On Invitation

2014 - Change. 2015 - Growth.

2016 - Invite.

Most years around Christmas, I spend some time reflecting on the year past, and praying about the year future. Sometimes, God gives me a word, an impression, a picture of something to be. In 2014, it was the word change... I didn't like that one so much. But change it was - some good, some not at all. 2015 was a year of stretching. Good growth. Not always easy but looking back, it was a richly blessed year.

And now in thinking of this year, the word Invite came.

"Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hear my voice and open, I will come in." Open the door; invite me in. Step aside so I can enter.

Another parable goes... One day a master decided to throw a big banquet. "Go out into the highways and the byways. Invite them to my dinner."

Not everyone excepted the master's offer. But that wasn't the servants' responsibility. The task was to invite.

This is a year to invite. Beckon people in. "Taste and see that the Lord is good." Don't force. Don't coerce. But don't assume that just because people may (and will) turn you down, you shouldn't extend the invitation. Gently and lovingly say "This is what God has done for me. This is what His love has looked like in my life. Won't you come and meet Him too?"

Invite them to the feast.

On Oma

I spent time with a wonderful woman tonight.

84. Widowed. Frail of body. Four-point-five weeks healed from a fall that broke her pelvis. Strong of mind. Full of stories to tell.

"I have a harder time with your families birthdays," she says. "You were always the farthest away." A hint of regret.

That was a fact. I didn't spend much time with this Oma growing up. Which made the three hours we spent talking tonight even more special. 

Just us. And the pets.

Pets. Children. Family. Society. Faith. We covered them all.

And then the stories came. Stories of her married years, when my dad was growing up. Stories of rescuing raccoons, and a pigeon, and piglets, and a goose. Stories of overprotective dogs and the men that secretly loved them (apparently my Opa and my dad are alike that way). Stories made sweeter by their newness to me. My Opa died when I was three; I have one treasured memory.

Then we went back a bit further. Growing up in the war. Stories she told me, heroic I. Nature, yet told as though that was just life. The way it was. My ancestors hiding Jews, being arrested, being liberated; stories of curfew and disobedient trips to the doctor in the middle of the night to get medication for an ailing mother; stories of (my personal favourite) my Oma, a twelve year old girl, and her brother, stealing supplies from a German outpost to make... a toboggan!

What a glorious gift this was, this connecting just the two of us. To learn from her, to gain anothers' perspective, to see the wisdom of her years. 

I talk to a lot of people, have many conversations, but this one... this one I will hold especially dear.

On the clock

Sigh.

I spent a lot of time looking at calendars today. Not to buy one. Not because the art was awesome. But my brain was pushing this: I need to survive the next seven weeks. And after that, I need to get this long list done in the next two months. And after that, the next year.

And staring at a calendar, at a clock, gives me the illusion that if I stare at, write down, plan, work hard enough, I can make it happen.

Now, I'm not saying burn all the calendars. As a teacher, my work life is ruled by the clock... bell for recess, bell for lunch, bell for bus. Gym schedule, computer schedule, classes. Calendars are essential. Long range plans. Upcoming events.

But, I can go too far. I can convince myself that it is my doing, my planning, that will get me through my schedule. I neglect grace.

Instead of writing "34 days left to get everything done," my time would be better spent writing "Trust in the Lord" on my heart.

Instead of stressing that family camping will take three days, that I forgot to schedule, out of my carefully planned summer life, I should really be thanking God for a blessed time to spend with the blessing of my family. 

I literally have April through August planned out, almost day to day. That doesn't leave alot of time to look for God in my days. Being focused on doing often means missing the seeing. The seeing of God's love and truth in the everyday.

So as I go, consulting clocks and bells and calendars, they will be tools. Tools to plan ahead, yes; tools to fulfill my responsibilities, yes - but not taskmasters. I will look up at life rather than down at my schedule. I will focus on the people around me to enjoy, rather than the list in front of me to be done.

I will be present.

On struggle

I cried today. 

Not the gentle mist in the eyes kind of cry. The I'm-in-public-but-I-can't-turn-off-the-faucet kind of cry.

For many reasons. Hurting friends. A grieving community. An overwhelming work schedule. Changes approaching in life. And mostly because Satan was taking all of those things plus a myriad of insecurities and hurtling them at me in attack after attack. And what should have been a joyful week for me, one of celebrating a good change, a blessing, turned into a struggle.

So at church, I cried. Starting the second the chords of "Lord, I Need You" began. And then again through every other song. And again when my brother asked at the end of my Sunday School lesson why I was cried in church. And again when my parents asked if I was okay. And  again when someone else did. And again in the car talking to my sister. And again when I was talking to God.

I've been struggling.

What follows is an excerpt from my prayer journal.

"I should know by now that pressing into you harder when struggles come is way more effective than pretending I'm not struggling.

But still I fail and learn again anyway.

My heart has not been quiet. Still. Peaceful. It has been anxious. Upset. Grieving. Doubting. Shameful.

Why is it that Satan can steal my joy and I don't notice? This should have been a joyful week... But instead he whispers... "You aren't good enough. You will fail. People will be disappointed in you. You won't be good enough. You are not good enough."

But I am. Because You made me. Because You call me by name. Because You have taken my guilt and shame to the cross and I bear it no more.

Praise the Lord, Oh my soul.

I know that, God. But still I struggle.

Help me."

A cry from an honest heart to a loving father.

And He answers. 

As my anxioius spirit juxtaposes the quiet of my bedroom, as I sip David's mint chocolate tea (God bless David), my Abba listens. And my heart knows that His heart knows. As I'm looking through my Bible for a verse, I come across two things. A bookmark. Made by a friend over eight years ago. On the back is written "To remind you that I'm praying for you!" Next a card - a prayer from a mentor and a friend. In it, the words "Go in Grace - You are human. Allow yourself to be! Go in strength - may your Almighty, living God be faithful to equip you for every task and relationship He calls you to." 

Encouragement.

And then. Words from the Father Himself. Sing, daughter. The Lord has taken away your judgments. The Lord is in your midst.... the Mighty One will save; Sarah, I will rejoice over you with gladness, I will quiet you with my love."

 

Promise.

On Wonder

It's been a while. Like, a year, since I've written a post. A lot has happened. I've graduated, moved out, found a job. I'm teaching at two Christian schools in my area. And maybe someday I'll write about what that was like... and about first year teaching... and about how much life teaches you.

But for today, this Sunday, this day especially dedicated to the worship and the admiration of the Creator, I'm reflecting on a few experiences I've had recently.

It's easy, when you've gone to church all your life, heard all the cliches, been to the services, to lose the big picture - the wonder that Jesus actually did come down to earth as a baby, lived, died a horrible death, and wonder-of-wonders rose again! Ask a new Christian - that is just WOW!

But I don't always feel that. I'm so very blessed that I know it and have heard it so often, but I don't want to forget that it's an awesome gift. I don't want to take it for granted.

Thankfully - God knows me. Better than I know me.

A few weeks ago, I was at church, and the band was doing a great job. It was one of those mornings for me where worship is a choice you make, but the emotion isn't necessarily there. I was tired. I wa a bit down, struggling with some stuff. While I was singing, I happened to look towards the front side. And there was a boy... I'll call him S. I've known S since he was young. He is on the autism spectrum and very special to my heart. And he was in the very front, rocking back and forth to the music. And he was smiling. Not gentle in-my-own-world smiling, but a wow-this-is-awesome grin. 

Like, wow-this-is-awesome. Amazing love, how can it be, that you my King have died for me!

This was my first reminder. 

Then last night, the youth of our church put on a service for their peers who either were not following Christ or who were just riding the coat-tails of their parents' faith. This group, around twelve of them, had come to our lay pastor after a trip and admitted their struggle with faith and their desire to press in. And now, six months later, they took their passion to their friends. It was amazing.

Music, worship, dance, etc. but two things especially. 1. Their testimonies to their peers. Their willingness to be vulnerable and not-cool for the gospel. To  use their gifts for Him. 2. The last part of the program was a call to respond. The team went out and just prayed. There were tears, laughter, and hearts tugged to the Father. I cried.

I'm a teacher. I teach students between the ages of Junior Kindergarten and Grade 8. I know highschoolers. And I see kids start in a Christian school in the primary grades excited about God and faith and life. And I see it die. I see kids become less wowed by God's love and more drawn towards the loves of the world. And it hurts me. I went to a Christian university. I saw people dedicated to their faith and I saw amazing things happen, but I also saw peers who were just there to get away from their parents and party their years away. Despite all the opportunities there was to grow. And it hurts me. 

Watching those teens step our in faith in front of their peers was a reminder to me. That God is still in the business of redemption. That even though we are living in a world of 50 Shades and pornography addiction and sexting and apathy, and even though I look at these kids that I know and it sometimes looks like they don't have a chance to make the right choices, that God fights our battles for us. And ensures the victory.

On transitions.

(c) Sarah Kuipers

I handed in my last assignment today.
I wrote my last exam.
I've had my last class.
I'm packing everything up from this school for the last time.
Anything other 'lasts' that come to my mind just sound mushy and extreme.

I am starting to really dislike the word 'last.'

When people ask how it feels, this is usually my reaction "Weeeeird. It feels very strange."

I know, not very articulate. But I'm still having a hard time putting my finger on it. It's another one of those things that make you feel two completely opposite things at once. I feel proud of the fact that coursework is done. And I will NOT miss writing exams or essays. And I am very much looking forward to placement.

But, I love my school. I have so many wonderful friends here. I love and am loved. I belong. And I will miss it.

(c) Sarah Kuipers

I am blessed.

I'm also scared. When you are preschool, your next bunch of years, you just know, are going to be in school. When you are in high school, you're pretty sure you have four years of college/university ahead of you. But right now? I don't have a clue what's next. So I'm scared.

But I'm not in charge of my life (thank goodness); the Creator is.

I am blessed.

This is my choice. I will be sad. I will cry, most likely, when I say bye. But, my decision, the choice I make, is to thank my Father for the blessings. Innumerable blessings.

Blessing my finances every year, faithfully, so I could keep coming back.
Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful friends and peers.

(c) Sarah Kuipers

A great program that has equipped me for my future career as an educator.
Fantastic, caring profs.
Opportunities to be involved.
Spiritual growth.
Community.
Acceptance.

And most of all, the knowledge that my God will be faithful to me in the future, as He is in the present and has been in the past.

On everything and nothing. On anchors. On the Anchor

Everything and nothing.

That seems like my answer to everything right about now. What are you thinking for jobs? Every option, nothing for certain. What are you thinking about right now? Mind=whirlwind: everything, which means I'm thinking nothing effectively. What are you doing? Same thing. 

In the past seven days, I have: contemplated living in a different country, gave blood -> got sick, decided to move if need be for a job, considered working in Europe for the summer, finished a knitting project, did readings, decided not to do some readings, ran an event, had group meetings, had conversations, had other meetings, took my grad photos, went grocery shopping, attended class, stayed up too late, blogged for school, memorized a verse, worked ahead on some assignments, procrastinated on others... and that is the short list.

In my program, many students experience this. In the school - hundreds. In the province - thousands. It's not unique to me. It's not unique to students. And, it is truthfully a blessed busy. A blessed everything and nothing. I am incredibly blessed to be in this place.

Back to the everything and nothing... every person processes things differently. Right now, I'm blogging after some prayer, piano playing, and scripture memorization time. I'm listening to worship music. This is my processing. To reflect on everything and nothing, to write, to sing, to pray, to knit, to read, to pick out a song on the piano.

So, this post comes from my need to actually think. About one thing. Meaningfully. To step out of the cycle of everything and nothing. This post is for me, today. Because I need to not only say some things, but to hear some things. So if you're reading this, bear with me, as I'm writing a letter to myself.

Dear Sarah, what holds you? More accurately, who holds you? What brings everything and nothing together? What carries that paradox? Remember when you memorized the first verse of January? Say it now - "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." Remember how that first week coming back, it anchored you? You saw it on the back of your phone or on your wall and it made you take a breath. "In the beginning was the Word." God is here. God has been preparing you for this impending graduation. You're scared. It's more scary than any other transition you've been through, I think. But that's okay. He's been talking to you for a year about roots in a place (geographical, relational, spiritual). He's been showing you that your anchor much always be Him and Him alone. "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us." He dwells here. With. In. So as you do everything and nothing, as you sometimes avoid the hard questions and sometimes dive headlong into them, don't forget your Anchor.

As I thought about this, I remembered the song "Jesus is the answer." You know the one - the version you heard is probably sung by a black gospel choir, with feeling, and mmmm's in the background that make you want to sway side to side. As I heard it in my head just now, the lyrics changed a bit...

"Jesus is your anchor, in your world today. Above Him there's no other; Jesus is the way." 

On placement.

Well, in my very first blog post, I mentioned that this was going to be a space for me to get my thoughts out, whether my audience was One or one hundred. So this post is going to be a bit scattered. Maybe it will end up having a theme... I don't know. Often a theme comes out through my writing and processing that I didn't even know was there.

First of all, life has been pretty busy from the last post. I went from an extremely intense two months of classes to an even more intense placement experience. I was in a 1/2 classroom in the public school in my hometown... and I loved it. I was unsure of the school climate and quality going into the placement - people talk, and more often about the bad than the good. However, I was welcomed immediately by staff and students alike, and was pleased to find an honest desire to educate the whole child to the best of our abilities. As I began teaching the class (Scary. Very scary. Especially when the teacher is staring at you.) from my very first lesson, I realized in a deeper way my love for the profession.

Each student is so incredibly unique. While I've seen that in different contexts, it's somehow different when you walk into a class and twenty students with differing backgrounds, learning needs, personalities, and fears are trusting you to help them. I learned more about differentiated learning in the first week than I had in two years of hearing lectures about it. I learned more about student engagement in that time than you can find in any textbook.

Some lessons were great - I felt like I was on top of the world... my students were engaged, my difficult students were well-behaved, and the lessons went flawlessly. But not every day was like that. I had lessons that struggled. One in particular that bombed. I had students who made me laugh (constantly! "Mrs. Kuiperseses, why aren't you married?" "Mrs. Kuiperseses, why did you mess up on the Smart Board?" Mrs. Kuiperseses, why can't I poke him?" "Mrs. Kuiperses, why is that the tens place? What about the fives place?"). And I had students - more specifically, student home situations - that made me cry. But it was important for me to go through that learning. To "fall forward" as Ann Voskamp says. Learn from it. Move forward and redeem that time. Pray for those families. Rework that lesson.

I can't help but think that the classroom reflects some larger life truths.
That the most exhausting experiences are often because they are the biggest learning experiences.
That the people who you struggle with the most become incredibly special to you, with Christ's help.
That the most wonderful feeling is helping someone who needs it.
That an honest and deep desire to love people will show, and will impact the people around you.
That you can never tell about a place by what you hear about them.
That being intentional makes a big impact on the people you are around (whether you are intentional about learning, about community, about relationship, etc.)

It turns out that the biggest wisdom really does come "from the mouth of babes."

On God and the Grand Canyon

I haven't written for a while. I'm back at school and busy is not a strong enough word to explain what the last month has been like. But that is not my focus. Today, the focus is the greatness of my God. The beauty of my Saviour. Almost a month ago, I was at the Grand Canyon. The words of this post were written in Arizona, put on borrowed notebook paper in my messy handwriting, 
and reflect the wonder I felt at that place.

"All the earth worships Thee; they sing praises to Thee, sing praises to Thy name" - Psalms 66:4

What else can be said?

Every lookout at the Grand Canyon was beyond words.

If I could paint...
If I could write...
If I could capture in any way the height and depth of the beauty, I would.

But I can't. Overwhelmed to the point of tears. The beauty is too much.
In every light.
Around every bend.


Even the night sky is stunning - millions of stars shining. The Milky Way a bright ribbon through the black of night.

Breathtaking.

I have a picture in mind, when I look at the Canyon, of my Creator, dipping in His finger there to make a gorge, another winding trail there, and delicately scraping off a layer here and a layer there, adding glorious columns of magnificence when it fancied Him.

Creating beauty.

Creating a masterpiece.

We go back to the Canyon at sunrise. Breathtaking. A long rest as we watch the sun rise. A new day begins. Spirit rest.

After breakfast, a drive to Hermit's Rest. More incredible panoramas - Canyon on all three sides.

Pictures taken, we begin the drive back, awed by the beauty that God has gifted us with. He is here, with me in that moment.

What can I do but worship?

       

 

         

   

On seasons.

WORD OF THE DAY:

1. conflicted  past participle, past tense of con·flict (Verb)

   Verb Be incompatible or at variance; clash. Having or showing confused and mutually inconsistent feelings.

It seems to me that as soon as you get used to a season, life changes on you and moves on to the next.

Life is never boring that way, I guess.

I've just gotten used to summer, and in a week it is over. Not the actually weather season, but the season of my life. The summer job is over, and school is about to begin.

And I'm conflicted.

I'm so excited for my trip to the States in a week and for school directly after that - seeing all of my friends and taking classes that I am passionate about. But I've enjoyed my work and have felt blessed...I'm back into the rhythm of summer...

I'm having "mutually inconsistent feelings."

Sad and happy. Reluctant but eager. Holding on but anticipating what is next.

And, silly me, kind of protesting it. "Why? Why must there always be change and this weird I-don't-know-how-to-feel? How do you be content when you aren't in one 'state' to be content in, but you have two states?"

I'm referring to Paul, when he says in Philippians 4:11, "I have learned in whatsoever state I am to be content." But I wasn't sure how to do this verse when you are not really in one season, but in between.

And it came to me: perhaps the secret is thankfulness.

Seeing God's grace in the changing of the seasons.

Seeing His blessings in the beauty of both seasons. Appreciating the remaining heat of summer while appreciating the changing colors, if you will.

Being content by giving thanks. Solving this "conflicted" feeling by replacing it with the act of giving thanks. My feelings will follow.

How blessed am I! To be sad to leave the place I've been but be happy to arrive at the place I'm going.

Does this not reflect our seasons of life? This temporal life now - God has made it good. Not always fun, but overall, we like this life. He has created it with joy and beauty as He restores the brokenness and hurt. So we are sad to leave it, or to see others leave it.

But yet we are anticipating the life to come - when this season of life is on earth, we are excited for the next one, happy when we arrive at the next.

How beautiful...

What an opportunity for gratitude, this conflicted-ness within me. An opportunity to be thankful that I am sad to be leaving a wonderful season and to be thankful that I am anticipating a wonderful season.

In focus.

                                                                                                    Photo by Sarah Kuipers - July 2012              

Isn't it wonderful how God prepares us? How He knows our every thought and longing and struggle? Ahead of time? 

That blows my mind.

Last week, I was in a really good place. I've been struck these last few weeks with such a desire, a longing, for God's own heart, that it almost hurts.

My heart is seeking His, with a new intensity.

I felt so very focused on Him. It was glory. His glory.

As I marveled at this last week, praying it out, reading Scripture, thinking... I started thinking of how that unity, that sight and focus, is always there. I just don't always see it. Because I don't focus.

Something to know about me - I like metaphors. They help me, so usually when God is teaching me something, I wrestle with it by struggling with metaphor until I find (or God gets me to understand) one that fits.

This week, thinking about all-consuming desire and focus on God started as a mental diagram. Me and God. Nothing in between.

What happens when I stop focusing? Me and God with a problem in the middle, keeping me from seeing Him?

This is what it seemed like - my metaphor - at first. Me, and something solid, like wood or concrete, blocking my view. But that didn't quite seem to fit. I don't think anything ever comes into our path that is so opaque that we cannot see God in it and through it (although sometimes that focus is much, much harder than other times).

Perhaps, just perhaps, instead of it being a hard object, it is more like a mist. A cloud. Tiny water droplets that obstruct my view but don't obscure it. Little drops that when together make visibility difficult.

Perhaps then, it is my focus, not the problem, that keeps me from that unity with Him.

Allow me another analogy. In photography, you can set your f-stop or aperture to increase or decrease your depth-of-field - what is in focus or what is not.

When I focus on that mist, I have a shallow depth-of-field. The droplets are in focus but everything else (including God) is blurred. Hazy. Should I choose to expand that focus, everything becomes clear. Having God in focus keeps Him as my focal point, my purpose for the "photograph," and then the mist is clear too.

Thinking back on the last few days, God knew that I needed to know this. I've struggled this week. Many hours at work and not enough soul rest.

Perhaps I have narrowed my focus. Perhaps I have spent so much time looking at the water droplets that I forgot to focus on the God who I didn't see but never left.

Maybe I even let my lens break a little. But, thanks be to God, He takes joy in taking the broken things in life, in my life and in yours, fixing the crack in the lens and the error in aperture, and restoring them to make it beautiful again, for His kingdom and because of His love.

Objectified by men, valued by God.

***EDIT: I decided to post this. Not because it is comfortable (this is pushing the boundaries of my vulnerability - this one is requiring courage), but because I believe God asked me to and because I feel like I am not the only woman who has or will face this - how to declare God's truth about yourself when a man insinuates otherwise. 

Be blessed. In God's love and truth, be blessed.***

This might be one of those posts that I write but never publish. If you're reading it, then I guess I decided to press that button.

A man made a sexual comment to me today. It's not so much that I've never had people make sexual jokes around me or even to me - that sadly seems to be what happens when you work in a secular workplace. But he made this about me and to me.

It hurt. Not in a piercing sort of way, but in a devaluing sort of way. In that one sentence, he made me feel less than me. Less than a person. Less than a woman whose heart has been made beautiful and valued by Her Creator.

I can't really explain how much it bothered me. Maybe I should have had an easier time letting go. But I didn't. I couldn't shake that feeling of somehow being less. Being dirty, even though I did nothing to provoke the comment.

I couldn't shake it.

I closed the store by myself tonight, and on the walk from the store, across the field to the staff parking lot, I prayed. Out loud.

I prayed truth - that I am a daughter, most treasured by my Father the King. I prayed truth - that what one man said could not reduce my value. I prayed truth - that I can forgive the man who said that because I have a great God who forgave me.

Yet, that feeling clung to me. Maybe I clung to it. It was something that kept coming back during the evening.

I opened my Bible tonight, knowing I needed to refocus. I'm reading Isaiah right now, and the section I'm reading discusses how despite Israel having a God who loved them, they worshiped other idols. They held on to other things instead of God.

After I read, as I closed my Bible, I came across a prayer note tucked in my Bible that I had written during the school year.

In it, I thanked God for the girls in my dorm. For my friends. For my family.
But the next part of that letter, written months ago, stopped me.

"Bless x---, x---, x---, and x---. Please help me mean that.

Your love is strong.

You give so much, gave so much. I don't know how to thank you for that. I stand in awe of You.

S." 

I had listed by name people who had hurt me or people close to me. People who had been hard to forgive, that I still struggled with loving.

Reading this, including the thanks and the awe of God, made me remember where my focus needed to lie, when trying to love someone when it was hard.

My focus, when reconciling the feelings of disgust that arose from this incident, needs to be on the wonder of the God who calls me Pure, Beautiful, and Precious.

This is one more way that God brings beauty in brokenness - taking something harmful, a comment reflecting the brokenness of sin, and taking that shame away that is not mine to have, showing me the beauty of His love for me.

Perfected.

Heaven.

It's been on my mind a lot lately.

First, because I was thinking about how what we see now are glimpses of truth.

It puts things into perspective.

Not having a morning coffee? Not so important when you consider eternity. Sister borrowed something without asking? A friend posted an unattractive pic on Facebook? A bit less important when you consider that "we are a vapor."

Heaven is beauty perfected, to a level we cannot even fathom.
The kind of beauty that makes you cry.

Heaven is relationship perfected, with God and man.
The kind of relationship that makes you whole.

Heaven is learning, and discovering, and worshiping.

Learning perfected.

Discovering perfected.

Worshiping perfected.

I used to think that heaven was singing and harp playing with the angels. And that was it. I thought it would be boring.

The more I learn of God, of myself, of Scripture.... the more I'm convinced that it's not like that.

Heaven, ultimately, is my perfected self, as a child of God, being in perfect Unity, perfect Relationship, with the Holy One.

Tozer once wrote that we will be ourselves in heaven. I love children here, so how much fun will I have with the little ones that God brought home early. I love studying, but instead of books I will be able to ask Augustine  about the early church. I can ask Moses what it was like leading a whole nation across the desert and through a sea. I can ask John what it was like to follow Jesus in the flesh... How amazing!

How amazing to sit at the feet of Jesus and see His warm smile that I only feel now, but someday shall see! How incredible to have perfect communion with the Holy Spirit and to experience the glory and perfect Love of the Father!

On Thursday, as I discussed what heaven would be like with a friend, another family was finding out that their son, brother, and friend was killed in an accident.

He is sitting at the feet of Jesus. He is experiencing that love.

He is in perfect Unity with God. He knows the glory now that we can only guess at.

And someday, we will join him. In Perfection.

Desiring God.

When I'm hungry - really hungry - I head to the fridge. I don't easily get distracted by people, pets, to do lists, thoughts...

What about when I'm headed to God for nourishment?

Do I get distracted? By life?

How silly, when God is my life...

I think this, desiring God - needing Him with single-minded focus - is the connecting thread between everything floating around in my head the last few weeks. 

I've been reading John - the gospel that is devoted to God's love to us. I've been reading and listening to Francis Chan and Ann Voskamp, who are both devoted to working out God's love and grace in the everyday moments of life.
I've had the following things on a sticky note, things that I've been thinking about, things like pursuing the path of peace, healing the hurting, the 'least of these,' "God working with them."
I've heard two sermons, completely independent, on marriage, and how focusing on God together is the way to grow together - not by focusing more on each other, but more on God.

And I think the common thread in all of this is the need to have a complete, overwhelming, and all-consuming desire for God.

A desire to live each day, each moment, in light of His grace.

How does this work itself out?

Mark 16:20 says "And they went out and preached every where, the Lord working with them and confirming the word through the accompanying signs. Amen." 

Amen. So be it. 

The Lord working with them.

I think that is so very powerful. They went praising God and preaching, not in their own power, but in the power of God... Father, Son, and Holy Spirit giving them what they needed to spread Truth and share God's love. 

Are we called to any less? Although not necessarily in the same way, we too are called to share God's love, the Lord working with us. Us working with the Lord. 

Pursue the path of peace. That's something my dad used to always say. You see, when I was in high school, I would get so frustrated, because I wanted to get it right, to please God, but I felt that He just didn't give me enough ground rules. I wanted writing up in the sky saying, "Sarah - do A, B, and C." Dad said that God's peace is a form of His voice. 

God promises peace; therefore, when He grants that, I can take that as affirmation that I am following His will. But I must be desiring God to have that peace. It won't come any other way. 

The path of peace is the path that follows God and walks with Him. That takes who He has made me and the hurts of this world and speaks to my heart saying, "Sarah, love them as I love you. In my love. In my peace."

I'll give you my own example - what is on my heart. 

Healing the hurting... the least of these. 

This one lies so heavy in me. It is a refrain that has played through my life, a thread that is woven in my being. My heart yearns to see brokenness redeemed. Katie, author Kisses from Katie, moved to Uganda and adopted fourteen orphan girls as her own. She says that caring for the broken is not a request - it is a requirement! It is sobering, but true. Jesus says this so many times! The Bible talks a lot about 'the least of these.' Jesus, specifically, uses the term. He talks about not making them stumble. About not forbidding them to come to Him. About how loving them is like loving Him ("For whatever you have done for the least of these, you have done for me.") What you have done for these, you have done for me. Wow. Big responsibility. Big opportunity. God takes this seriously. 

In my heart, I know this is true. I pursue the path of peace in seeing brokenness restored. 

But this healing of brokenness has to come from God. The inner yearning to see redemption comes from desiring God. 

I won't have a desire for others, a love for others, a connection with others, if I don't have a desire, a love, a connection with God. 

He has to be the starting point. Only then will I know how to work out my calling in bringing God's kingdom in the world. 

Only by desiring Him in my every day life, will I know how to work out His Truth in my every day life.

I want to know Him. His will in everything. His heart. For me. For others. To show and love and share. To take that desire, and to follow Him, for I know that while it takes sacrifice and surrender, only then do I find true joy and love and life. In Him.

Doubts.

What is this blog about? Good question.

I don't know.

I'm defying one of the first rules of writing, by starting my draft before I plan and outline it. I promise I'll teach my students better.

So many thoughts swirling around... different things that have come up in the past month for me to think about and ponder... Somehow, they are all connected I think. But I'm not sure yet how, so, out of the list of five or six things that are listed on a sticky-note (which, if it had a title, would be called "Sarah, think about the following..."), I think tonight I'll think about doubt. Because honestly, this is the one that is affecting my heart the most, not just my brain.

Last week in particular, I was struggling, but in that teensy-eensy annoying, unsettled way. There wasn't anything definite that I felt was wrong, it was just that I didn't feel right. Aggravating. And I didn't really acknowledge it until my sister asked me intentionally how I was doing, for real (Folks, ask people this. Especially if their love language is heart-focused. Huge way to love on someone. I'll post on that, too, at some point. Add it to the list.) My reply? "I'm good. I think I'm good. Yeah.... I'm good."

Sounds like I'm trying to convince myself a little bit, right?

She stayed silent. Waited.

And I amended my answer.

For me, if I don't really know how I'm doing, something is probably keeping me from 'good.' I tend to be a fairly mindful person. Let me halt for a moment and define mindfulness - Mindfulness is simply being aware of yourself, including body, spirit, and soul (mind, will, and emotions). It's a practice I have intentionally cultivated, to further my growth with God - to know how He is working in me, or how my flesh is distracting me. So, if I'm not aware, it's probably because something that is not God is distracting me, stealing my peace, my joy...

I told her, "I think something is a bit off, because I don't know how I am. But I don't know what the 'off' thing is either."

A few days later, I was walking from the store where I work to the staff parking lot, which is on the opposite side of the vineyard. It was evening. The sun was setting, birds were chirping, the grape vines were growing and beautiful. But I was reviewing one of the interactions I had had, wondering if I came off wrong, if I said the wrong thing.

I doubted. And it stole the beauty of that moment. It stole the joy that I would have, should have, found in that beauty.

I've mentioned before that I have struggled with self-esteem. Physical, Emotional, Personality-wise, Situation-wise. All of it. And by God's grace, in that moment in the vineyard, I was able to identify what was making me not 'good.'

Doubts.

Tiny doubts that come into your thoughts in such a sly way so as to avoid your realizing that they are arrived.

Powerful, quiet doubts.

Doubts that hide in thoughts and circumstances and comparison and pride.

Doubts that say you should have, ought to, why didn't you.

Doubts that whisper in your ear that you are not as pretty, as funny, as competent. Not pretty enough, not funny enough, not competent enough.

Doubts that say you are not enough.

These were a different sort of spiritual attack for me. In the past, my self-esteem/comparison/mask-wearing issues have hit me head-on. No beating around the bush. They screamed at me - "You are not enough!" Commanding. Accusing.

This time, demons whispered. So seemingly innocuous. So horribly infiltrating. "You are not enough?" Quiet. Suggesting. Manipulating.

It's funny, the power that naming the battle has. The power of knowing your opponent. But way more than that, knowing your ally.

You see, my ally is Christ. Yup, that's right. My ally is the Creator of the Universe, Saviour of all, the Way, the Truth, and the Life. The Truth! I wish I could emphasize that more...

"And the Truth shall set you free."

The truth will set me free. The truth is setting me free. The truth has set me free.

That's not to say that I don't still battle with doubts. Little things everyday this week have threatened to shift my gaze from Truth to Doubt. From Christ to myself. From His power to my failures.

So still, I battle. "But not I, but Christ who lives in me."

So even if everything is not perfect and I am not perfect and I don't do things perfectly, I can, with that knowledge of my ally, Truth, truly say, "How am I doing? ...I'm good. By God's grace, I'm good."

Reflections of Truth.

Walk with me on a little journey, would you? A figurative one, one of thoughts rather than movement, but a journey none the less.

A journey that begins with Truth. With Creation. With a Creator.

First, Truth. This word, spelled with a capital 'T,' is becoming my favorite word for representing the spiritual, God, heaven, righteousness, et cetera. Truth is all that is perfectly good and right. Perfect. Not improve-able.

As an artist starting a design on a project, what is your first step? A sketch? Not quite. First, you need to know the purpose of your project. Therefore, as a Creator designing a universe, don't you think God did the same thing?

And if His purpose was to glorify Himself, the Ultimate Truth, would modeling earth after heaven not be a wonderful way to start, a brilliant design concept?

At the next step on this journey, having started with the idea that Truth is the Ultimate right-ness, and that it cannot be improved upon and therefore is the model for all things that are to reflect that Truth, we come to the realization that Earth, therefore, must reflect heaven. So often, we look at societal constructs, at tradition, at humanities structures, and say, Well, that is just the way it has been for all time." Question for you, though: do you think these structures, like marriage, and family, and the church, and even the human body, just occurred at random? Or because God thought that they would work well?

Or did they occur because when God put those structures into place, He was modeling Truth?

Perhaps, just perhaps, all of these things in this 'natural' life we life, have something greater than their function... perhaps, just like us, these forms were created by the Creator, to glorify Him, to reflect His Truth.

Let's examine this a bit further. I believe that on earth, we can see glimpses of this Truth. That when you have  had a time of true worship, or an encouraging and uplifting conversation with a friend, or have seen the church pull together to support someone in need, that those are glimpses of God's kingdom in its perfection. "For now we see as through a glass, darkly." Until just recently, I didn't really think of the natural order of things as reflecting the spiritual order of God's kingdom.

Marriage reflects the relationship between Christ and His church. Family reflects the church which reflects the spiritual truths of unity and relationship and diverse functions that we see in God's relationship with the church, the angels, and us. Even the human body reflects these same truths. Kingdoms on earth, such as David's rule in the Old Testament, reflect Truth as well. We can see the concept of one being having authority, by right, to rule - those kingdoms in which the king reflected God were ones in which the rule carried both judgement and mercy, authority and love. Just like God's kingdom.

Truth - the way God meant things to be, in all of its perfection.

Does this not give us a greater responsibility then, to take these models of perfection in which we were placed, and in Christ's strength, to carry out His mandate, His purpose, in every aspect? To work out His Truth in our marriages, our family, and our churches?

1 Peter 5:10 
And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. 

To be, or not to be.

That is the question.

I've had several discussions recently with some wonderful friends regarding the importance of just being.

Finances. Service. Ministry. Outreach. Witnessing. I believe that Christ's presence in your life should be manifested in all of these areas, in a way that is not forced but that is who to you are inside. So often, the world of Christianity talks about "works," "acts of service," "giving," and "helping." These are all great words, but I think sometimes we forget about what has to be behind all of them. We must simply be.

Finances: What am I? I am a child of God, provided for by Him. Blessed by Him because He loves me and because He wants me to bless others. But first of all, I am His child. When I give financially, I ought to give, not because that is the rule (ten percent or may hell-fire rain down on you!), and not because I feel either guilty because I have more or prideful because I give more, but because I am. I am His child, and out of that identity, I ask my Father to whom and how much I should give as His child, a steward of His resources. It might be more than ten percent; it might be less. It might be outside of what I think I can spare (How silly, to think that when God the Creator of the Universe loves you!), but as His child, do I trust Him enough to actually be His child and trust His provision?

Service/Ministry/Outreach: I don't work in Sunday School because I'm obligated or because I want to impress people. I do it because I am God's child... I do it because of who I am. I am God's child and He has given me a special love for children.

Witnessing: I was thinking of this in context of every day stuff like being a witness for Christ at school or at work. I work in a sales position... not at a church, or a shelter, or at an outreach mission, or at a school (yet! See http://skuipersclassroom.blogspot.ca/ :) ). I struggled with that when I was gearing up for the summer. Should I have a more noble, a more 'Christian' summer job? Where it felt like I could actually do some good? This is where the concept of being became so important to me. Rather than the witnessing coming for the 'doing' at work, it would come from the 'being,' allowing Christ's light to shine through me.

Sometimes, this is harder. You can't rely on your works, then, to validate you, to let you know you are being a 'good Christian.' Rather, you make small decisions that are true to who you are that let people see Christ in you. This requires a lot of waiting and remaining and not knowing if you are doing any good at all. But some "are called to plant and some to water, but God gives the increase." Resting in this, in that you are God's child, no matter where you are placed or how insignificant it seems, requires holding on to Him and holding on to truth - sometimes it is difficult, because we have to let go of the pride of men (oh look at how good she is, and how she serves) or our own self-worth struggles.

However, this is also a place of rest, to know that your worth comes from who you are - no matter what you are doing, that identity cannot be taken away from you. So many times we derive our value from what we can bring - in this case, the starting point, the motivation of our lives is our desire to do what seems right, what is right. However, that motivation alone cannot hold. It is law based, not truth based. That motivation comes from within us, and "even youths will faint and grow weary" when they try it on their own. On the other hand, "those who wait upon the Lord will renew their strength." When we realize the source of our power, our Heavenly Father, and we realize that He strengthens us because we are His child, then we have the staying power to carry out his purposes. When we release our grasp on living by the rules and live truth, there is freedom.

There isn't really a way to "do" this. No formula to live by being instead of doing. Rather, it is a step by step, moment-by-moment communication with your Father that will keep you and me in that place in which doing comes from being, and when there is nothing, it seems, to do, we can simply be.

In the morning.

I have a yearly tradition. Every May, I spend at least a few evenings sitting online in front of my bank accounts. I look at my OSAP estimate, what (if any) money I have left from the past year, scholarships I am guaranteed and scholarships I've applied for.

Basically, I sit and worry. I know to trust, but every time I crunch numbers, I take ownership again, my perceived "right" to control my life.

About halfway through, I commented to my family that I should just forget about figuring out the numbers and just trust God. My friend agreed - if that is where God wants me, He will provide.

He's proven that year after year, but still I struggle. He has already provided this year, in the form of guaranteed hours and a raise - a real answer to prayer. But still I worry when the numbers come up short, and I still get a sense of relief only when I see that logically I should be able to come up with the money. Because, yes, I still finished figuring it out...

Something that keeps popping up lately is the importance of having God as the focus, as having your faith pre-eminent in every aspect of your life. My school holds a worship service every month, and one of the last ones was on the helmet of salvation. I was thinking afterwards that a helmet is meant to protect your brain. Your brain is the seat of your emotions, your intelligence, and your decisions. My helmet of salvation covers my decisions. It covers my emotions. My salvation protects them from the influence that Satan wants to have.

But in order for a helmet to have its desired effect, the soldier must put it on. It doesn't help if it stays tucked away in the tent. Or to bring it closer to home during this playoff season, a helmet doesn't do a player any good if it stays in the hockey bag.

This is something that God has really been bringing to my attention since I've come home. I was doing devotions one night, asking God what He wanted to do in me over the summer (Tangent: I love the question "What is God doing in your life right now" because there is always an answer. If you don't have an answer, it is because you are not paying attention or are not open to it, not because God is not working. God is always working. Tangent over.). Anyways, I asked Him, and a song from my childhood came into my head - "Oh God, you are my God; and I will every praise you. I will seek you in the morning, and I will learn to walk in your ways; And step-by-step You'll lead me, and I will follow you all of my days."

I will seek you in the morning. This really struck me. I've started setting my alarm earlier, and I start the day with this song in my head and a prayer to above all else, bring God glory in everything I do and say. To show His love and grace in my life by the way I treat people and my attitude at work.

I visited my friend's church this morning and the pastor reminded us of the verse "His Divine Power has given to us all things that are needed for life and godliness" and another that says "Blessed are those that hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled." Christ's grace and God's love must be my staying power. It must be the source of my joy when things are sunny and my source of peace and hope and comfort in the moments and seasons of brokenness. Every single day, I need to be reminding myself of where my help comes from and thanking God that He gives me what I need to live abundantly that day. I must hunger for righteousness and realize that God is the one who fills.

I must seek His face one day at a time, starting every morning with a prayer to glorify Him so that my helmet of salvation, God's grace and love, guides what I do and say to bring the glory to Him, the one who is worthy.

Did they know?

I'm writing this because I, like so many others tonight, am shaken and sad. I shed tears tonight for a man I've never met. Although I didn't know Tim Bosma, I know people that did. It seems so innocent, the selling of a truck. One doesn't have to know a man to grieve his wrongful death and the impact that it will have on his friends and family.

Did they know?
Did those men who responded to that advertisement and took that truck with Tim for a drive know that because of their actions, a little girl would never be tucked into bed by her daddy again?
Did they know that every time she had a dance recital or birthday party or graduation, the celebration would be marred by the fact that someone so important was missing? All for what? A truck?
When they carried out their plan, did they know that in twenty years when his little girl walks down the aisle - on the day that should not contain an iota of sadness - a tear will be shed because her father isn't there to walk that aisle with her?
Did they think of that?
Did they know that every night, a woman will go to bed, not with the arms of her husband around her, but the aching pains of loneliness instead?
Did they know that every time she needs to make a parenting decision, attend an event, celebrate a birth, or mourn a death, she will grieve the loss of her husband all over again?
Were they aware that Tim's presence will be missed by a wife and a daughter every day for the rest of their lives?
Did they know?

Did they know that an entire country would rally around Tim's wife and daughter?
Did they know that relatives, friends, and strangers alike would volunteer their time and their love to help this hurting family?
Did they know that for all the tears shed - by family, by friends, and by complete strangers - God kept count?
Did they know that those tears would be matched by immeasurable amounts of prayer, of people coming before the Father of All to ask Him to hold and heal and comfort?
Did they know that no matter how evil their motives and how black their minds, the loving grace of God shines through, even in this?
Did they know that the wife and daughter have a God who promises to comfort the widow and to be a Father to the Fatherless?
Did these men know that this family's broken hearts are held by a God whose heart is breaking too?

Tonight, I am sad; in my sadness, I am thankful that "we do not mourn as those who do not have hope."

So, How are you?

If you were to ask my right now how I am, and I were to be completely honest, it would be a long and complicated answer. You see, I don't really know... There are a lot of possible answers to that. So do I answer "Good, how are you?" or do I say "I'm doing all right" or maybe I should say "Not so great."

Why so many possible answers? 

Just because. Because there are a lot of emotions in my heart and a lot of thoughts in my head, and I'm not quite sure how they all come together.

You see, I'm happy. I'm happy because I handed in my Honours thesis and a curriculum unit, both of which were massive school projects. I'm proud to be done them. I'm also happy because I have God and great friends and a great dorm and a great family.

But, I'm also stressed. I have three exams in the next six days, plus packing up, getting my girls moved out, and working almost everyday. And an event that I'm organizing. So it's a bit stressful - trying to put enough studying time in is difficult.

I'm also a weird mix of motivated and not. I want to do well on my exams, to finish strong, and get scholarships. It's both a pride and a financial thing. But I'm so tired... I'm tired of school, and I'm tired of trying so hard and running to get so many things done. I just want it to be over.

I'm also in this weird state of reminiscing over time at Redeemer, being ready for the end of the year, but being sad that my BA and my time in dorm is over. It feels like I'm losing something.

I'm also very sad. This I think is the one that is messing me up the most. A close family friend committed suicide last week. My heart breaks for his wife and kids. My parents are close to his wife, and I babysat the four children for years, and I can't quite reconcile that this has happened. The questions are there, and I won't get answers, because there are no answers. I can be okay with that, but I have a much harder time being okay with that for his family. I struggle with the thought that they struggle with questions, and probably will for a while. I hated being at school instead of at home.

So all of these emotions and all of these thoughts swirl around in my head and my heart... What do I do with them? How do I know how I am or what I need?

I don't really have a good answer for those questions, just like I don't have a good answer for the question "Hey, how are you?" (which, by the way, do most people even mean? Food for thought.)

A thought came to me though when I was struggling through this. "All things cohere in Christ," or "All things hold together in Christ." If I trust Him, and put my heart in His hands, and submit my thoughts to Him, He promises to pull it all together. In Him, I have someone who understands that I am happy and sad, excited and confused, and confused about the paradox. So maybe it's okay that I don't know how all of these emotions and thoughts come together to make up my current state. 

Maybe it's okay that I don't know how it all works together because I know who works it all together.