I sit here typing this post while eating a gluten and dairy free peanut butter cookie. There is something about biting into a cookie, specifically peanut butter, that every morsel becomes soaked up and inhabited by your taste buds. In some ways, life is like biting into a (insert your favorite) cookie.
Recently, I've been thinking a lot about major life decisions, the future, and all of the potential that lies ahead of me. As I open up my cookie box debating whether to take a bite of that delicious cookie, I find my realisitic self calling out "Wait! Hold on! There is something better than this right now." And, while I feel that I've crowned myself the "Queen of Waiting", I hear God at the other end whispering softly in my ear saying: "Take a bite now. Go ahead. It's okay. Go for it."
Now, I do believe that there are points in our lives where we are called to "wait" for something. You may find yourself in such a place right now. But, I do believe that we can become so carried away with just waiting, sitting back, and watching, that the world passes us by and we have assumed the role of mere bystanders in an old black and white film.
It is this latter season of my life that I find myself in now. I've discovered that all of these opportunities and friendships are beckoning for me to grab hold of them. I'm learning how to take risks that are healthy, how to face the everyday with my eyes wide open, and how to be okay with failing. I am hopeful and awestruck that such a God, a Creator, would choose a servant like me to fulfill his purpose. I am amazed by his love and his grace that he has for me; and how often I lack to actually see it, feel it, and experience it. I am like a child again, sitting at my dad's feet and looking up at him: knowing that I am protected and cared for. Sometimes, this love is hard to experience - all I know is that His grace, His love, is completely free and open to anyone. We just have to choose whether we want to lift up our hands to be placed on his lap or to sit where we are.
It's equivalent to choosing whether we want to taste that fullness of the peanut butter cookie. We can know so much about a product and yet not really know it at all. Take, for example, a computer. If you like Macs or know a great deal about them but do not own one. . . well, that is way different than owning a Mac and getting the full use out of it all of the time.
Here's another example. While in college, a friend was trying to get me to begin a small group for women. I was at a point in my life where I was incredibly shy and quiet and asked "Why me?" And this friend told me: "Alex, you can take classes about teaching and read all of the books, and do all of the homework, but until you get into a classroom to teach kids, you haven't really experienced 'teaching.'" This challenged me to pop my head out of the turtle shell that I enclosed around me for so long and look outside. I began to speak, to share my faith, and to encourage my friends and classmates. I am humbled to write that this once shy and quiet girl has transformed into an outspoken young woman!
And yet, I am re-learning this important life truth again - only this time, with a peanut butter cookie. I see the transformation happening in my life in a way that works to put others first, embraces and tries new opportunities, lives in the present, and makes the future a reality. Through God, He has given me the ability to say "Yes" to things that are of Him, to discern important decisions, and to help others in their spiritual journeys.
All of that said, life is really like biting into a peanut butter cookie. Once you take that first bite and make the option to chew slowly and intentionally, you'll notice flavors that have been there all along.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Words of Wisdom. . . . for everyone
"My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you. Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But the man who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continus to do this, not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it-he will be blessed in what he does. If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tonuge, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless. Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." -James 1:27
Monday, April 9, 2012
Shopping for Happiness
My mind is like an old black and white film on mute,
moving with pictures of scenes of my life.
Eyelids flutter like the shutter lens of a camera
as I relive the snapshots thus far.
Some are easily identifiable;
high school graduation, first kiss, New Orleans,
others are hopes for the future,
family, travel, publish
and still,
others are foggy.
It's those moments,
the withered and torn
that outnumber the rest.
You see, the blurry is actually quite clear to me.
I've become an expert at closing the doors
to every ounce of happiness
suited up in a handsome penguin tuxedo
waiting patiently on my front step,
that I've forgotten what it's like to be loved
just because I am.
a daughter,
a sister,
a granddaughter,
a niece,
a friend,
a mentor,
a husband's future wife.
So, I come to terms with my brokenness
and inability to make things right again
and fall to my knees.
They are bruised from surrendering pieces of my life before -
but never fully exposed because I wore long pants
and long shirts,
to cover the hurt that I have endured.
My face makes love to the dirt floor
as I ask for your forgiveness;
for Your love once again.
And then, I feel something wet
fall from the place of sight
and caress my rosy red cheeks.
Immediately, I look to see a
naked, young tear mix with the
former life of my knees,
and provide sound to the once muted film.
I now hear the laughter of a child,
of Me -
happy,
running through a meadow
in a pink sundress
with a bounty of wildflowers of varying colors:
a jellybean purple,
a summer time lemonade,
a marshmallow white.
I pick up one of each color and
hold them in my small pale hands.
Skipping, giggling, innocence arriving.
I lift my face to the one I've been waiting for all along
and realize
that I have already been made clean.
(Copyright, Alex Puleo: April 9, 2012)
moving with pictures of scenes of my life.
Eyelids flutter like the shutter lens of a camera
as I relive the snapshots thus far.
Some are easily identifiable;
high school graduation, first kiss, New Orleans,
others are hopes for the future,
family, travel, publish
and still,
others are foggy.
It's those moments,
the withered and torn
that outnumber the rest.
You see, the blurry is actually quite clear to me.
I've become an expert at closing the doors
to every ounce of happiness
suited up in a handsome penguin tuxedo
waiting patiently on my front step,
that I've forgotten what it's like to be loved
just because I am.
a daughter,
a sister,
a granddaughter,
a niece,
a friend,
a mentor,
a husband's future wife.
So, I come to terms with my brokenness
and inability to make things right again
and fall to my knees.
They are bruised from surrendering pieces of my life before -
but never fully exposed because I wore long pants
and long shirts,
to cover the hurt that I have endured.
My face makes love to the dirt floor
as I ask for your forgiveness;
for Your love once again.
And then, I feel something wet
fall from the place of sight
and caress my rosy red cheeks.
Immediately, I look to see a
naked, young tear mix with the
former life of my knees,
and provide sound to the once muted film.
I now hear the laughter of a child,
of Me -
happy,
running through a meadow
in a pink sundress
with a bounty of wildflowers of varying colors:
a jellybean purple,
a summer time lemonade,
a marshmallow white.
I pick up one of each color and
hold them in my small pale hands.
Skipping, giggling, innocence arriving.
I lift my face to the one I've been waiting for all along
and realize
that I have already been made clean.
(Copyright, Alex Puleo: April 9, 2012)
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Seasons
So, I haven't posted on my blog in a while. Here's a poem about this new stage of my life. Enjoy!
Seasons
Quiet.
Stillness.
Busyness, laughter,
kids.
Questions.
Hopes intermingled with
past dreams that have been
broken like a stalk of celery.
Confusion,
wonder,
like a child staring at dust floating in the air
and innocently smiling as it
finds it's home on the red and worn carpet.
New responsiblities emerge.
A tent serves as a makeshift home
as I try to find my way.
A season of self-discovery;
filled with potted plants
and bulbs that lay rooted
deep beneath the ground.
A cold frost over night threatens to
reject and stunt the new growth.
Yet, the potential of the
soon-to-be daffodils
remains unscathed.
I've received
an invitation to see life
from the perspective of a
newborn kitten.
Reaching up with my paw
to heights unknown
and to depths
untouched.
Swim in the sea
of new beginnings.
Climb aboard the wooden boat of forgiveness.
It's foundation encompasses a
history rich with meaning,
and it's deck is the firstfruits of a
lasting home.
Accept the pruning
that comes with cleaning house
and therefore,
moving on.
Prepare the way for something greater -
a feast, perhaps
garnished with cilantro and rosemary
and finished off with
a decadent chocolate cake.
(Copyright - Alex Puleo: April 1, 2012)
Seasons
Quiet.
Stillness.
Busyness, laughter,
kids.
Questions.
Hopes intermingled with
past dreams that have been
broken like a stalk of celery.
Confusion,
wonder,
like a child staring at dust floating in the air
and innocently smiling as it
finds it's home on the red and worn carpet.
New responsiblities emerge.
A tent serves as a makeshift home
as I try to find my way.
A season of self-discovery;
filled with potted plants
and bulbs that lay rooted
deep beneath the ground.
A cold frost over night threatens to
reject and stunt the new growth.
Yet, the potential of the
soon-to-be daffodils
remains unscathed.
I've received
an invitation to see life
from the perspective of a
newborn kitten.
Reaching up with my paw
to heights unknown
and to depths
untouched.
Swim in the sea
of new beginnings.
Climb aboard the wooden boat of forgiveness.
It's foundation encompasses a
history rich with meaning,
and it's deck is the firstfruits of a
lasting home.
Accept the pruning
that comes with cleaning house
and therefore,
moving on.
Prepare the way for something greater -
a feast, perhaps
garnished with cilantro and rosemary
and finished off with
a decadent chocolate cake.
(Copyright - Alex Puleo: April 1, 2012)
Saturday, February 25, 2012
The Face of a Deer
Staring into the oncoming car lights
on the sidewalk of a dimly lit street,
her hoofs are planted firmly on the worn and gray pavement.
Her stance speaks of a doe who has life all
picked out on her bed of fruit;
a red apple of garnet stones,
a stream of water to clothe her curves,
and sunlight to warm her tender soul.
Her graceful body is like the feather
of a dove finding its rest
on a carved green shrub.
Chestnut eyes reveal a future filled with hope,
and a past wrought with hurt.
Her soft brown ears are like the moccasins
I wear on my feet in the winter,
a protection against the bitter Arctic cold.
Her outer beauty has been misused and trampled on
as merely an animal to look at.
But, her caretaker has spotted deep within
an inner beauty coupled with a sweet fragrance.
She offers the world this luxurious perfume,
a scent so enticing that it lasts forever.
A friend set aside this free gift for her
long before she grew into four wobbly legs.
Now, she longs to spray it's healing power
into the lives of the other deer
and invite them to make their homes
in the fields of provision and purity.
(Copyright - Alex Puleo, Feb. 25, 2012)
on the sidewalk of a dimly lit street,
her hoofs are planted firmly on the worn and gray pavement.
Her stance speaks of a doe who has life all
picked out on her bed of fruit;
a red apple of garnet stones,
a stream of water to clothe her curves,
and sunlight to warm her tender soul.
Her graceful body is like the feather
of a dove finding its rest
on a carved green shrub.
Chestnut eyes reveal a future filled with hope,
and a past wrought with hurt.
Her soft brown ears are like the moccasins
I wear on my feet in the winter,
a protection against the bitter Arctic cold.
Her outer beauty has been misused and trampled on
as merely an animal to look at.
But, her caretaker has spotted deep within
an inner beauty coupled with a sweet fragrance.
She offers the world this luxurious perfume,
a scent so enticing that it lasts forever.
A friend set aside this free gift for her
long before she grew into four wobbly legs.
Now, she longs to spray it's healing power
into the lives of the other deer
and invite them to make their homes
in the fields of provision and purity.
(Copyright - Alex Puleo, Feb. 25, 2012)
Monday, February 20, 2012
To Be Known
To be known by anyone is a beautiful thing.
To be known by someone who created you; is even more beautiful.
Just think, if a clay pot knew itself, it wouldn't have as much as an effect as if the potter knew everything about the clay pot - every curve, every crack, every paint mark, every line.
To be known by God is a beautiful thing.
Now, before you click the big red X at the top corner of your screen, please take a moment to read on.
////////
"O Lord, you have searched me and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you preceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord.
You hem me in - behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
to lofty for me to attain.
Where can I go from your spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
for the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand.
When I awake,
I am still with you,
If only you would slay the wicked, O God!
Away from me, you blood thirsty men!
They speak of you with evil intent;
your adversaries misuse your name.
Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord,
and abhor those who rise up against you?
I have nothing but hatred for them;
I count them my enemies.
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting."
-Psalm 139
/////////////
God knows my thoughts.
He knows when my head gets up from my pillow,
when I walk from the kitchen to my bedroom,
when I get in my car to go to the grocery store,
when I talk with a friend on a phone.
God knows my thoughts.
He knows the words that I mumble under my breath,
He knows what I am thinking when a person cuts me off in traffic.
He knows the way I judge by appearances instead of looking inwardly at the heart.
He knows all of the days that have been before me -
He knows yesterday, today, and tomorrow
and all of my thoughts that will accompany each one.
God knows me.
He knows when I made (and make) mistakes.
He knows when I stumble and fall
and how long it takes me to get back up.
He knows my every being -
from my health, to the sound of my voice, to my unique rhythm of typing on the keyboard.
He knows my everyday routines.
He knows that I love to sleep in.
He knows when phone calls will come and my reaction to them even before I know who is calling.
He is my watcher and my protector.
He is my main man that stands guard outside my bedroom.
He cares for me and provides for my every need.
He is not a Hollywood movie star
but the only man who will sweep me off my feet
into a land of pure hopes, trials, and triumphs.
Yes, this is the God that I serve.
The who knows me so well that
despite all of my flaws
he chooses to still
love me.
To be known by someone who created you; is even more beautiful.
Just think, if a clay pot knew itself, it wouldn't have as much as an effect as if the potter knew everything about the clay pot - every curve, every crack, every paint mark, every line.
To be known by God is a beautiful thing.
Now, before you click the big red X at the top corner of your screen, please take a moment to read on.
////////
"O Lord, you have searched me and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you preceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord.
You hem me in - behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
to lofty for me to attain.
Where can I go from your spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
for the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand.
When I awake,
I am still with you,
If only you would slay the wicked, O God!
Away from me, you blood thirsty men!
They speak of you with evil intent;
your adversaries misuse your name.
Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord,
and abhor those who rise up against you?
I have nothing but hatred for them;
I count them my enemies.
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting."
-Psalm 139
/////////////
God knows my thoughts.
He knows when my head gets up from my pillow,
when I walk from the kitchen to my bedroom,
when I get in my car to go to the grocery store,
when I talk with a friend on a phone.
God knows my thoughts.
He knows the words that I mumble under my breath,
He knows what I am thinking when a person cuts me off in traffic.
He knows the way I judge by appearances instead of looking inwardly at the heart.
He knows all of the days that have been before me -
He knows yesterday, today, and tomorrow
and all of my thoughts that will accompany each one.
God knows me.
He knows when I made (and make) mistakes.
He knows when I stumble and fall
and how long it takes me to get back up.
He knows my every being -
from my health, to the sound of my voice, to my unique rhythm of typing on the keyboard.
He knows my everyday routines.
He knows that I love to sleep in.
He knows when phone calls will come and my reaction to them even before I know who is calling.
He is my watcher and my protector.
He is my main man that stands guard outside my bedroom.
He cares for me and provides for my every need.
He is not a Hollywood movie star
but the only man who will sweep me off my feet
into a land of pure hopes, trials, and triumphs.
Yes, this is the God that I serve.
The who knows me so well that
despite all of my flaws
he chooses to still
love me.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
My Valentine
My being aches with his pulse.
His flawless character is
combined with a desire to live
in a human being made up of flaws.
In a human being like me.
Humility draped over a couch
wrought from years of neglect and abandonment
patiently waits,
for someone to sit on his cushions once again.
I open the heavy metal door
and hear it creak like nails on a blackboard.
Its rectangular shape is cold against my pale and petite body.
The wind that blows through the trees
is the same wind that slams this door closed.
Is this a protection of sorts, from the world that lies behind and the one that awaits?
I journey down a wooden floor laden with petals of pink and red and blush.
Colors in an otherwise colorless world.
An artists true pallete.
My faded Nike sneakers pick up the dust inside in the walls of my own heart,
as the candelight casts shadows on the figure that sits
in front of me.
Eyes of pain and sorrow
interlock with eyes of childlike wonder.
The vase of healing stands at rapt attention in
the center of our small table.
I am a butterfly caught in the net of his fragile and vulnerable embrace.
He accepts me for who I am,
my identity is found in him alone.
I'm in awe that such a man would pick
such a girl like me.
So, instead of a heart shaped Russell Stover's chocolate box,
or a dozen roses standing next to babies breath,
or a balloon in the shape of my blood pumping muscle,
He gives me the promise of eternal life
always and forever,
in a field of zinnias.
(Copyright January 12, 2012 - Alex Puleo)
His flawless character is
combined with a desire to live
in a human being made up of flaws.
In a human being like me.
Humility draped over a couch
wrought from years of neglect and abandonment
patiently waits,
for someone to sit on his cushions once again.
I open the heavy metal door
and hear it creak like nails on a blackboard.
Its rectangular shape is cold against my pale and petite body.
The wind that blows through the trees
is the same wind that slams this door closed.
Is this a protection of sorts, from the world that lies behind and the one that awaits?
I journey down a wooden floor laden with petals of pink and red and blush.
Colors in an otherwise colorless world.
An artists true pallete.
My faded Nike sneakers pick up the dust inside in the walls of my own heart,
as the candelight casts shadows on the figure that sits
in front of me.
Eyes of pain and sorrow
interlock with eyes of childlike wonder.
The vase of healing stands at rapt attention in
the center of our small table.
I am a butterfly caught in the net of his fragile and vulnerable embrace.
He accepts me for who I am,
my identity is found in him alone.
I'm in awe that such a man would pick
such a girl like me.
So, instead of a heart shaped Russell Stover's chocolate box,
or a dozen roses standing next to babies breath,
or a balloon in the shape of my blood pumping muscle,
He gives me the promise of eternal life
always and forever,
in a field of zinnias.
(Copyright January 12, 2012 - Alex Puleo)
Saturday, January 21, 2012
The REAL Artist
Today, I learned the importance of letting go.
How, you ask? Well, by cleaning my room.
Cleaning my room helps to eliminate the dust that makes me sneeze. It helps me to think better. It helps me to put things back in order. Back into their right places. For example, a clothing designer originally intended for their shirts to be worn, washed, and placed back on a hanger. When I pick up a shirt that dropped on the floor and place it on a hanger and into my closet, I am restoring my shirt back to it's original purpose: to be worn, washed, and hung up.
In a similiar way, I believe that Jesus calls each of us to "clean house". He wants us to get rid of the dirt and dust that clogs our pores and makes breathing difficult. He wants us to work with him to put things back to what they were originally intended for. He longs for his creation to have the order that it once had in the Garden of Eden. Yet in our present world, to fulfill such a task is challenging. We certainly cannot go out and end world poverty or human trafficking in a day on our own. But, we can all take steps together to clean out the things in our lives that are unhealthy in an effort to show the world a picture of what God is like; a picture of what he originally wanted the world to be.
I had become very good about pushing my "stuff" further into the bag. I was an expert at tidying it up so it appeared acceptable to the eye. Yet, as I went through all of my college things this afternoon, I realized that I hadn't allowed myself to let go. All the papers and notes I had saved were helpful and necessary during school, but I had held on to them for far too long. And so, I began reliving my past as I placed each piece of paper into the recycling bin.
Today, I learned the importance of letting go.
And with letting go, comes rearrangement. So, I decided to rearrange my furniture. I removed the old pictures from high school off of my walls and replaced them with new and updated pictures. I even created a small space where I can go to pray.
From my cleaning escapades, I've learned a few things. First, I naturally need to identify and clean out the clutter (both physically and spiritually) in my life. A flower cannot blossom if it's growth is stunted due to weeds, litter, a lack of water, and food.
Second, I need to learn to let go of the clutter. It's one thing to pull out the clutter into the light, but it's another thing to actually place it in the trash, to give away old textbooks and novels. Sometimes, I feel that we can become too emotionally attached to material items. There is an obvious balance that needs to be maintained. Every person, every situation, is different. A child may sleep with his blanket until he's 6 but then may not elect to use it as he gets older. He may decide to keep it, however when he moves out on his own as an item that triggers a positive memory. As I cleaned my room, I discovered that there were items, (similiar to the purpose that the blanket serves for a child) that I have kept. Though I outgrew these items, I stored them in a corner of my room. I knew deep within me that I needed to part with them, but I never took that first step.
On this Saturday afternoon, I did.
Today, I learned that importance of letting go.
Finally, I need to rearrange the furniture from its present spot, bring in the vaccuum cleaner, and commit to moving forward in this new living space. When I rearrange the furniture (like my bookcase) I am communicating that I am ready for a new perspective. Everyone has spiritual furniture that needs to be rearranged, cared for, and loved. This part must be accomplished together. Next, the vaccuum cleaner comes in to remove all those dust mites, paper clips, hair ties, etc. Then, I must vow to live in this new space, to adopt this changed perspective as my own, and to embark on each new day with a positive mindset.
All this to say, I believe that God longs for us, wants us, actually commands us to clean out the clutter in our lives. Engaging in such a task may very well cause us to sweat, to get dirty, to become thirsty - but in the end, it's all worth the sacrifice. We are called to embody this new life as our own. We must be willing to show and to share our lives (both the dirt filled and the flower filled) with others. When we do this wholeheartedly, a gorgeous painting emerges from the depths of our souls designed by our very own artist, Jesus.
How, you ask? Well, by cleaning my room.
Cleaning my room helps to eliminate the dust that makes me sneeze. It helps me to think better. It helps me to put things back in order. Back into their right places. For example, a clothing designer originally intended for their shirts to be worn, washed, and placed back on a hanger. When I pick up a shirt that dropped on the floor and place it on a hanger and into my closet, I am restoring my shirt back to it's original purpose: to be worn, washed, and hung up.
In a similiar way, I believe that Jesus calls each of us to "clean house". He wants us to get rid of the dirt and dust that clogs our pores and makes breathing difficult. He wants us to work with him to put things back to what they were originally intended for. He longs for his creation to have the order that it once had in the Garden of Eden. Yet in our present world, to fulfill such a task is challenging. We certainly cannot go out and end world poverty or human trafficking in a day on our own. But, we can all take steps together to clean out the things in our lives that are unhealthy in an effort to show the world a picture of what God is like; a picture of what he originally wanted the world to be.
I had become very good about pushing my "stuff" further into the bag. I was an expert at tidying it up so it appeared acceptable to the eye. Yet, as I went through all of my college things this afternoon, I realized that I hadn't allowed myself to let go. All the papers and notes I had saved were helpful and necessary during school, but I had held on to them for far too long. And so, I began reliving my past as I placed each piece of paper into the recycling bin.
Today, I learned the importance of letting go.
And with letting go, comes rearrangement. So, I decided to rearrange my furniture. I removed the old pictures from high school off of my walls and replaced them with new and updated pictures. I even created a small space where I can go to pray.
From my cleaning escapades, I've learned a few things. First, I naturally need to identify and clean out the clutter (both physically and spiritually) in my life. A flower cannot blossom if it's growth is stunted due to weeds, litter, a lack of water, and food.
Second, I need to learn to let go of the clutter. It's one thing to pull out the clutter into the light, but it's another thing to actually place it in the trash, to give away old textbooks and novels. Sometimes, I feel that we can become too emotionally attached to material items. There is an obvious balance that needs to be maintained. Every person, every situation, is different. A child may sleep with his blanket until he's 6 but then may not elect to use it as he gets older. He may decide to keep it, however when he moves out on his own as an item that triggers a positive memory. As I cleaned my room, I discovered that there were items, (similiar to the purpose that the blanket serves for a child) that I have kept. Though I outgrew these items, I stored them in a corner of my room. I knew deep within me that I needed to part with them, but I never took that first step.
On this Saturday afternoon, I did.
Today, I learned that importance of letting go.
Finally, I need to rearrange the furniture from its present spot, bring in the vaccuum cleaner, and commit to moving forward in this new living space. When I rearrange the furniture (like my bookcase) I am communicating that I am ready for a new perspective. Everyone has spiritual furniture that needs to be rearranged, cared for, and loved. This part must be accomplished together. Next, the vaccuum cleaner comes in to remove all those dust mites, paper clips, hair ties, etc. Then, I must vow to live in this new space, to adopt this changed perspective as my own, and to embark on each new day with a positive mindset.
All this to say, I believe that God longs for us, wants us, actually commands us to clean out the clutter in our lives. Engaging in such a task may very well cause us to sweat, to get dirty, to become thirsty - but in the end, it's all worth the sacrifice. We are called to embody this new life as our own. We must be willing to show and to share our lives (both the dirt filled and the flower filled) with others. When we do this wholeheartedly, a gorgeous painting emerges from the depths of our souls designed by our very own artist, Jesus.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
The REAL Milk and Chocolate Chip Cookies
"Do you think I could take this milk home, too?" he asked.
He wanted his sisters to have the full experience - not just the warm cookies, but the warm cookies and milk."
-Excerpt from An Invisible Thread by Laura Schroff
Reading this quote today about how a middle class white woman befriended an 11 year old young boy who was a panhandler made me think:
-For my friends who identify themselves as followers of Jesus -how often do we give people the full experience of knowing Him? The cookies and the milk?
-For my friends who are teachers, college students, parents, etc. - how often do we give our children, co-workers, and family the full experience of life free from gossip, coarse language, anger, resentment, grudges, etc? The cookies and the milk?
These questions make me wonder how often I have gotten in the way of Jesus being able to show people his true self and of jumping right in to provide my students with answers instead of allowing them room to explore, create, and experiment. From personal experience and observing our society today, I know that our culture often seeks a "look at me" mentality. Over the past year, I have been learning that God can work without me. He doesn't need me but chooses to use me to fulfill his greater work for the world. As a teacher, I've learned that surrendering the limelight to my students has opened my eyes to a creation full of potential and wonderous beauty.
The cross cultural duty that stretches over open seas is this: being a faithful friend, a trusted confidante, and a avid listener.
Elizabeth Lawrence writes:
"There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again."
I believe that the challenge for all of us lies in coloring the pages of our neighbors souls so that we may experience the radiant hue that our Creator originally intended for our world to have.
He wanted his sisters to have the full experience - not just the warm cookies, but the warm cookies and milk."
-Excerpt from An Invisible Thread by Laura Schroff
Reading this quote today about how a middle class white woman befriended an 11 year old young boy who was a panhandler made me think:
-For my friends who identify themselves as followers of Jesus -how often do we give people the full experience of knowing Him? The cookies and the milk?
-For my friends who are teachers, college students, parents, etc. - how often do we give our children, co-workers, and family the full experience of life free from gossip, coarse language, anger, resentment, grudges, etc? The cookies and the milk?
These questions make me wonder how often I have gotten in the way of Jesus being able to show people his true self and of jumping right in to provide my students with answers instead of allowing them room to explore, create, and experiment. From personal experience and observing our society today, I know that our culture often seeks a "look at me" mentality. Over the past year, I have been learning that God can work without me. He doesn't need me but chooses to use me to fulfill his greater work for the world. As a teacher, I've learned that surrendering the limelight to my students has opened my eyes to a creation full of potential and wonderous beauty.
The cross cultural duty that stretches over open seas is this: being a faithful friend, a trusted confidante, and a avid listener.
Elizabeth Lawrence writes:
"There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again."
I believe that the challenge for all of us lies in coloring the pages of our neighbors souls so that we may experience the radiant hue that our Creator originally intended for our world to have.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Training Wheels and the Wide Eyed Wonder of a Child
Major events in my life seem to happen in "fours".
Much has changed since I last stepped foot in my high school. For one, I am not in high school anymore. Second, I am not the shy person that I once was. I see myself as having considerable drive, trying to put others needs before my own, and making the most out of each day (though we all fail at this from time to time.)
Today, I went back to visit my high school for an alumni vs. students basketball game. As I sat on the bleachers watching the ball glide thru the air and the crowd go wild for a three pointer, I found myself in a very strange but familiar place. You could say that I was in a collision. On one end of the spectrum, I was completely done with high school. I saw new students walk through the doors of the gymnasium that I've never seen before and talked with friends about where they were in their college journeys. Many families sat in the rows in front of me on the bleachers with their kids. And I thought, "Wow, time flies."
On the other side of the spectrum, I saw myself completely finished with college. All those memories gathered up in photos, handwritten cards, and emails that were selected to be in the "saved mail" folder. And so, I saw myself sitting between these two points of my life (ironically four years each) and wondering which side feels wierder. Or, maybe "wierder" isn't the best word but rather, which side feels more "wow." I came to the realization that neither side outweighed the other; but that it's a place where I've never found myself in before.
You see, when I transitioned from high school to college, many of my friends were also coming with me. Finding my wings was challenging, but I had some familiar faces that I saw in passing from class to class. In college, I found a great group of friends (or perhaps, they found me) that really nurtured me in my physicial, emotional, and spiritual life. Now, I see myself as a post-grad, completely awestruck about the work that God has done. I am a child staring up at the ball coasting thru the air, wondering "what's next?" I am speechless yet excited about what will happen in this new chapter of my life. It's almost like I've been riding with training wheels forever and I'm ready for them to come off. God is ready, too. I see him the holding the bicycle seat, giving me a push, and saying "go."
But, "go" where?
Perhaps, that story is the next four years of my life.
Much has changed since I last stepped foot in my high school. For one, I am not in high school anymore. Second, I am not the shy person that I once was. I see myself as having considerable drive, trying to put others needs before my own, and making the most out of each day (though we all fail at this from time to time.)
Today, I went back to visit my high school for an alumni vs. students basketball game. As I sat on the bleachers watching the ball glide thru the air and the crowd go wild for a three pointer, I found myself in a very strange but familiar place. You could say that I was in a collision. On one end of the spectrum, I was completely done with high school. I saw new students walk through the doors of the gymnasium that I've never seen before and talked with friends about where they were in their college journeys. Many families sat in the rows in front of me on the bleachers with their kids. And I thought, "Wow, time flies."
On the other side of the spectrum, I saw myself completely finished with college. All those memories gathered up in photos, handwritten cards, and emails that were selected to be in the "saved mail" folder. And so, I saw myself sitting between these two points of my life (ironically four years each) and wondering which side feels wierder. Or, maybe "wierder" isn't the best word but rather, which side feels more "wow." I came to the realization that neither side outweighed the other; but that it's a place where I've never found myself in before.
You see, when I transitioned from high school to college, many of my friends were also coming with me. Finding my wings was challenging, but I had some familiar faces that I saw in passing from class to class. In college, I found a great group of friends (or perhaps, they found me) that really nurtured me in my physicial, emotional, and spiritual life. Now, I see myself as a post-grad, completely awestruck about the work that God has done. I am a child staring up at the ball coasting thru the air, wondering "what's next?" I am speechless yet excited about what will happen in this new chapter of my life. It's almost like I've been riding with training wheels forever and I'm ready for them to come off. God is ready, too. I see him the holding the bicycle seat, giving me a push, and saying "go."
But, "go" where?
Perhaps, that story is the next four years of my life.
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