Identity Crisis

I am here to stoutly inform you all that my basil has an identity crisis. Yes, an identity crisis.

You see, for a long time, it sat on my kitchen counter weakly growing and slouching miserably towards the kitchen window. It was rather pathetic and like Isabel with her dolls, I have a great affinity for those things (living or not) that are under my care. So I went to the dollar store, (yes Colleen,  Dollar Tree, have no fear) and bought a cute little pot and some potting soil. Joel, the dear, was worried it wasn't fertilized enough, but I figured my lazy sprawling basil wouldn't mind. I then replanted it and put it in the back window where I hoped there would be more sun. There, away from my snipping scissors, it has having its identity crisis. You see, it thinks its a tree. Every time I park my car and walk inside, there it is on the second floor balcony window reaching, sprouting, growing, like a regular little tree. It seems to laugh at me... and wave as it giggles, "I'm a tree! I'm a tree" while the silly little thing grows like a weed.

There you are. People don't have the corner of the market on identity crisises. (spl?)

:) cheers

How did he live?

So he died for his faith. That is fine,
More than most of us do.
But stay, can you add to that line

That he lived for it, too?
In death he bore witness at last
As a martyr to truth.
Did his life do the same in the past
From the days of his youth?

It is easy to die. Men have died
For a wish or a whim-
From bravado or passion or pride.
Was it harder for him?

But to live: every day to live out
All the truth that he dreamt,
While his friends met his conduct with doubt,
And the world with contempt.

Was it thus that he plodded ahead,
Never turning aside?
Then we’ll talk of the life that he led-
Never mind how he died.

-Ernest Crosby

Dear God

I know you promised me that You will use me. I remember You saying something about having plans for me and my hopeful future or something like that. But I just wanted to let you know, I don't think I can.

Can what?

Can do any of this. You see, I get angry at my husband and forget to pray for my friends. I don't care enough about the lost and I never have enough time to read. I just think... maybe I ruined everything. What about that time with so-and-so that I didn't tell them about Your truth -- and I could have? And how about the Christians? They take one look at me and think I'm inept! No, Lord... I think I'm pretty much hopeless.

I see. 

You do? ... Somehow that makes it worse. What do You see?

I see you thinking you know more than Me. 

No, no, Lord. You've got it all wrong. You know much more than me, but I'm just saying the I don't think I'm cut out for this. See, people who make a difference for eternity actually have time to read their Bibles.

Oh, I see. 

What?

I see you thinking you know more than Me. 

No, Lord.... listen....

No, child, you listen:

I am God.
Also henceforth I am he; there is none who can deliver from my hand; 

I work, and who can turn it back?

 I am the first and I am the last;

besides me there is no god.

Who is like me? Let him proclaim it. 

Let him declare and set it before me,

Fear not, nor be afraid;
   have I not told you from of old and declared it?

And you are my witnesses! 

Is there a God besides me?
   There is no Rock; I know not any.

...


Oh.
I see.



(reference: Isaiah 43:12-13, 44:6-8)

O Love That Will Not Let Me Go

O Love that will not let me go,

I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O light that followest all my way,

I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

I love this hymn... I'm still not sure about the music it was put to, but the poetry is beautiful. It's been running through my head all day long. There may be earthquakes, tornadoes, so called "Judgement Days", wars, rumors of wars, and all such terrible things that fill the world today; and (they could be called worse) the internal storms that rage -- my failure, faults, fears and discouragements; I know that His love will not let me go. What a wonderfully and divinely (dare I say it) cozy thought. 

We had a wonderful weekend, my hubby and I. He turned the ripe old age of 26, and we went to the park with a picnic lunch. Since the lunch was of particular interest to me, I'll explain -- I went to the market and bought fresh lemons, cherries and peaches; pecorino romano cheese; and a big bag of fresh pita bread. Then I set to work. First, I made tiny little lemon cookies and sandwiched them with tangy lemon curd filling. Then I sauteed some chicken breast with Italian seasoning, salt, garlic and rosemary. Then I shaved off big chunks of the pecorino romano. (which is a salty, briny cousin of Parmesan -- and tastes even better, if you ask me!) I then added the chicken, cheese and some crumbled bacon to two pitas with lettuce and garlic Caesar on the side. Add some kettle chips, peaches, cherries, water bottles and "sparking clementine juice"... with a homemade card and a poem I wrote tucked in the side of the cooler-bag,  and we had a picnic! 

This we took to Metro Beach Park, spread a Mexican blanket on the grass between the water and a grove of willow trees... and promptly fell asleep listening to the water and feeling the sun tingle our faces with a hint of color. :) It sounds so romantic, doesn't it? Well... it was, until 5 screaming children came to "fish" with Daddy and Uncle so-and-so right next to us. But we laughed and realized we were hungry and the picnic was calling. So we ate and thoroughly enjoyed most of it. The peaches were really hard and I have this aversion to bacon recently for some reason... but Joel loved it all and since it was his birthday, I made the best of it (while he made the best of the rest of my wrap). The cookies really were incredible though, if I do say so myself -- just enough sweet buttery crunch laced with lemon to warrant eating as much as we could of them!

We then set off into the woods on a nature trail. The ground was a bit muddy, but nothing daunted, we walked the whole thing and came out on the other side happy, tired, a little dirt streaked and slightly sampled by mosquitoes. The sun was setting then so we left the park, and on our way home found a hole in the wall ice cream shop to finish a happy birthday. 

And I must say, if you'll allow me some Louisa May Alcott description, (and at the risk of my husband reading this) At moments during the day he looked only 6 of all his 26 years-- with dirt streaks and little red bites up his legs, a bit of ice cream on his nose and his hair in a frightful disheveled state, he was the picture of the happy little boy I never met. But other times, he looked very much like the handsome (and still happy) young man I married almost a year ago this summer. 

And all this -- the fear abroad and the happiness within -- is what made me think of the love that will not let me go, thus the song stuck in my head. The love that loves me -- incredibly -- more than my husband. The Love that gave everything for my soul, and will never, ever let me go. 

  

Behold, the Lord GOD shall come with a strong hand... 

He will feed His flock like a shepherd; 

He will gather the lambs with His arm

 And carry them in His bosom,

 And gently lead those who are with young.

Isaiah 40:10-11

:) no, I won't say sorry for my sap. 

Happy Birthday, my love!

Light that is Sown

As promised, the meditation on light:

Gene Higgins mentioned this when he was visiting for ministry last week. 

Light is sown for the righteous,

And gladness for the upright in heart.

Psalm 97: 11

I love this thought... that light and guidance will be sown at the time of my prayer and spring up later just when I need it. And joy too! Imagine, the Lord sowing joy -- not to be seen or felt until further on down the path. I look back and see that  this is true -- He has sown joy and light for me and I found it later, beautiful and full grown further on down the path. 

When we pray, our prayers are like a seed planted further down the path of life, out of our sight. If He responds to my prayer today, and plants it, and I find it tomorrow, it would just be a shoot or a bud or a little flower of light (guidance) or gladness (joy). But  think-- if He sowed when I prayed today, but planted the seed far far down my path, it would grow and made roots and reached up to the sky like a huge brilliant tree. I would then find it later after a long walk in the dark sadness of my trials... the huge beautiful tree of light or joy, full grown and offering sweet peace, shelter and relief. A seed that was planted long, long ago on my knees with tears and fear amid darkness and confusion. Don't ever think He doesn't hear your prayer, my friends.

Weeping may endure for a night, 

But joy comes in the morning.

Psalm 30:5

Breaking the Silence

Hello readers,

I haven't been posting for the past month, mostly because I was busy at first, but then because I grew discouraged about my lack of readers. Why could I not just email Ashley -- because she is the only one reading? (Thank you, Ashley) But recently I've been come aware of several others who are privately reading my posts, and in that I take heart! So here I am, breaking the silence.

I don't have any cute pictures for you... and after look in wonder (because you will!) at my dear friend's blog, this is a decidedly a disappointment for me. You see, I would love to take pictures of my homemade pretzels and my experiments with growing cilantro and basil that I got at the Eastern Market I love to go to on foggy Saturday mornings to buy fresh fruit, flowers and herbs. But I can't because my camera was stolen when our apartment was broken into last fall, and of everything we lost, I lament that the most. So there you have it... my silly troubles with blogging. So you'll have to be happy just imaging my wonderful works of photographic genius :P of all my house-wifey endeavors. And I'm sure... they will be better in your minds than in reality!

Here is what I do have for you though -- a small meditation on earthen vessels and light that is sown (I'll put that in another post because it is a separate thought).

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us. We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed— 

...Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory" 

II Corinthians 4:7-9, 16,17

I know these verses by heart and have read them so many many times. But their reality never hit home with me until I was pouring my troubles and fears out to a long time friend and "kindred spirit" last night and she reminded me of these verses. I think she only meant to show me the first one... but the Spirit of God brought me to the second section as well. 

I -- my body -- is merely an earthen vessel. One full of weakening fear, heartbreaking failure and fierce pride. I don't think I ever knew this so much as I know it now after ten months of marriage and coming face to face with -- not my husband -- but with myself. Every. single. day. And now, as I wait for word from an application that could determine the next year (if not the rest of our lives), I feel the fearful selfish little girl in me rising up in defiance to what God is doing in my life. I've seen a lot of my ugly self in the past few weeks, sticking its head up to taunt me at the most inconvenient times! And... besides having a huge amount of pity and gratefulness to my patient husband, am sad to see the "old man" (Eph 4:22) rising up so often in the face of trouble in spite of trying so hard to push his ugly face down. 

But this verse has come as such a comfort to me... I am an earthen vessel, but I have a treasure inside -- the excellent power of God. And even if I am overwhelmed and afraid and failing, He is in me with all the power of an Almighty God. I do not have to be perfect in the face of trials. I do not have to bear it alone and muscle my way through life. I realized, as verse 16 says so beautifully -- my affliction is light. No matter what I face, my affliction is light compared to what He has planned for me. "looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." (Heb 12:2)