a beautiful death

winter.
spring.
summer.
fall.
4 words that describe the way the earth dresses herself in a year. I've been thinking about seasons a lot recently and all the parallels that exist within this idea of what these 4 chunks of the year represent. Fall is my favorite season and time of year. It's the time of year my senses are heightened and the intensity of my [smell, taste, feel, look, and hear] almost overwhelm me.
I love the colors, the amber and honey and fire engine red and peanut butter brown leaves holding on for as long as they can to trees falling fast asleep as the ground gets cooler with each day.
I love the smells, how I can drink in deep the cinnamon sticks boiling on my gram's stove and the spicy chili that stings my nose just a little and the air so crisp, not the suffocating summer oxygen, or the bitter winter pant.
I love the noises, the crinkle of leaves and the smack of football pads and the way wagon wheels on hay can almost sound like a symphony.
I love the savory fall meals, crisp apples, Yia-Yia's homemade spaghetti sauce and Kelley's cheesy potatoes and Aunt Karen's goulash and Uncle Don's chili and Aunt Becky's homemade salsa on cornbread.
I love the way life speeds up and slows down at the same time. We resemble ants, scrambling to get in the last of life before the ground takes a sabbatical, but spending more time at home, with the family on Saturday's to watch college football and Friday nights to get to the high school boys game, more movie nights and order-in-pizza nights, lounging around the tv earlier and earlier each night. I like fall- fall is the last chance to do everything "one more time".

Then comes winter, a beautiful death. It's magical, almost, the way soil and roots and animals handle their livelihood being dormant. The bareness of the sky, how every house and street look the same under a cloak of white. All the unique things that make the outside of your house- your house, are concealed in the hypnosis of winter's song. This is the time where everything appears frozen in time, but underneath all the covering... life is slowly rebuilding, refreshing. Winter is the time earth takes to get her stuff together, to heal from the beating of spring, summer, and fall. Winter is the time earth takes to readjust and reflect on what the previous seasons brought her. Winter is the time where the hardest change is done. This season is about reshaping, getting "all the ducks lined up" that got out of order with the hectic array of spring, summer, and fall. Winter is long, it takes quite a bit of time for the roots to fight the grip of freeze and strain for the surface and the renewal that the coming spring will bring. Winter is when you hold your breath for as long as you can, because you want your next breath to not hurt your lungs. Winter is slow and there is ample time to gather thoughts, push them around, shake them free and start again enough times that you end up feeling like your thoughts resemble scrambled eggs. Winter is when you really learn how deep your faith goes; because each time you look out your window and all you see is a coffin of frost... you either let the frost invade your heart or you notice that-instead of a coffin of frost, you see a verglas shielding your heart from the biting cold. This is my winter and it's been a long one. Coming to grips with loss and disappointments and disillusionments. Realizing that God is answering my prayer of changing my heart and being terrified about what that means. Praising Him that He's WAY to smart to answer my prayers all at once and finally being grateful for that. Giving Jesus the right-away in my life. Asking with boldness and confidence for the longings and awakened desires in my heart. Learning that He is good, really, in all things. This winter for me has brought sorrow, deep, to the bone and soul. This winter has ripped me open in places I had taped, superglued, stapled, cross-stitched, and welded shut. I've shed more tears in this season than in the entirety of my life. Winter is about rebirth, but everything has to die first. That's the beautiful part, and the part you can reach for. At the end of the season, the blanket covering everything up will wash away and take all the dead and old with it; leaving pliant ground and rich, soft soil for the new and beautiful to rise up. The bible uses similar comparisons; like the harvest and beauty from ashes and the old will wash away and the 40 years wandering. We all have winters. That's kinda God's m.o. - it's His job to take us from who and where we were, to where He is and who we are in Him.
Winter is rough, but necessary, imperative even.
I'm so thankful for this season and I'm embracing it with all I've got because I know that God's work is being done and I want to feel every second of this molding process. I am anticipating and eager for the next season, but only when God has washed away all the dead and old.

1 inch

What does one inch mean to you? 

Does it mean the difference between being able to ride the Raptor at Cedar Point or not?

Does it mean the imbalance between that pair of pants and you fitting in them comfortably?

Does it mean the amount of dust on your bookshelf?

What about the variance of space that is NOT between you and those oh-so-friendly neighbors you have sitting to your left and right on a cramped airplane?

Whatever one inch means to you, my hope is that after I share this nugget of genius, you will have one more inch of freedom in your life.

I have the privilege of babysit--wait--they like to call it "hanging" with some of the best and coolest kids in the entire world. If you challenge me on this, you will surely lose. :) And as I was receiving a nail treatment from the world's most tomboy manicurist (she's actually really fantastic...) I happened to glance across a book with an odd title, "The 2-degree Difference"(http://www.amazon.com/2-degree-Difference-Little-Things-Everything/dp/0805430644) by John Trent. As I was waiting for my little artist to finish her masterpiece, I picked it up and perused the pages. 

Did you know that why (most of us) stay between the mustard and mayonnaise (the lines on the road) when we drive is because we are constantly making 2-degrees of change to the left and right? If we made, oh, say 15-degrees of change, we'd end up in the ditch. 

So why do I (I am going to assume this applies to many-but I will own this because I have a propensity to apply this to my life daily) attempt to make 15-degrees of change in my life when 2-degrees is safer?

15-degrees of change is dangerous, reckless, impetuous, possibly lethal. 15 degrees of change looks at the big picture--and gets overwhelmed. We all see ourselves as being "better" - one day I'll be the better employee, friend, daughter, dog-owner (throw in your own "roles"). I look at future Carissa and see a greattttt person; Godly, happy, inviting, entertaining, peaceful, loving, wise... I look at now Carissa and think... "Oh boy", there's more than one inch of difference from now to there. All the striving and perfecting and stress is getting me nowhere but one inch deeper in my own pickle. Now Carissa has really made a botch job out of getting to there Carissa. But there is more than 2-degrees of change away from now, there is more than one inch away from now. 

So I'm throwing it out... not that there isn't a there Carissa I don't want to get to, but now Carissa is what I've got and who I am in this moment, for today. 

I firmly believe in John 10:10 when Jesus tells us, and may I add that in the reading up to verse 10, Jesus has had to repeat Himself to the thickheaded Pharisees and Jews already once and they just are not getting it. I imagine Jesus not getting impatient, but just anxious for them to understand--like He's trying to say..."how can you really not SEE this?!" So Jesus says, 

"... I have come that they might have LIFE and have it to the FULL." (emphasis mine)

I'm not sure about you, but I don't want to wait until there Carissa to have full life. Jesus came so I can have my full life now. I mean, duh. 

So what am I going to do now? And what does one inch mean? 

Well, I'm going to do the one inch I can do to better my life now. I'm going to make a 2-degree change in certain areas of my life where I feel God asking me to improve. 

Attempting to go more than one inch in life is like my tomboy manicurist attempting to replicate Van Gogh's, "The Starry Night" in one day. 

Really?

So stop looking at the future--sure have a heading--but relax and enjoy the full life Jesus came for you to have. It's Jesus' line of work to be there right now--not ours. 'Cos trust me, one inch is a big deal. Look back to the top of this blog and then look at what one inch means to you. 

Go for it-

one inch.

Jesus died?

When people say that Jesus was killed, slaughtered, finished, did in, snuffed out, assassinated, slayed, or any variation of “murdered”; and that we, humans, did it- I cringe. Jesus was the one who said, “It is finished” (John 19:30). We didn’t finish Him off--it was in HIS timing and HIS control. It wasn’t an execution as when Herod had John the Baptist beheaded; John had no say when he would breath his last… that, unfortunately, was decided for him. But the Son of God has a different ending. Look at what the gospels record…

Then Jesus shouted out again, and he released his spirit. (Matthew 27:50)

Then Jesus uttered another loud cry and breathed his last. (Mark 15:37)

Then Jesus shouted, “Father, I entrust my spirit into your hands!” And with those words he breathed his last (Luke 23:46)

 “…he said, “It is finished!” Then he bowed his head and released his spirit. (John 19:30)

Yes--we beat Him, we mocked Him, we clubbed Him, we ridiculed Him, we assaulted Him, we shamed Him, we bashed Him, we degraded Him, we whipped Him, we cheapened Him, we stabbed Him, we dishonored Him, we brutalized Him. But we did NOT take away His last breath.

How stupid, and yes I mean stupid, are we to think that we could murder the Son of God? And for those that believe it really went down that way, hard lesson coming. We, in animalistic manner, rioted to see Jesus flogged and torn apart--as our human flesh deceived us, as it always does deceive us…  But even at the end of Jesus’ earthly life, the flesh lost, and the flesh will lose again once and for all when Jesus returns for those whom have trusted and lived in His saving grace.

“…you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive…” (Gen 50:20)

Bottom line: no matter what I decide to do, Jesus has got the final say. Period.

look again

A good book always needs a second read. A good “anything” always deserves to be recognized again. That’s why they call it a “double take” when you see a good-looking fella walking down the road. That’s why little kids can watch UP & Toy Story 3 eight times in a row. When I come across a good book or movie, I tend to read and watch them over and over again, even though I know the ending and the characters and can recite almost half the scenes verbatim; I still go back for more.  I realized why when I was asking myself why I did this… It’s because they don’t get boring… I pick up SOMETHING new in the story each time. I realized something else too; that’s why we can read and hear the same stories in the bible over and over again. IT NEVER GETS BORING. The bible is the single most exciting slice of life that God has ever given us. If you think reading the bible is boring, you’re reading it wrong. Sure Leviticus and the multitudes of genealogies get redundant, tedious even; but they are not boring. Those names were HAND-PICKED by God to be in this work of art that’s survived hundreds and hundreds of years… I don’t know about you, but I’d sure like to see my name printed on those pages.  (What’s almost too good to be true is that there is a book that my name and if you call on Jesus as your Savior, your name will be, too! And I am beyond excited to hear God call my name.)  When I first tackled Leviticus, I skipped pretty much all of it, but then someone told me in layman’s terms what some of the specific offerings and sacrifices the Israelites had to undergo and I started reading again. This time I imagined myself (as best a 21^st century American-born-kid could) having to participate in those same acts of worship. Not only would I have had to work during the “day” (which back then there were only 12 hour shifts) but perform burnt offerings, grain offerings, wave offerings, peace offerings (see: Leviticus 1:everywhere)… Leviticus turned into a real nail-biter when I pictured myself having to: first raise herds, examine EVERY SINGLE one from head to tail, then karate chop a bull with a machete and throw some of it here, a little bit there, outside the camp, in front of the alter, let the blood and guts gush all over. Nice. But my point is this--the bible is intoxicating! (If you don’t have a bible, get one, and don’t stop reading it, ever.)

Beyond that point, even though that’s pretty succinct, I’ll head back to the first sentence. (My writing reflects my thought processes that always head down side-roads, I even run in zig-zag’s.) I’ve started reading the book, “Captivating” by John & Stasi Eldredge for the second time and got stuck on page 29 in the middle of an except from ANOTHER book that John wrote, “Wild at Heart” –(by the way, get ‘em, read ‘em, then read ‘em again) He put a verse from Jeremiah 29 in this passage and the Holy Spirit asphyxiated me.

“You will find me,” says the Lord, “when you seek me with all your heart.” vs. 13, underline mine.

You see, we all know to “seek God”. Matthew 6:33 and Luke 12:31 tell us to, “seek first His kingdom…” Psalms 105:4 says to, “seek the Lord, and His strength…” The bible contains TONS of verses about seeking God, but only 4 mention GOD BEING FOUND as the result of our seeking.  We are to always look for God, yes… but when He tells us in Jeremiah 29:13, Deuteronomy 4:29, and Proverbs 8:17 to seek (to hunt for, to pursue, an attempt/desire to find/obtain/achieve) with our hearts, and we will find Him. I think we’ll find that when we seek the Creator from our hearts, our relationship with Him and our perception of who He is will dramatically change. When we look for God; not as the judge of our court case or ruler of a kingdom or tour guide of life, but when we look for Him -- as a wife does for her soldier husband in an airport where he’s arriving from being gone for 2 years, as childhood best friends look for each other in a crowded Starbucks after spending 4 years of college on different sides of the country -- something significant happens. No longer are we just sitting on the bleachers, we’re in the game catching the winning pass from quarterback Jesus, jersey #1. Seeking God as we would a partner, a companion (and these words are such an understatement) opens our hearts – to (see Him as) a Father who wants nothing more than to put you on His shoulders and carry you around the ball-park; to a Friend who wakes up at 3 in the morning to drive across 3 states when all you say is, “I need you”; to the One who’s trying to win your heart so He misses the game that all the scouts are at-waiting for him to pitch the perfect game-because you just had your appendix taken out and don’t want to be left alone; to a Savior who, with anticipation, travels to be die on a cross because He wants you to have a chance to be with Him for eternity; because His heart is set on you. How silly of me to think that God should just pursue me, that I should try to love and win Him over as much as He loves me and tries to win my heart. I mean, He sent His Son to die a sinner’s death, how much more of a love pursuit do you need?! And as I long to be pursued and sought after, so does HE! And what’s so spectacular is that He guarantees us we’ll find Him. So scan the crowds: He’s given us an “X marks the spot!” There’s a big target right on God, complete with flashing lights, noisemakers and Liam Neeson’s (or Sean Connery, your preference) voice booming, “WARM… WARMER… HOT!”

With our hearts, we seek Him, we find Him. 

Dichotomy

I've always been a journal(er). Writing down my thoughts has been something I've done since before I was aware that what I was doing was, in fact, journaling. The switch from my penned journals to this keyboard could very well result in disaster. Also, I rather enjoy the act of "journaling" vs "blogging" and will continue to claim what I'm doing here is scribing journals rather than blogs. And the fact that I've now run out of things to even type is the beginning of the cataclysm of this experience.

Speaking of experience... the word "dichotomy" is the essence of my soul recently. Even the previous sentence has a polarity to it. I am in a season where, I am split in two, I can literally hear the songbirds outside my window and be thankful and awed by the beauty and serenity of nature and at the exact same time sense the dark cloud of despair surrounding the facets of my life. I am fighting myself against myself. Each moment that passes, it's as if the bell in the boxing ring goes off and I have sixty seconds to beat myself, to hear the official beat his hand on the floor claiming victory for one side. I pray that at the end of however many rounds I have to battle, I lose. You see, I don't want to win... not this battle, not this round... because if I win, then I still lose. So, maybe it's even more than just me vs. me. It is imperative that I lose, quite honestly. Me losing is the sine qua non of me winning. Let me explain: God's Word in Luke says, 

"Then he said to them all: 'If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.' " (9:23-24)

I've spent some time studying this passage, and there is enough meat here for a handful of comprehensive journals. First, Jesus is the one quoting this passage and Luke has lovingly taken the task of penning down the accounts of Jesus' life, ministry, death, resurrection, ascension, disciples, etc... You should really read Luke for the whole gist--it is truly a heroic tale of grand, the grandest even, measure. Back to this passage, He is non-discriminatory when He says, "If anyone would come after me" He's speaking not only to who could physically hear Him say this, but to you and me and our great-great-great grandparents and our great-great-great grandchildren and so on, ANYONE that would be a follower of Him. "He must deny himself..." Literally, separate yourself from yourself, (hence my dichotomy). Disown yourself, Christianity is not merely an "add-on" to my life, it IS my life. It is laying down my life and following His Way of life. As He moves onto, "...and take up his cross daily..." this passage is so much more than what our culture has made it into. The severity of this command is daunting. We associate "cross" with burdens, pain, worry, stress, etc... and that is a part of it yes... but if we look at the word "cross" and the meaning it has when used at the time in the year Jesus used it, it is a little more horrifying. The cross in Jesus' day meant what Jesus' experienced on His last day on earth. He isn't talking about a mere burden or trial or difficulty. He is talking about death. As a condemned person is to carry the crossbeam to his own cross, we are to carry our own "cross" and DAILY lay it down. 

The good news... we get to lay it down at His feet. He gets---no He LONGS to carry our cross for us. I believe I've spent too much time carrying my own cross each day, I want to give it to the One who has the experience of carrying a cross, the One who has successfully won ALL the rounds, battles, and wars already. It is essential, vital, pivotal, whatever other adjective you want to throw in there for intensity purposes, that I lose---for when I lose, He wins-in me, and the next time the battle starts and the despair starts to suffocate me, I can remember the songbirds outside my window, think of this passage, take a deep breath and say, "Thank You, Abba."