never would have otherwise. And, hey, I'm still alive ;)<br />
<br />
This time I am calling my "second adventure." I'm strapped into a place I never thought I'd be, surrounded by mountains taller than anything I've ever seen. <i>I live in Colorado</i>.<br />
<br />
I brought <i>The Hobbit </i>with me again this time, thinking how much it had comforted me on my last adventure (always with the appropriate lines of, "how dearly Bilbo missed his hobbit-hole" and whatnot). But the funny thing is that - although I definitely feel like a Bilbo again - that theme, that story, doesn't really apply in this situation.<br />
<br />
Through various coincidences, I have come to view myself as having a Narnia adventure. And not only that, but I am a leopardess, walking these snowy paths.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirvUQz4ynOvIi0qbE7lDuiKbYDSOx-FSlV8-BhHDbpzUSNkZiv43GDQIJ1X6HPEBa74ysfyi_8MGdPi-J553J2K1UfZuKXriRa8cYamS7sEOliLNgcwRH55G36kjaZFfygdk34hCMwS7Q/s1600/1459184_10201910076827124_1300337668_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirvUQz4ynOvIi0qbE7lDuiKbYDSOx-FSlV8-BhHDbpzUSNkZiv43GDQIJ1X6HPEBa74ysfyi_8MGdPi-J553J2K1UfZuKXriRa8cYamS7sEOliLNgcwRH55G36kjaZFfygdk34hCMwS7Q/s640/1459184_10201910076827124_1300337668_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lauren and I, besties for lifeeee</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I have these rad snowboard boots that are covered in leopard-print. I have slipper-boots and now a neck-gator to match. I've never been much for animal prints; they usually say <i>flashy </i>and <i>gaudy </i>and, occasionally, <i>slutty</i>. To be honest, I don't know why I am suddenly obsessed with leopard stuff.<br />
<br />
As weird as it sounds, I think it's a God thing.<br />
<br />
Because I'm starting to see that He wants me to be a Leopardess here: wild, crazy, different, unafraid to show my colors, true to what I have been created to be.<br />
<br />
He's teaching me to run madly, chasing His voice. To be untamed in a world full of cages and chains. To proclaim freedom on this earth. [Don't ask me how that came from leopard-print boots. I'm pretty sure I couldn't make that up.]<br />
<br />
I can no longer cling to home. To safety. To a place that I can call my own. I am a drifter, a wanderer, a follower of Christ. There's no turning back now.<br />
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My life is one great tangle of crazy coincidences these days. The people I've met, the things I've done, the clothes I've bought, even right down to the food I've eaten...it's all been full of blessings and surprises. And I'm starting to see a theme here: Lauren and I are here to love. We are here to be shooting stars playing in the sky. Wild cats frolicking in the snow and fighting for what we believe in.</div>
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Lights.</div>
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Free, bold.</div>
Insane.<br />
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Lovers.</div>
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Jesus freaks.</div>
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I believe in God, and that is why this tangle of threads is not a coincidence. It is a purposeful plan. He sweeps me off my feet with His timing...His gifts...His lessons.</div>
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<i>Here I stand, Lord, praying that You are using me, even when I cannot see the plan. Even when I lose track of who You have asked me to be. I am the painting, You are Painter.</i> <i>I will let myself become that picture. </i></div>
Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-30231345069033241012013-11-23T19:12:00.000-05:002013-11-23T19:12:43.754-05:00No High like the Most HighLet's face it, we all get high. We all have our things that make us deliriously happy or pleased or relaxed. Maybe it's our favorite TV show that we just have to curl up and watch alone. Maybe it's a beer at the end of a hard day's work. Maybe it's Pinterest. Or chocolate. Driving fast.<br />
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For me, it's food. I let food get the better of me nearly every two hours. Novels are another thing that rock my world.</div>
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My point is, we get all up in the faces of people on drugs, but coffee is pretty darn addictive, too, and so is everything else on the planet. We humans like being consumed by things. We naturally become addicted. <span style="font-size: large;">Think about it: anything can become an addiction.</span><br />
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It's interesting to think about this, when everyone around me is spending their free time getting drunk or *ahem* high on marijuana. Definitely something I'm not used to dealing with/being around.<br />
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How am I supposed to act? React?<br />
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Honestly, God tells us to love. God tells us not to judge. [He also says pretty clearly that getting drunk is sinful.] But we're all sinners. I'm a sinner. And I shouldn't look down on the people here because they happen to smoke weed. I'm not any better than they are if I <i>don't </i>smoke weed.<br />
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Although, let's be honest here, I'd like to think that I am. </div>
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I'm not condoning drugs by any means. All I'm asking is that we take a step back and look at the whole picture. What did Jesus do when He was on earth? He spent time with the lowest people on earth, spent time loving them.<br />
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And me? I can choose to get on high on the Most High, my Father. </div>
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Just thoughts. What do you think about all of this?<br />
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What's weird is that I am in this cool place. This place that is beyond my former imaginings and strikes me speechless. It's perfect in so many ways, and imperfect in a million others, and I can't get over the feeling that...it's my <i>home</i>.<br />
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But amidst those feelings of joy and beauty and awe, I am prickled with discontent. Jealousy. Disappointment. Inadequacy. None of which are coming from God. Yet I listen to these voices as if they are my own, and I agree with them.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Let me tell you something. I live at the foot of a real live mountain (more than one, actually). I live in a college-dorm-style room with one of my bestest friends in the world, and she makes me laugh every day of my life. I get to shred in powdery snow for <i>fun </i>and <i>as a job.</i> I meet new people every day and I spend a few hours enjoying sunshine on my face. </span><br />
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This place is amazing. I have no reason to complain. Yet I do. A little messed up, don't you think?<br />
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What have you found yourself complaining about lately? What blessings do you need to stop and be thankful for?<br />
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<i>{There's no high like the Most High, guys}</i></div>
Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-17148207396530894092013-11-18T16:11:00.003-05:002013-11-18T16:11:53.361-05:00Shredder Girl, Episode 4: maybe I should stop writing long titles like this...There are some things that you just can't describe. The first time you hear birds chirp in the spring. The smell of home after a long journey away. The way it feels to ride a rollercoaster. So many things in life that just seem to be beyond words.<br />
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Riding a mountain is one of those things. People keep asking me what makes Colorado different, or why it's so amazing so far. Honestly, I can give them reasons, but I can't actually <i>describe </i>it. The word I keep using is <span style="font-size: large;">breathless</span>.<br />
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I've probably used that word over 20 times since moving here. But I seriously do feel breathless - partially because of the high altitude, which makes even walking downstairs become a breathless moment, and partially because of the fact that this place is so beyond what I could ever imagine.<br />
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But God is speaking to me through the awe and the breathlessness. He's showing me that it's good that I realize my own weakness. That I need to be humble.<br />
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Have you ever watched <i>Inception</i>? It's an amazing movie that kind of rips apart your idea of dreams, time, and...ideas. One of those movies that you can't zone out while you watch it or you'll miss everything. I kind of adore those types of movies, the ones that make you cock your head and go, "Wait...what?"<br />
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Anyway, I did have a point in bringing up that movie. There's a scene in the movie that just keeps coming to me. Every time I look at the mountains and I can't breathe because they're <i>real</i>. Every time I realize that <i>I work and live on this mountain </i>and there's no way I deserve it, and no way I'm a good enough rider to be here. Each time, this line just hits me like a well-placed piece of bacon:<br />
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"You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling."<br />
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And I smile when I think of it because it's like words straight from God. He's the one who put me here. He's saying, "Stop thinking about your weaknesses. I am strong. That is all you need to know. I put you here to play, laugh, enjoy, and work - in My name. Don't be afraid to dream bigger than you ever have before."<br />
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I also laugh when these words come to mind, because the scene in the movie is one where Joseph Gordon-Levitt is shooting at bad guys with a little machine gun (or something), and Tom Hardy, broad and masculine, steps up with a rocket launcher and snidely remarks, "You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling."<br />
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So if you're struggling in the pits or living high off the hog (don't make fun of my usage of cliches), remember that God has plans bigger than even your imagination can see. His plans, thoughts, words, and ways are so much higher and bigger and crazier than ours! Don't trap yourself by your own boundaries; be freed to follow this crazy God of ours.<br />
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<b>Isaiah 55:8-9<br />Psalm 61:2</b><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Don't be afraid to let yourself be breathless...even if that means risking your life. </span></i>Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-75938010151463374452013-11-15T16:37:00.000-05:002013-11-15T16:37:33.720-05:00Last of the Autumn Thoughts<i>A post I wrote a few weeks ago, before leaving Ohio...</i><br />
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I'd rather die like Christ than live like me.<br />
I'd rather live as one without a name than live my life trying to become a name.<br />
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It <i>is </i>warm out, despite the wind that rushes to my heart. Yet there's a chilly expectancy in the air. The cold is not far behind. Winter is near.<br />
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Fire burns. Just look outside, where the trees are being slowly eaten up by fiery and brilliant colors. Isn't it glorious to watch? <span style="font-size: large;">Have you ever thought that all this beauty and impossible color combinations are the signs of an intense death? </span>These leaves have such a short life. From buds in the spring, to a short season of young and green, and finally to crunchy dead fibers in the fall.<br />
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Somehow it is perfect, though, the way the leaves go out with a bang.<br />
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We rejoice each autumn season to see the leaves die (er, to get pumpkin spice lattes and wear scarves again...).<br />
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Maybe we should mirror this happiness in dead leaves with a joy in Christ's death. In our own deaths to this world. How glorious it is to die, for everything I thought I owned to fade away, wither, perish beneath the light of the Son. To wrap myself in His glorious light and never return to the garments of the dark.<br />
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This autumn has been different than the ones before it. Instead of a flash of lightning and a forest fire that devours the leaves, this year's flame started out small. It grew slowly, crackling leaves into bright colors.<br />
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But the leaves refused to die.<br />
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They stuck around, their color deepening. A slow death. Red turned to auburn. Yellow turned to gold.<br />
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A true test by fire.<br />
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<i>Oh, Father, may you test me in the same way. Burn away my lusts and desires till all that's left is a heart willing to do Your will. </i>Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-17358237484651433622013-11-13T18:28:00.000-05:002013-11-13T18:28:05.592-05:00Shredder Girl, Episode 3: Arrival of the FittestSeriously though. Guess who the fittest happens to be.<br />
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Not us.<br />
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Everyone here is chill. And amazing. Okay, I take back the amazing part. Because I'm not sure about Colorado people yet. They're interesting, to be sure. But I feel like everyone here can out-shred us (or at least me) any day, on any board.<br />
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I am not going to survive unless I gain some serious snowboarding skill.<br />
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We arrived last night, breathless at the craziness and beauty of this journey. But now a slice of reality is on the menu, not least of which is the idea of money.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Paying for you own toilet paper really sets you down a few notches, let me tell you.</span><br />
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I will never, ever take a jar of peanut butter or a refrigerator or toothpaste for granted ever again (and you can remind me of this statement when I look like I'm getting a little too proud, okay?). Grocery shopping is no longer fun. It is a maze of outrageous prices and food that I will never eat again.<br />
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Just kidding. It's not that awful. I still don't like paying for stupid things like toilet paper and silverware, though. Maybe it would be cheaper to invest in a bidet...<br />
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The mountain is waiting right outside our door and tomorrow...we ride! I am so pumped. And also completely terrified <i>out of my mind </i>because I dont' know how to snowboard on a mountain. I don't know what I'm doing. Plus, I'll be riding a brand-spanking-new board, which is bound to give me a few swerves.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I made it here.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm supposed to be here.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And God is faithful.</span><br />
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I miss everyone back home and I'm not sure how I feel about things here. But it's exciting and demands a bit of awe, this place.<br />
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Welcome to adulthood, Caitlin. Welcome to the world of opportunities - and choices.<br />
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A few notes about where we are:<br />
1. The room is narrow and cramped. But we turned the two beds into bunk beds, success!<br />
2. Jet lag combined with altitude changes is turning me into lead weight.<br />
3. The people here are either riding or chilling. What else is there to do?<br />
4. I haven't seen the drugs yet. Who knows when that will spring at me. Because yeah, they're legal here.<br />
5. Rugs and bright blankets make a room home. I love my roomie's style <3 p="">6. There's a bunch of movies and books and board games available to borrow from the front desk.<br />
7. We get a free "Thanksgiving" dinner tomorrow night.<br />
8. Laundry. More money. Quarters, anyone?<br />
9. We've already met 3 people from Ohio.<br />
10. So far, no one seems to be talking weird. Bummer. I was hoping to learn knew lingo.</3>Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-72632929375735352602013-11-11T21:19:00.000-05:002013-11-11T21:19:00.868-05:00Shredder Girl, Episode 2: Ready...Set...Exactly 8 months ago to the day, I was stepping on a plane that would take me to Bangkok, Thailand (we had to stop at Chicago and Seoul, South Korea first, but we eventually made it). It was a cold, drearily rainy morning and we had to drive all the way to Cleveland to catch our flight. And hopping on a plane to Thailand came with a heck of a lot of prerequisites, let me tell you.<br />
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But somehow I managed to pack, prepare, and survive the 20-hour flight and arrived, breathless and terrified, on a piece of land that was utterly unfamiliar to me.<br />
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It seems like so long ago now. The friends I made there seem worlds away. The crazy thing is, my Thailand cohort, <a href="http://www.bethanyeder.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Bethany</a>, is back in Thailand right now <i>as we speak.</i> She moved there - for a year. I have a feeling she may never call America home again. Thailand completely captured her heart.<br />
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But while Bangkok serenaded all of my senses to the max, it didn't speak to me like a homeland. Instead it spoke to me of a forever foreign and breathtaking land. A place of beauty and kindness, riveting views and astonishing people, and of course, the heat that suffocates as it caresses. I loved it. Yet...it only inspired me to see <i>more. </i>To travel again and again and again and again.<br />
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Apparently my great thirst for travel is already to be assuaged, for tomorrow I step out on yet another grand journey with this God of mine. He stretched out His hand and offered me another plane trip (only this one not quite as far away). Another temporary move to a new, thrilling place.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>C O L O R A D O .</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
I barely breathe the word, letting its syllables slide off my tongue and linger in the air, where they expand into slides of sunbeams and fluttering snowflakes and ponds that mirror the incredible beauty of majestic mountains.<br />
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God has asked me to move there for 6 months. And I get to snowboard while I'm at it. <br />
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I can hardly believe it! It doesn't seem real! Even though my bags are packed - FINALLY (and don't get me started on the outcome of all that backbreaking labor) - my mind just can't wrap itself around the fact that this is actually <i>happening</i>...to <i>me</i>.<br />
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And you know what? A part of me doesn't want to go. That part is scared of stepping onto unknown ground, of losing my footing (yet again) and free-falling into God's hands. It's scared of losing things and comfortable jobs and, most of all, people.<br />
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Saying goodbye has never been easy for me.<br />
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I have been so blessed. I am being so blessed. This crazy God that I am trying to love but only succeeding in betraying, this God who adores His creation and lavishes His love and mercy upon it, this God who is everywhere and knows everything and is beyond what I can understand...this God whom I barely know has already done so much for me.<br />
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Besides giving my dreams of travel literal wings with which to take flight and surrounding me with people who love me, He also did something that blows my mind even more.<br />
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My Creator died for me.<br />
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And somehow that huge cosmic idea of God dying for me and then choosing to spend His time and energy on loving me just blows my mind so much but <i>I still turn around and look at the fake glitz of earth and think that that's where the good stuff is</i>. I see good things in my life and what do I do? I claim them as my rights. They are my reward. I deserve them.<br />
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Ha. Puny little Caitlin thinks that she deserves something. Isn't that sweet? Dear immortal that dreams, you deserve <i>nothing</i> from this world. Even less do you deserve something from your Maker.<br />
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I am breathless.<br />
I am weightless.<br />
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How can there be life better than this? I know that God exists. I know that He loves me.<br />
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And I am learning to know Him.<br />
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From the hills of Ohio (and <b>soon </b>the mountains of Colorado!),<br />
<i>~Caitlin Marie </i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'll spread my wings</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And I'll learn how to fly</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Though it's not easy to tell you goodbye</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I gotta take a risk</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Take a chance</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Make a change</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And breakaway...</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-small;">(BreakawaybyKellyClarkson)</span>Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-88579332237078690922013-11-09T21:14:00.002-05:002013-11-09T21:22:26.291-05:00Struggle Bus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I just want to tell people, "Hey, what you're seeing here isn't the whole story. This girl who laughs and plays all day and slips into a novel after work...she has an evil twin that rarely comes out to play. But she's there." Sometimes I just don't understand why people think it's so easy to come into my life and they <i>want </i>to be my friends. Don't get me wrong, I love my friends. Forever. With all I've got. But I wonder sometimes if they know what they're looking at when they see me.</div>
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For the past month or so, I've been saying that I'm on the struggle bus. It's kind of a joke between me and myself (talk about an inside joke). I've been on the struggle bus so long that I furthered the joke:<span style="font-size: large;"> I'm now the driver of the Struggle Bus. </span>It's a means of travel, and if you want to come along for the ride, just let me know.<br />
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Being on the struggle bus for me means that I somehow manage to scramble through life, get things done, and be social -- only at an awkwardly slow pace. That usual involves many setbacks. </div>
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I don't know why it seems to be a theme in my life right now. But it's pretty entertaining. Because really, it helps me laugh at myself. And laugh at the mud puddles and crappy French fries and broken power lines in this world. </div>
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That moment when I'm carrying a hot tray of bread and I drop a baguette on the floor. Or I go to say, "Have a nice day," to a customer and it comes out, "Have won-goo-nice da...night..." and they basically walked away before I got past the word <i>have</i>. Trying to do laundry and getting interrupted and finishing it a whopping three days later.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>It's the little things in life.</i></span></div>
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Picking up a random book at a bookstore and absolutely loving it, but then running out of time to read it and knowing that I don't have time to read it before I move and it's too expensive to buy. Staring at a roomful of stuff and knowing that I need to pack it but being unable to get myself to do so.</div>
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All of this stuff is petty, really. I think it's stemming from the spiritual chasm running through my core right now. I seem to be going forward (if forward is the right word), and I know that my relationship with God is getting stronger and stronger every day.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">But the thing that keeps getting me is this: I constantly love the darkness and crave the light. <i>Constantly.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It makes me sick inside to realize this about myself. And to know that I am deeply, irrevocably lost in this without a way out.</span> I cannot physically escape this state. If God doesn't come down and change this within me, I will be stuck in it forever.<br />
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I feel like I am going forward deeper into the light.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But almost every day I run into a wall of darkness and I slip right through it and into the other side almost effortlessly.</span><br />
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And I listen to Demons by Imagine Dragons on repeat...<br />
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Does anyone feel this chasm? Does anyone know how to heal it? Because so far bandaids aren't working, and I'm starting to wonder if I'm not letting God heal it.</div>
Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-15713750731977474572013-11-05T00:43:00.000-05:002013-11-05T00:43:10.782-05:00[yournamehere]Names. We all have one. One that our parents gave us. One that we get just by having parents. Nicknames that follow us around. Names we wish people would forget were associated with us. Words that aren't even names, but ones that somehow seem to stick to us, things like <i>hard-working</i>, <i>drop-dead gorgeous, lazy, </i>a <i>party-er</i>, <i>flirtatious, quiet, </i>and a million others adjectives both good and bad. We judge others by their names and then we add more names to them.<br />
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Basically, the whole world is constantly identifying others while at the same time seeking to proclaim their own identity. Every single person in the world has an identity. Is it self-made, or just a picture that others have painted for you?<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">IDENTITY.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
We tend to figure out our identity in a very backward way. The things we wear, the way we look, our bodies and our expressions and our physical traits...these things paint a picture of us. But that is entirely opposite of how identity is really determined.<br />
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Our identity is determined by <i>who we are on the inside. </i>This body is flesh, and flesh only. Made from the dust of the earth. Polished with some soap and a dash of brightly colored fabrics. That identity bleeds into our physical appearance in little ways.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But these bodies that we live in? They are passing shadows, faint glimmers of beauty, fragile as a dandelion gone to seed.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDucWEqPW6eAsYzPCePkGS8QNzAQWdTbMv2XhP0H95CiSZr7XfWonvbzKtvY6fu4JP58F-pqRkZs4l1YxEH-YTxLY1PVqgsFk-jh5kLi56XrZ_0AeWOckPhKROLH7pGZFVoWgPLzg7we4/s1600/dandelion_clock_detail-wikipedia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDucWEqPW6eAsYzPCePkGS8QNzAQWdTbMv2XhP0H95CiSZr7XfWonvbzKtvY6fu4JP58F-pqRkZs4l1YxEH-YTxLY1PVqgsFk-jh5kLi56XrZ_0AeWOckPhKROLH7pGZFVoWgPLzg7we4/s640/dandelion_clock_detail-wikipedia.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Photo found on Google images</i></td></tr>
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Sometimes it is hard for me to remember that. My flesh is so strong. Its desires pull at me, jerking me back and forth all over the board. I listen to my flesh because...I think that it is me. I think that my blond hair and grey/blue/green eyes are <i>mine</i>. I think that my skinny little body is all mine to own and keep forever. I even kind of like my feet (don't tell anyone). </div>
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For me to say "no" to my body -- when it's hungry or thirsty, tired or fidgety, weak or strong -- seems like a preposterous idea. Why would I even want to do that? </div>
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I am asking God to show me the difference. The difference between me (my soul) and my body (the fleshly cage in which I live). </div>
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I watched <i>The Host </i>for the first time tonight. I read the book a few months ago and it blew me away with its intense insight into the battle between soul and body. I posted about it <a href="http://livinginkscrawls.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-host.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From <i>The Host</i>; picture from Pinterest</td></tr>
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The movie was, of course, not nearly as good as the book. (I'm pretty sure that that's my favorite line. Get used to hearing it.)<br />
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But again, I was struck by the way <i>souls </i>and <i>bodies </i>were shown as completely separate concepts. Which, they are! How crazy is it that I know this to be true and yet I don't live it as truth. I don't act like I believe it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From <i>The Host</i>; picture from Pinterest</td></tr>
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The world is beautiful and there is magic in it. But the bigger magic is found within us. God chose to make us "in His image" -- we are a miracle fashioned by His very words to be like Him.<br />
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And then He did something even crazier. He died so that we might die to our flesh in Him. That our souls might have power over our flesh. And that He might take His Spirit (the very Spirit of God!) and anoint us with Him, as a present. We have the Holy Spirit living within.<br />
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My flesh fights this Spirit with its whole being.<br />
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It is a war of the very deepest kind.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">"But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to </span><span style="background-color: white;">fulfill its</span><span style="background-color: white;"> lusts." ~Romans 13:14</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span class="text 2Cor-5-16" id="en-NKJV-28894" style="background-color: white;"><b>"</b></span><span class="text 2Cor-5-16" style="background-color: white;">Therefore, from now on, we regard no one according to the flesh. Even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, yet now we know Him thus no longer. </span><span class="text 2Cor-5-17" id="en-NKJV-28895" style="background-color: white;">Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new." ~ Romans 5:16-17</span></span></div>
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Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-45903019684327770002013-10-30T10:34:00.000-04:002013-10-30T10:34:13.425-04:00Shredder Girl, Episode 1<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">13 DAYS. 13 DAYS UNTIL I MOVE TO COLORADO. 13 DAYS TILL I LEAVEEEEEE!</span><br />
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I'm kind of in the freak-out stage right now. That point where it's starting to get close enough that it's <i>real </i>inside my head, so close that I can see the mountains and taste difference in the air...but also close enough that I realize that this move is going to be <span style="font-size: large;">hard</span>, and <span style="font-size: large;">different</span>, and it's <span style="font-size: large;">something that I can't prepare for</span>, even if I go to great lengths to ready myself for it.<br />
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That's scary.<br />
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I'm throwing myself off the proverbial cliff. Going to Colorado scares me. But the excitement for it is greater than any fear. And isn't that the whole point? How exciting would life be if there was no risk or pain or unknowns?<br /><br />I remember when I rode my first roller coaster with one of my bestest friends, Lauren. We were so pumped to be riding something that big. We sat in the seats like nothing would hold us back. And then the coaster starting <i>click click clicking </i>up the first hill. As we got higher and higher and closer to the top, we were struck with absolute terror.<br />
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We started saying things like, "Why are we doing this?!" and "I don't ever want to do this again." We even accused each other of <i>making </i>the other one do it. Funny how fear turns us into the biggest blamers ever, eh?<br />
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But then suddenly we reached the peak of the coaster and we couldn't think of anything except that <span style="font-size: large;">steep drop into nothingness. </span>We screamed. And screamed. And kept screaming.<br />
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And somewhere along the way, during the loop-de-loops and the force-field spins and the crazy speed that made our eyelids peel back, we realized that we were having the most fun of our lives.<br />
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How does that even work? Does it honestly make sense to ride roller coasters and have that fear in your stomach, and yet <i>enjoy </i>it?<br /><br />
I don't really know. But I think that that's kind of how life is. And now Lauren and I are stepping onto another roller coaster together. <span style="font-size: large;">We're going to live together (!!!) in Colorado while being snowboard instructors at a resort <i>on a mountain</i>. </span>How cool is that?!<br />
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We're buckled into the seats (our plane tickets are bought, our stuff is being packed, we've set an end date for our Ohio jobs). Now we're clicking our way to the top of this coaster. <span style="font-size: large;">And it's scary and </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">beyond amazing. </span><br />
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This chick, Lauren, that I'm going with...she's an amazing, gorgeous, Godly woman, and we have been friends for years. Since we were like 8 or something. We've been skiing and snowboarding together for ages, too. There was one season out at Snow Trails where we both had a red hoodie that we loved to wear on the slopes. I liked hers better, and she liked mine better - naturally - so we decided to switch.<br />
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I still have that hoodie. It has VAIL, COLORADO written on it, and it meant a lot to me about our friendship, so I saved it. Yesterday I attempted a few sewing projects, and I turned that hoodie into a drawstring backpack. I'm taking it out to CO with me ^_^<br />
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Then a pocket on one of my hoodies was coming loose, so I decided to mend it...and I went all random and turned the mend into a heart. Sometimes I just love sewing. (And then there's days when <b>nothing </b>could induce me to touch a needle and thread...)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_volrWw_XaWnHypXPgt6Angwro2UOyBZjWeWo-SGU7gsZRfZH-O2WMOOfO6PnDiaQnqRZLR4mxdnGZJ9v7X361MwvJbiLx0kq9romLAi-NjukgQnMqvdnOkUAm6TWINl1UA4pvGu2r8/s1600/IMG_6917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_volrWw_XaWnHypXPgt6Angwro2UOyBZjWeWo-SGU7gsZRfZH-O2WMOOfO6PnDiaQnqRZLR4mxdnGZJ9v7X361MwvJbiLx0kq9romLAi-NjukgQnMqvdnOkUAm6TWINl1UA4pvGu2r8/s640/IMG_6917.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJyfrPVVsDQlslnnCh1zSapFt9mrOzCiY4xui2BPa9o5jV5zMifP50xQQMLHu6kda51hE1fUKlJOAEiK8Ie61LbKQIth2NO_183tjXr6A_ntR813bCyNkP1y79B2727g6qDBhXanAB980/s1600/IMG_6920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJyfrPVVsDQlslnnCh1zSapFt9mrOzCiY4xui2BPa9o5jV5zMifP50xQQMLHu6kda51hE1fUKlJOAEiK8Ie61LbKQIth2NO_183tjXr6A_ntR813bCyNkP1y79B2727g6qDBhXanAB980/s320/IMG_6920.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Then ^^^ I posted it them both Instagram. Because I had to. <i>(you can follow me @ caitlin1001)</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So what's your roller coaster these days? What's your latest adventure? Has God ever sent you somewhere crazy? Have you ever skied or boarded before?</span></div>
Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-91639693230176021992013-10-27T23:10:00.001-04:002013-10-27T23:10:15.034-04:00a simple "thank you" would suffice<span style="font-size: large;">I have led a very easy life, to be perfectly honest with you.</span> I'm not the one who's been through the fire and come out on the other side praising God. I'm not an example of how to plow through when the going gets rough. For me, "rough" has been reverse culture shock coming back from Thailand. Learning how to love my family. Trying to figure out used-car problems.<br />
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They're not exactly existential crisis moments.<br />
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My greatest dilemmas have been over what job to take and how to earn money for my travels. I have wonderful family members who never cease to take care of me and make me smile. I have devoted friends who stick around when I least expect them to stay (they never leave me alone, I'm telling ya -- haha). I have always had some manner of spending money, some means of transportation at the ready, always have had plenty of food and space in which to live.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have an abundance. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
Instead of resting in this blessing and letting it fill me with thankfulness and trying to find the best ways to use this to bless others, <b style="font-size: x-large;">I felt ashamed of it. </b>I thought that my lack of dark experiences and troubling circumstances made me an incredibly shallow person.<br />
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But I realized that that just isn't true. Being surrounded by pleasant things does not make one joyful, just as being around unpleasant things does not make one bitter. Though both resulting conditions can easily be the case.<br />
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How we act in any circumstance declares who we are. <span style="font-size: large;">The circumstance itself does not necessarily lend the label. </span><br />
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Crazy, isn't it, how we label ourselves and others by what they have been through. Yes, those circumstances change us and in a way they make us who we are. But that isn't our identity.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"The clothes don't make the man." </span>I'm sure you've heard it before. Who we are inside tends to show through in how we dress and what we say...not the other way around. <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Funny, isn't it, how what we believe has crazier consequences than we think it does..</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>"The Lord is my Shepherd, I SHALL NOT WANT."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Psalm 23:1</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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What a strange power there is in those last few words: <i>I shall not want.</i> This idea of God leading me and giving me <span style="font-size: large;"><b>literally everything I need to survive </b></span>has far-reaching consequences. I shall not want for more food. I shall not want for a different car. I shall not want to be a different person with different circumstances.<span style="font-size: large;"><i> I shall not want beyond what I already possess.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Instead of constantly pursuing other things, I should be able to look around and go, "I have God." What or who can compare? I wonder if God just shakes His head at my flighty ways and endless desires. <span style="font-size: large;">I sometimes think that He says, ever so gently (and rather ironically), "A simple 'thank You' would suffice, My daughter."</span></span></div>
Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-138448304134260562013-10-22T02:12:00.002-04:002013-10-22T02:12:44.521-04:00Decayed Soul<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b> The
mask. </b></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> The
ploy.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The
lie.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The
fanciful whim.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i> <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The
act of utter rebellion.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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How they terrify me. And how they fascinate me, too. They
make me shudder – in fear – and recoil – in disgu<span style="font-family: inherit;">st<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> – and take notice – in inquisitiveness. </span>B</span>ut you do not fear
something that you cannot imagine. You do not fear something that has no root
dangling in truth. These things wrought in the darkness are twisted versions of
the light.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And they are symbols, exaggerated
versions, of what we really are inside.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is hideous to picture the
soul in all of its worst moments.</span> The mouth snarling in rage, the eyes darkened
with hate, the selfish hands pleading innocent, the lazy frame waxing to
nothingness, the pages and pages we could fill will all the human failures and
diseases and <i>sins</i>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But what it is even more hideous
is to think of these things as being not only possible but real. For Christ has
made it clear that we are born into sin. That means that our souls are being
eaten alive with sin. That means that though we may not all be murderers,
thieves, and adulterers, we have all had thoughts to do those things…and that
is just the same. <o:p></o:p></div>
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You may not be following me. It is all concept, trailing thoughts, strange emotions rising to the surface when night coats the world and only the stars can see what is below. All revolving around a movie I just watched. </div>
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But haven't you felt it before?? Oh the depths of wickedness! How
deep the darkness becomes! When once the feet tread upon that path, it winds
swiftly to their demise.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am trembling at the thought.
How very near the edge I could be. I shy away at the sight of this supremely
ugly vision, my very insides cringing away from this ghastly business.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> We have all been seduced by the
<b>Music of the Night</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> We all <b>wear the face</b> of one
unchanged by our deeds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> We dare not paint <b>a Portrait of
ourselves</b>, even for ourselves to look at.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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This sounds
horrible. Worse than horrible. Isn’t this depressing? Isn’t it completely
detrimental to think of this, to let myself be drawn aside to look at the
darkness?<br />
<br /><i><span style="font-size: large;">
Perhaps it is. </span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Yet I want
to understand something, something I thought that perhaps I could never grasp.
Growing up in a homeschooling, Christian home, there were a lot of things I
didn’t see. Much of the world that I never knew. I was protected…innocent. I
always thought of myself as a Christian – long before I even knew what that
meant.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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So when I
grew (quite recently) to understand <span style="font-size: large;">the riches of grace in God, the freedom in
Christ, the beauty in the relationship with Him</span>, I felt as if all I knew was
rose petals and sugar water. I didn’t know what I was being saved from…only
that this was better than anything I’d tasted before.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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For me to
look the darkness square in the eyes and see how easily I am that – could be
that – is horrific. And I’ve never seen it before. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Death has nothing to do with
breathing our last breath. <b>Death has everything to do with decay, inside and
out. </b></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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This sudden
and terrifying realization of darkness and sin and a life full of death is…I
can’t quite say what it is. It’s not what I expected. I’m sure it won’t be the
last time that I look past the flesh we wear and see a glimpse of soul that is
darker than a pit. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Yet swirling past and in and out of this <i>darkness </i>is truth. Truth that my heart can grasp like a lifeline, rest upon like a rock in a desert of swirling sands:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The darkness
is not to be feared. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Fear is not
something that the light knows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Rather,
darkness fears the light, and draws away from it. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, my soul, do not despair. Look into this darkness and see the hollowness of its eyes and remind it that it is only a shadow leftover from the light. That is has power, oh yes, but that there is a greater power, a power that I - even I, a nobody fluttering around in the midst of earth - <i>I have access to.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;">"Jesus said
to her,</span><span style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;"> ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, thought he
may die, he shall live. And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die.
Do you believe this?</span><span style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;">’ " </span><i><span style="font-size: large;">John 11:25-26</span></i></span><o:p></o:p></div>
Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-30279959620031007052013-10-17T23:43:00.000-04:002013-10-17T23:43:03.843-04:00The Maker's LanguageIsn't it crazy to think that we can't really describe or explain God? And that He is so above us that we can't actually communicate with Him in our language? Instead the <br />
<br />
Yet He -- God of the universe, Maker of you and me -- has condescended to make Himself known to us in our own language with our own language because <i>He wrote our language</i>.<br />
<br />
But all that aside, there really are no human words with which to correctly describe Him. We cannot explain Him or label Him for His very being and existence are far, far above us.<br />
<br />
O glorious thought!<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“For as the heavens are higher than the earth,</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: center;">
So are My ways higher than your ways,</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And My thoughts than your thoughts." </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">~Isaiah 55:9</span></div>
</span></blockquote>
And what are we left with, then? What language shall we fellow Christians speak to one another? Ah. That is another piece of what sets us apart from the rest of the world. We speak a language that others cannot understand. Because our language is God's. His language is love and peace and joy -- all things that we cannot explain or describe. Our very existence as creatures born again with new spiritual natures is a mystery. Yet He chooses to proclaim Himself to us, to expound mysteries to us, to enfold us in a truth that is hidden from those not His children.<br />
<br />
<i>God, teach me to speak Your language. </i><br />
Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-23094568402228719982013-10-13T00:36:00.001-04:002013-10-13T00:36:12.099-04:00Friendship (is) in the Rapids Sometimes we have to do things that are hard.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I'm kind of having a "duh" moment, in case you were wondering. But it's late, so I think I am entitled to a few less-than-intellectual realizations. </i></span><br />
<br />
Friendships should not be taken for granted. <span style="font-size: large;">Any relationship, in fact, should not reach the point where it seems to be a permanent fixture in your life and thus does not need as much constant attention.</span> ERROR MESSAGE. Faulty reasoning is at play!<br />
<br />
If you rent a car, or a microwave, or even a pair of socks, you know that their presence is temporary, and you treat them as such. You use them a lot for just what they were made for. You try to keep them clean and presentable so that when you return them you don't have to pay extra fees. But for the most part, you use them and ignore them and kind of enjoy them.<br />
<br />
But when you save and save and save and SAVE to buy your own car, you are so excited to finally <i>own </i>it that you treat it like gold. You love on it. You clean it. You take care of it. You probably talk to it like it's a friend. It changes from a temporary side-item to something worth so much more. Why? Because you put time and effort into owning it. You chose it. You "earned" it. <br />
<br />
In the very same way, any relationship that makes it past the acquaintance we-watch-movies-together-occasionally stage deserves attention and deserves to be made into something of worth. Okay, it's not exactly the same as the car example, because once you have a really good friend you don't "own" them.<br />
<br />
But the point I'm trying to knock into my head is this: the more something is in my life, the more attention I should pay to it.<br />
<br />
Instead, <span style="font-size: large;">I start seeing people as fixtures in my life</span> and I'm just swimming through them, doing whatever I please, not realizing that if I care (and I do) I need to make it clear to them and myself that I care. That they are not taken for granted.<br />
<br />
Oof. I thought getting past the less-than-true-friends stage meant pushing into more tranquil waters. Ha! That's only the beginning of the rapids! Yet, like Pocohontas, I think that I'd always choose the narrower, wilder path of the river. Because you can't find safety by looking for it.<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">In fact, I'm not sure that you can find safety at all...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Do you really want to find it?</span>Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-15966147219263293342013-10-10T12:04:00.001-04:002013-10-10T12:04:33.775-04:00Tozer and My Daily [grain-free] Bread, #2More Tozer. Like I said, I marked almost every page in the book, so if you don't want to hear about Tozer, wait a week or two till I'm done sharing. But if you're willing to stick around...man, this guy is amazing. I don't know why I never read his stuff before. He's starting to get near C.S. Lewis on my list (and I love C.S. Lewis, let me tell you).<br />
<br />
In this part of the book, Tozer talks about a man who was a deacon in a church for 26 years and then is born again -- <i>after </i>being a deacon for all those years. Obviously the amount of churches and "Christians" we have in this world (*cough*inAmerica*cough*) are not a testament to our faith in God. Rather it is a testament to our great religious tendencies.<br />
<br />
Kind of depressing, isn't it? Living with Christians who don't know Christ.<br />
<br />
Anyway, here's how Tozer describes why the man was suddenly "saved" and talks about how the man had memorized the Word.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Thank God, he did memorize the texts, and all the truth he knew now suddenly bloomed in the light. </span>That is why I believe we ought to memorize Scripture. That is why we ought to get to know the Word, why we ought to fill our minds with the great hymns and songs of the church.<span style="font-size: large;"> They will mean little to us until the Holy Spirit comes. But when He comes He will have fuel to use. Fire without fuel will not burn,</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> but fuel without fire is dead.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> And the Holy Spirit will not come on a church where there is no biblical body of truth."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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He goes on to say that this is our "preparation" for the Holy Spirit. God has promised His Helper for us, but that does not mean we all receive it at the same time. We are to be prepared for the Holy Spirit to come and make His home within us!</div>
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"But he who is joined to the Lord is one spirit with Him...Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own?" 1 Corinthians 6:17, 19</div>
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<br /></div>
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Now I want you to think about something for a minute. Think about the promises of God. Not just the ones that promise blessings, a good future, hope, and wonderful peace...but the ones that tell us who we are.</div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>We are children of God. </b>You are a son or a daughter of God! Talk about position.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>If we are children, then we are also heirs to <span style="font-size: large;">the kingdom</span></b> </li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>And heirs to <span style="font-size: large;">eternal life</span></b></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>He has given us His Spirit </b>(the Holy Spirit is <i>God Himself</i>) to live within us and <span style="font-size: large;">empower </span>us to have the<span style="font-size: large;"> fullness of Christ </span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>We get to have communion with the Father always</b>, through the mediator-ship of His Son. The very One who paid the price for our sins is the One who brings us as <span style="font-size: large;">new creatures </span>to the Father. </li>
</ul>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Are you in awe yet? I am! All of these truths keep breaking over me like 100-foot waves. How could I ever escape these beautiful and terrifying implications of <i>God</i>? God, who has chosen to be in my life, has chosen to pay attention to my lowly existence. </div>
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<br /></div>
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But there are more. Push past everything you've ever heard and open your Bible and pretend that you're reading it for the first time. Shout out each word. Chew each phrase like it's a piece of steak. Remind yourself that this stuff is <span style="font-size: large;">real</span>. And it's true. </div>
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Because God loves you and has chosen you and at that point <span style="font-size: large;">what is there to be afraid of? What do you have to lose, or gain? </span></div>
</div>
Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8894014228465485983.post-80837229025850348162013-09-26T10:11:00.000-04:002013-09-26T10:11:14.149-04:00Tozer and My Daily [grain-free] Bread, #1I recently finished reading <i>Faith Beyond Reason </i>by A.W. Tozer. For some reason, I had never read any of his works before, but this book really hit the spot. I think I marked just about every page in the book. I would like to share some of my favorite tidbits with you.<br /><br />Before I jump into that, a little Whole30 update: I went back to work at my old job (which is, incidentally, a restaurant). My life is now smelling and seeing good food all the time. Especially lots of fresh-baked breads. I have worked the past 3 days and I have managed not to eat anything but what I packed for my own lunch. I even turned down free pizza and ....<span style="font-size: large;">mint oreos. </span>I feel like a food-martyr. Haha.<br />
<br />
Alright. Enough food woes. The body is more than food and clothing, right?<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"That is why the meaning of the word <i>received </i>is so important here. "As many as received him" - <span style="font-size: large;">actively and aggressively took Him. </span>This means <span style="font-size: large;">a determined exercise of the will. </span>It means to not deny any condition that the Lord lays down. That is something quite different from what we are hearing. They did not come to the Lord and try to make terms, but they came to the Lord and <span style="font-size: large;">actively took Him on His terms."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">(^^This quote is referring to the passage of John 1:11-13) </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I believe that this Bible is a living book, that God as given it to us and that we dare not add to it or take away from it. It is revelation. But <i>revelation is not enough! </i><span style="font-size: large;">There must be illumination before revelation can get to a person's soul.</span> It is not enough that I hold an inspired book in my hands. I must have an inspired heart. There is the difference, in spite of the evangelical rationalist who insists that revelation is enough."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now this is the part that I find interesting. He talks about the "body" and the "soul" of truth. That merely reading the truth (seeing its "body") is not enough for us to consider ourselves to be true.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"You can memorize all of the texts of the Bible - and I believe in memorizing. But when you are through, you have got nothing but the body. There is the <i>soul </i>of truth as well as the body. There is a divine inward illumination the Holy Spirit must give us or we do not know what the truth means. Right there is the difference. We must insist that conversion is a miraculous act of God by the Holy Spirit. It must be wrought in our spirits. The body of truth, the inspired text, is not enough; there must be an inward illumination!"</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>All credits for the quotes go to A.W. Tozer; these are his words, not mine.</i></span>Caityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13765519379357137732noreply@blogger.com0