Weekly Update

My intentional exercise record during the last two weeks:

One hour of Pool wrestling

One hour of Ground wrestling

Five+ 10-25 minute segments of Running

Four+ half hour segments of Basketball

A half hour of Football

One and a half hours of Ultimate Frisbee

Something I learned this week is that the door is open. I also learned a lot about trust. For more details, see my full blog at http://thesafingzone.blogspot.com.

Weekly News Report

Something I learned this week… Hmm...

This week I think I learned a little about the Holy Spirit. Something related to it, at least.

I am a God-fearing, Christ-following, Jesus-honoring Christian. Yet, I have never been filled with the Holy Spirit as Paul describes it. That’s not to say that the Spirit has not and is not working in my life in some way, it’s that I’m not sure that it’s as easy to recognize the presence of the Spirit in my life because there isn’t the evidence which Paul mentions (speaking in tongues, prophesying, etc.). But I learned that I am not the only one. There are many other hardcore Christians who lack the aforementioned evidence of the Holy Spirit in their life. There have been times in the past when I questioned how close to God I really was because I felt “Spirit-less.” Although I knew I couldn’t be the only Christian like this, I’d never had another Christian, who had the undeniable evidence of good fruits coming out of their life, confess that they had never been Spirit-filled according to Paul’s writings. Though I have moved beyond measuring my faith by this standard, it is still somewhat of a comfort to be informed by another Christian that I am not the only one like this.

The Power of Voodoo. Who do? You do!

What is one thing I have learned this week?

This week I learned how to make little men out of string. With the help of my closest human friend, a short, army survival bracelet turned into a little man. Several people have told me that at first glance, they look like voodoo dolls (though the only similarity is the fact that they are small and human resembling. They are otherwise completely unrelated). However, this association would be understandable since I am just returning from Haiti, a voodoo infested nation. Yesterday, one of my friends suggested that it would be perfect to use them as prayer figures. This opposite purpose is the perfect clash. The way my friend described that they could be used is as so: for each person you’re praying for, attach a slip of paper with their name on it to the small, rope character. There are two types of characters: prayer warriors and guardian angels.

 I thought it was a fun idea! You think it'll catch on?  ;)

Something else I learned is that I need to find something to do with my time in between check-in times at school. Lately, I've spent it on iMovie, working on a project related to my recent Haiti adventures. Now that I'm finished that though, I need something new to work on for the times when I'm not out of the country, helping run a Winterfest, or filling the position of an exchange student to another one of the Mission programs.

As a Lamb

I don't think it's possible to fully appreciate comfort until you're at a place where you need it and you can't find it. It's like a warm, fleecy blanket. You don't truly appreciate it until fall comes and the air starts to get chilly.

I don't know what it is about today, but it's been one of those days that has me struggling to see the bright side of things. I'm worn out from late nights and exerting so much of my energy into the work we do at Mission. I'm feeling ill-equipped for certain things that are drawing nearer on my calender, much like a paddle-boater feels as it heads towards a waterfall.

"Don't worry! God doesn't call the equipped, He equips the called!" Yes, that's true; my Bible's gone missing though. Considering the fact that I'm now a middle school small-group leader, I think the Bible is the silver bullet in my gun belt. I may have a vast array of tools and templates, but these kids primarily need truth. They're reaching a point in their life when they will have to decide if they will believe for themselves what their parents have taught them since they were old enough to understand.

It's simply been a difficult day.

It's usually on days like today that I keep a box of cookies or a bag of chips near. There's something about nibbling on the snacks that my mom has been warning me away from since before I could talk that brings a bit of comfort. But today there are no cookies. There are no chips. Only a bag of David Sunflower Seeds (Ranch Flavor) that slowly shrivels your tongue as you chomp the 2.5 servings of the over-salted seeds.

Music is the next thing I usually turn to. Give me something mellow. Please hold the big drums and the wild guitars. Even when I find what I'm looking for, it's not good enough. The soothing sound helps for a few minutes, but the restlessness remains and the irritation continues.

I need something. What is there that can smooth these ruffled plumes?

And that's when it happened.

My initial reaction was a deep breath and a feeling of relief. Only seconds later, this was followed by the shaking of my head and the feeling of childishness and stupidity. The words I heard were these:

In Christ alone my hope is found,
He is my light, my strength, my song;
this Cornerstone, this solid Ground,
firm through the fiercest drought and storm.

Of course. How foolish I'd been. No matter how strong the grip of despair may be, or how fierce a problem may appear, it isn't. It isn't strong; it doesn't have the power to overwhelm. It is truly nothing.

Allow me to put it into perspective-- A blossoming artist puts his best effort into a canvas, until it is filled with creativity, originality, and beauty. It is nothing short of a masterpiece. Nevertheless, those in the Mighty Artist's Guild, when they hear about the novice artist, confront him with his work and point out every flaw in his piece and in his style. They make sure he knows his depiction is far from perfect. In their eyes, it's a failure and he's a flunk. The young man, though respecting the opinions of the Great Artists, doesn't allow their words to convince him that he is no good. He isn't in the Artist's Guild, therefore, it is not their expectations that he is trying to meet. He is simply doing what he loves how he knows best.

In the same way, we are not of this world. We may be surrounded by people, but we are only in their midst, not of their midst. Therefore, we're allowed to fail in their eyes. Troubles may come to tear us down, but they are only worldly troubles. No matter how terrible they might seem, they exist only in the world, and it's not matters of this world that should concern us, rather, we should be wary of matters that are of spirit. When it comes to spiritual trials, we are fortunate to have the Spirit- the Holy Spirit- on our side. It is in Him that we draw our strength from and our foundation is set upon. Therefore, we have already won. And if we have already won in the spiritual realm, then we have surely won in the earthly world as well. There are no troubles too great, too hard, or too persistent for us to overcome.

This is the comfort I felt. The truth that He's still up there, somewhere, looking out for me, making sure that I'm never given so much as to truly overwhelm me, just like He promised. This was my fuzzy, fleece blanket; my "comforter" if you will.

When I look At You...

...I see a shadow of what you're dealing with. Without being there with you, I have no idea what you're truly going through. But if the visible shadow is any sign of something bigger and deeper, I know it has to be so hard.

Right now, you're working, you're at school, you're babysitting to the point where you're really being a mom, you're experiencing the tug-of-war that spiritual growth is often accompanied by, you're cut off, you're faced with problems no one would ever ask or want to face, and amidst all that, you're trying to live a life that God would find pleasure in. Wow.

You can only see the present, the immediate, the path and obstacles that are right in front of you. You can only feel the constant dragging pressure day by day as you press on and try to get somewhere. But you are. You are getting somewhere. In fact, you already have gotten somewhere. You're doing so much right now, it's as though you're dragging a ton of bricks behind you. At the end of each day you look at the sorry inch you've struggled through; you see the cuts and bruises on your knees and the blisters on your hand. And you wonder: Will I ever get anywhere? Can I ever be anywhere but here? The answer to that is not just a simple "yes." The real answer is "You are." When all this is over and you look back, you will see how far you have walked. You'll see the spot where you began far, far away, behind all the hills, valleys, and pitfalls that you encountered. Everything you're going through now is preparing you for your future. Everything is for a purpose. You could be working a different job and making $15 an hour or doing something else where you only made $40 after a whole day. How much you make is as unimportant as what you're doing. Rather, it's how you're doing it that means something. If you're working hard to do and be you're best at the job, then you are doing the right thing, and until it's time to move on, you're doing the right thing. And I'm proud of you for working so hard. You amaze me. In so many ways, what you're doing is so much harder than what I'm doing. I only have to make a few decisions throughout this whole school year while decision making is what your life seems to be consumed by these days. In so many ways, you have so much more on your plate than I do.

If our relationship was based on expectations, maybe I'd have reason to be disappointed with you and the way you choose to go about things sometimes. However, the only expectations I have are that you follow God's leading right now and that you choose to grow, even if you don't desire to grow, while He's having you work your way through everything in this season. That's all I want. And that second one isn't even so much of an expectation, instead it's a hope I have. I hope you will choose to grow through all this. Otherwise, how much might you be missing? If you've got to go through it no matter what, why not make the most of it? Why not do it with all your heart? With joy in that heart. If you can't avoid it, make it worth it. Choose to make it good.

If you hear nothing else, hear this. You never disappoint me. I love you.

Yours Truly,

Nathan

Life's Little Clementines

Friday morning; 7:30 am: alarm goes off.

Today was going to be exciting. Today I was starting off the day with an adventure! The night before I'd set out all the right clothes and packed a few things that I'd need into my backpack. And the letters. I double checked for those letters.

This morning I was going biking, and what a beautiful day for cycling it was! It had already been arranged with the Mission leaders that I would bike to the office in the morning because my mentor and house leader was away at his internship. I suppose that with only one student living way out in the goonies (that's me) it wasn't worth the trip or the gas, so I volunteered to bike instead. I had to be at the office by noon. No problemo! However, I was planning on making one stop along the way. Well...Not quite along the way.. Actually, it was fifteen miles out of my way, but that's insignificant.

See, the letters I had were, to me, really important letters. I had written one of them the night before and the other Wednesday night. There was a special retreat that my home church was holding for high school juniors and seniors. At the end of the weekend retreat, the youth received something special from friends and family (I'll try and not completely blow the secret for future attendees). These letters were my contribution to two of these people. I had the option of emailing them to those in charge of setting up this part of the retreat, but I really wanted them to get these handwritten. There's something different about getting a typed, emailed note as opposed to receiving a paper with a familiar scrawl upon it. I would've mailed them, but I don't think there's any sort of postal mailing system that will take a letter from a mailbox in one zip code and put it in another mailbox in a different zip code in the same day. So, without a car, I decided to bike them in..



I left the house at 8:30 am, leaving me three and a half hours. I'd mapped out my routes ahead of time and found that this should be a good amount of time with about a half hour cushion.

I started out fresh and ready to do some riding! The trip to the church proved difficult but not terribly challenging and I arrived without incident about twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Stepping off the peddles and looking back at the bike as I walked inside the church, I thought "I do NOT want to get back on the machine.." My butt was killing me, my shirts were soaked through with sweat, and my legs were pretty sore. But that wasn't important. I got there and I delivered the letters. I helped JZ, the youth pastor's wife, set up some things for the retreat while I chatted with her son, Wyatt, as he munched on his cheerios. Then, before I left, I watered up and printed off the directions I'd saved. Slightly behind schedule, I headed out again; thirteen miles down, eighteen to go.

The way back was very difficult. I was no longer feeling fresh and full of energy. I was tired and very sore, and my bike seat, padded as it was, seemed to be making a permanent imprint on my behind. Once or twice, I began to doze slightly while peddling. I didn't think it was possible to doze like that while exerting so much physical effort. Not to mention, I felt like most of the trip back was uphill. But the trip there had seemed mostly uphill too! God should've made downhills longer because you travel faster.. That's assuming you'd be going the same direction every time you traveled those hills.. Anyways. This time, some of the hills were so long and others so steep, That I had to walk a few of them after running out of lower gears on my bike. Actually, I found that I made faster progress when I was walking up the hills sometimes. It got to a point where I had a very strong desire for water. I already had a sore throat from a cold I'd been battling, but now I was worn out both on the immediate level and the recovery level. Downhill breaks now only recovered minimally what earlier downhill travels would've given back in full, refreshing breaths. I needed water. So I prayed for water. I mouthed the word "water" to myself hoping passing drivers would be able to read my lips. I prayed again. Twice more in fact. Yet no water came. Finally, I told God, "I know you know what I need, if you provide it, I realize it'll be in your time."

As I continued on, I stopped telling God I needed water but began talking to myself and telling myself that I needed water. However, myself disagreed and said "Suck it up, princess!" Over the next few miles, similar conversations ensued, and each resulted in my pushing myself harder and further. I kept an eye out for the possibility of a discarded water bottle along the side of the road. I don't think I would've picked up an water bottle that was already opened unless it looked fairly clean and was at least half full. At one point, though, I saw a beer bottle that had been filled with a few sips of mixed leftover beer and rainwater. It was the most promising amount of liquid I'd seen yet and I half considered it for a moment, but not to the point where I pulled over to really considered it.. Still I kept going. I was curious about the time, but knew that it couldn't be too near to noon yet. At a particularly steep hill on Bartholow Road, I had to get off and walk. It seemed like these hills were around every turn. I was walking up the hill looking at all the clutter on the roadside. It seemed like there must've been some kind of accident there awhile back because of the nature of some of the clutter. I walked past it all. with only a few looks. I'd told God that if He was going to provide, it would have to clearly His provision. So I'm walking along, the hill begins to level out, when all of a sudden I see it. No, not a bottle of water, but a clementine. It was sitting just out of the mess of leaves and mud near the white line on the road. I picked it up, brushed it off just in case, though it looked undamaged except for a few small bruises, and I peeled it. It tasted slightly out of season, but otherwise perfect. It was juicy, sweet, and was the best thing I'd tasted in a long time. I felt like grabbing a bunch of rocks and building a small memorial on the roadside like the Israelites did in Joshua 4:19! That was the most exciting part of the trip. After eating the clementine, I hopped onto my bike and continued on my way. I arrived at the office at 12:05 pm just in time to start noon prayer.


I say all this for the sake of the clementine:

See, I prayed for water. I asked God to give me water now. Obviously, God had other plans. He didn't give me water right away when I asked for it. Instead He gave me something BETTER in His own time! God provides for those who love Him and He gives to those who ask. He doesn't always respond when we ask and it seems like maybe He didn't hear us. But He always hears us; He just chooses to work in His own timing. In some ways, God is the worst procrastinator ever. He always seems to wait until the last minute to act, but His results always reach or surpass our expectations.

Yep, God taught me that through a bruised clementine on the side of the road. Who'da thunk it?

Oh, The Things I've Done

*This is an old blog. I wrote it down on paper about two months ago with all the intentions of posting it then, but never found time to put it in here.*


I've been reflecting on my life, as short as it has been so far, and have been thinking about the mistakes I've made. Some of them are small and I can laugh at them now, but some of them are really big mistakes.


Recently,as I've been praying and desiring to grow more, spiritually, there've been a few really big mistakes that continually rise to the surface of my mind. These are things that happened awhile back, and I know God's forgiven me , and maybe the people they've involved have forgotten about them altogether, or at least chosen to move on from them. You'd think that with God and them content with the way things've settled, my troubled mind would be able to find peace. Buuut...nohsuhchluck. The problem still lies in me. I can't forgive myself. Could that be the feeling of guilt and condemnation from the devil? Possibly. Whatever the cause of t hose feelings are, I just want them out. I don't want them anymore. In fact, I've never wanted them. So what better way to extinguish them than to address the situation head on?

About two months ago (four now), I had the opportunity to talk to a friend of mine and I carefully approached the subject which I knew could transition into what I was aiming at. I brought up the mistake I'd made and asked for that person's forgiveness. They shrugged it off and told me there was no wrong to forgive. They said it seriously. The peace I received from that was incredible. I don't know if coming to them in person and asking them face to face for their forgiveness has or will change or impact their life in any way, but I hope they're spared some grief later down the road. Since then, I've let the memory of that mistake go. I'll never forget about it, but it won't bother me anymore. I've received forgiveness from all sides: from God above, from my friend around me, and from myself within.

Very recently (About two months ago), I had another opportunity to talk to an individual in my life. Since I'd been freed from the guilt of the previous mistake, this was the heaviest burden I carried. I wrote this person a letter and was going to send it to them as soon as I could. However, I was in the middle of my prayer with my Mission family when I felt the urge to call the person. For several minutes, I rationalized and debated with myself. What if I didn't have the right words to say? What if they didn't remember what I was talking about? All the what if's.. I knew I wanted to do this. But did I need to go to these measures? Did I actually need to talk with this person? How much longer did I want to deal with this burden? This guilt was preventing me from getting as close to God as I wanted. Every time I would begin to get close to God, the same thought would always appear. "But you did this. You can't get close to God with that in your heart!" How much longer did I want to deal with this? "Why not get rid of it right now?" I thought. "Why wait any longer than I already have?" I stood up from my seat. That was the first step. I had taken it. I walked out of the room full of praying Mission students. I found a private place...and I made the call. I didn't know how to start off, but I prayed for the words and they came. I got a few sentences into my apology before I began choking back tears, but I forced the words to remain intelligible as I kept talking. And then I hung up. I sat down, cried, and thanked God. If He was anything less than perfect... But He Is.

I thought about the strongholds Satan has had in my life. His little castles that were once big fortresses: Strongholds of lying, lust, disobedience, selfishness, pride, and guilt. I imagined a foot sweeping in and making perfect, shoe-string contact with this final tower, sending it, and its prince flailing into the air and out of the picture. My picture. No..God's picture of me. I laughed aloud.

I felt like high-fiving God. :D

This is How It Goes

This is the attitude I've been trying to have. This is the mindset I need. It's been hard to keep trying to think this way, but that's because I've had the wrong perspective. There is no "try". In some situations, there's still a "try" and in the end you have "done" because you tried hard enough to get by. This time, there is only do or do not. I either DO...Or I do not succeed in doing. Listen to this. This says it all:

Count it All Joy.... Count it All Joy...

I've been avoiding writing this. I've been manning up since things have become what they are..

It feels like we've broken up. I follow you on Facebook, eagerly awaiting the arrival of each new status. I smile at some, sigh deeply at others. I want to comment on each, I want to tell you my thoughts, but I feel like they're not welcome anymore. I look at each new picture you post of yourself and long to tell you how beautiful you are. I want you to know how attractive I find you. But I feel as though you're no longer mine to share that with anymore. I know it's not true. The reason I don't share more of these thoughts is because it will only increase this familiar longing that you are already plagued with.

I want to talk to you, I want to text you all day. I want to be next to you to listen to you and hug you on the bad days just as I want to be next to you to laugh with you and hold your hand on the good days. But I can't. I can't even talk to you. I know if we start talking, the knowledge of our future will quickly have me climbing over this wall we've put up out of obedience. We'll be right back where we were before I felt the tug to do what we've now done and put each other aside for the time being.

I have the strength to do this so long as I can avoid you. It's when I talk to you or read your posts that are in any way connected or relevant to me that I falter. The deep, sad sigh that erupts from my heart causes me to shudder. The sudden swell of my own emotions surprises me yet I'm not taken off guard at all because I know they're there. I keep them buried as much as I can, but they glint and glimmer under their paper thin curtain at the smallest signs of life and light from beyond their cover. They betray betray me while they betray themselves as they awake from their slight slumber.

I can't talk to you. I need to avoid you. I already can't avoid you completely. It's already hard enough. But I couldn't have it any easier because I can't stand to see any less of you. It's a torturous in-between and it weighs on me considerably every time these feelings are aroused. These are my honest, human thoughts. These are things from my lowly perspective.


However, His thoughts are higher than mine and His ways are not my own.

No part of me wants to conclude this on a hopeful note. I want, for once, to be completely miserable, without a hint of bright optimism to taint my dreary canvas.

But we are under His watchful eye. His plans are to prosper us, not to harm us. He desires to bless those who love Him and are quick to obey Him. There is hope while there is a promise, and there shall be a promise until death do us part.

Laying It Down

Man, I've had a lot of thoughts lately. However, I don't think it'd be fair to spill them all in just one post because it could potentially go on forever. My latest thoughts, unfortunately have been somewhat in the dumpish. Not horribly. But enough to draw that depressed "Sigh" from my burdened chest. My burdened chest, that's where I went wrong.

"Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous fall." Psalm 55:22

So long as I continue to hold on to the things I want closest to me, it's going to hurt more having to keep them at a distance. Imagine holding a 15 lbs weight. It's not so heavy holding it close to you, holding it tight against you. But when you're told to keep it a certain distance from your person, it becomes difficult. The further away from yourself you hold it, the more challenging it becomes to hold it up. Imagine that 15 lbs weight was something else, something you really cared about. In holding this object out in front of you, not only is it harder to uphold, but it also becomes more vulnerable as it remains suspended.

Sometimes it makes more sense to set the object down. It may be better for both you and whatever it is that you're looking after that's caught hold of your attention and affection.

Anyways, the song Use Somebody has been stuck in my mind this afternoon. Making April's cover of the song is somehow even more desperate sounding than the original song. I feel like I could really use somebody. I know I have Somebody to talk to. But there are so many times where I wish I could just lay all my cards out in front of someone and just allow my feelings to be naked.



You. Yes you. I can't talk to you. I am dying to talk to you. I can't. I know if you're there, any more than a little bit, things will be just as they have been before. They may not revert to what we've steered from on the outside, but inside of me, they will snap back like a tight rubber band. There's a lot more I could say, but all of that is only more details. You'll understand. You might not understand the reasons and details, but you understand the big picture.

As I've written this, a small pool of confidence has already began to build in me. I am more than a conqueror. World, if you have a problem with me, feel free to express it. If my life being a mess hasn't clued you in on anything yet, read this: I'm trusting God. Everything that I'm feeling doesn't have to be my problem. I only have to face it, I don't have to fight it. Everything that you have for me that could present a challenge or struggle in my life, leave it on my desk. My Boss will be making His rounds, He'll pick it up for me.