"...would you do for yourself what you have just done for your brother? Would you so eagerly and enthusiastically forgive yourself, accept yourself, and love yourself? ... 'If the Lord Jesus Christ has washed you in his own blood and forgiven you all your sins, how dare you refuse to forgive yourself?"
-excerpt from Brennan Manning's Signature of Jesus
When I read these words awhile ago they struck me - and now, as I flip through the book again and remember the impact, I wonder how often we believe them? Just thoughts for the moment - on my way to a busy and fun weekend, just wanted to share with you words that cleared my vision.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Saturday Morning
I woke up this morning at 9:58 to my phone buzzing with a number I didn't recognize. I pressed ignore and tried to keep sleeping, but I had reached the point where sleeping was no longer an option. I listened to my voicemail and discovered a job offer from Bank of America as a teller - they read my resume on monster. It was nice to know that if I was ever desperate for a job, monster was a good resource. I had already received two calls regarding my resume.
The sky looked overcast when I looked out my window and I decided reading outside would have to wait until later in the day. The next best alternative was to head down to a coffee shop in Westwood with my Brennan Manning book, journal, and Bob Dylan's autobiography. I called JD to see if he wanted to join. He sleepily agreed and we walked beneath a cloudy sky to one of our favorite spots in Westwood. Novel Cafe was busy this morning. We claimed the only two comfy seats that were open and ordered extra foamy coffee drinks and pastries. Double lowfat extra foamy latte with a bagel and cream cheese for me, and a double extra foamy latte with a blueberry muffin for JD. I opened my book, Signature of Jesus, and began reading - stopping only to sip my mocha and eat my bagel. JD read John Donne for our God and Intellectual Conversation in the 17th century seminar. We like to do this sort of thing. As coffee shop junkies, one of our favorite activities is to go and read in a cultured coffee shop (although we revert to Starbucks often because the 30% discount lures us in).. soaking in the atmosphere and engaging our minds with the small print sprawled out page after page.
While I was reading, I realized that I am constantly thinking. In class, while reading, while exercising, while sitting still, while driving, while talking... Sometimes I wish my mind would give itself a break. I wish I could focus on that which is before me rather than the million things that are impertinant but still entertain my mind each moment of the waking day. I'm still being told to be less busy. To rest. To be silent, still, and confident in His sovereignty. It's something that is contrary to my nature. I remember attending AIM the summer before my senior year and we had a lesson on solitude. I don't remember if it was Becky, Ryan, or Steven who gave the lesson, but I remember talking to Steven about it later during evaluations. I desperately wanted to be still and hear God's voice. I had tried a couple times before but hadn't really heard anything that resonated as the voice of the Almighty. I remember Steven told me it could take time, that the act of being still before God was a discipline, and that we couldn't choose when God would speak. He said it could take two weeks or twenty years. It only took a few weeks after that conversation to hear His voice and know it was His. I hear Him best when I am on my knees in a closed room, usually my closet or bedroom. Lately I hear this: "Trust and abide" and "I am well pleased with you daughter." Sometimes it is instructional, but the past 6 months have consisted of these words. And I must rest in these words, for my Maker whispers them to me, knowing me in a way I don't even know me.
I didn't realize this is where my blog was going this morning. I was only inspired by the serene moments in the coffee shop to write, but beneath the pleasure of reading books that cause my spine to tingle and goosebumps to raise on my arms because of who God is, there are thoughts begging to be released in writing. And so I wrote them - take them for whatever they are worth to you... they are merely glimpses of my heart and mind... both of memory and of present... and in writing them on this laptop that so often bears the depths of my ever wandering mind, I am at peace once more.
Carpe Diem
The sky looked overcast when I looked out my window and I decided reading outside would have to wait until later in the day. The next best alternative was to head down to a coffee shop in Westwood with my Brennan Manning book, journal, and Bob Dylan's autobiography. I called JD to see if he wanted to join. He sleepily agreed and we walked beneath a cloudy sky to one of our favorite spots in Westwood. Novel Cafe was busy this morning. We claimed the only two comfy seats that were open and ordered extra foamy coffee drinks and pastries. Double lowfat extra foamy latte with a bagel and cream cheese for me, and a double extra foamy latte with a blueberry muffin for JD. I opened my book, Signature of Jesus, and began reading - stopping only to sip my mocha and eat my bagel. JD read John Donne for our God and Intellectual Conversation in the 17th century seminar. We like to do this sort of thing. As coffee shop junkies, one of our favorite activities is to go and read in a cultured coffee shop (although we revert to Starbucks often because the 30% discount lures us in).. soaking in the atmosphere and engaging our minds with the small print sprawled out page after page.
While I was reading, I realized that I am constantly thinking. In class, while reading, while exercising, while sitting still, while driving, while talking... Sometimes I wish my mind would give itself a break. I wish I could focus on that which is before me rather than the million things that are impertinant but still entertain my mind each moment of the waking day. I'm still being told to be less busy. To rest. To be silent, still, and confident in His sovereignty. It's something that is contrary to my nature. I remember attending AIM the summer before my senior year and we had a lesson on solitude. I don't remember if it was Becky, Ryan, or Steven who gave the lesson, but I remember talking to Steven about it later during evaluations. I desperately wanted to be still and hear God's voice. I had tried a couple times before but hadn't really heard anything that resonated as the voice of the Almighty. I remember Steven told me it could take time, that the act of being still before God was a discipline, and that we couldn't choose when God would speak. He said it could take two weeks or twenty years. It only took a few weeks after that conversation to hear His voice and know it was His. I hear Him best when I am on my knees in a closed room, usually my closet or bedroom. Lately I hear this: "Trust and abide" and "I am well pleased with you daughter." Sometimes it is instructional, but the past 6 months have consisted of these words. And I must rest in these words, for my Maker whispers them to me, knowing me in a way I don't even know me.
I didn't realize this is where my blog was going this morning. I was only inspired by the serene moments in the coffee shop to write, but beneath the pleasure of reading books that cause my spine to tingle and goosebumps to raise on my arms because of who God is, there are thoughts begging to be released in writing. And so I wrote them - take them for whatever they are worth to you... they are merely glimpses of my heart and mind... both of memory and of present... and in writing them on this laptop that so often bears the depths of my ever wandering mind, I am at peace once more.
Carpe Diem
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
The Temptation of the Elite
I bought into intellectualism. The appeal of the academic, the pull to the elite, and the desire to contribute something to the world in the way of scholastic thought finally got the best of me. I will confess to you now that in my present circumstance, I am aware that many of my academic goals and career plans have been tainted with the desire for elevated superiority. Pride is an evil thing, and when allowed to live and breathe and move nearly unnoticed (I say nearly because I am often aware of its existence), it becomes an instrument of destruction - one that prevents the child's cry of "Abba..."
There is an unsettling in my soul. Marred by low self-esteem (the very worst pride) in the academic world coupled with the desire to be something of a brilliant mind, I constantly find myself facedown with each self-proclaimed failure. And when I "fail," I fear my value has been depleted. As if my academic success could charter my worth in His eyes... And I say His eyes because His are the only ones that matter. But if I were to be honest with you, I would say that my perception of my worth as an individual has come to rest in this competitive, academic, small world of which I feel I am the least of... and I'm afraid someone will find out. I need to be honest with you because if I can't face my sin and confess it to others, it will fester and boil into something even more despicable.
I dropped a class tonight. My mom said I don't have to tell anybody if I don't want to, but for some reason I have no problem telling anyone and everyone my struggles (I am a paradox)... and there was a lesson learned in dropping this class, and so I will share. Dropping this class means I will not obtain my english minor. Many of you will read this and think to yourself, "she's only one class away - why give up now?" Believe me - I've asked myself the same question over and over again... but in this quest to eliminate hurry, to irradicate busyness, to relieve myself from stress... I just can't do it. I thought I could and I wanted to prove to myself and to others that I could do it - but I can't. And that's ok. There are several reasons I suppose for which my decision is justified, but none of these matter to my readers... I did it.
At the core of this struggle is my Savior's call to rest... to trust... to abide. When I asked God about the class, He was gracious in His response: "it's ok Annie. You can drop it. Doesn't change a thing about the way I see you or the plans I have for you." So I will trust this peace. My cry daily is to Abba, for this title seems appropriate. Even now I envision myself in His arms, in His peace, in His compassionate, loving, and utterly accepting gaze. Free from the burden of myself, I am utterly His.
I will not act as if the battle is over, or that any call to academia is now null and void... rather I believe my perspective has changed. Maybe I am growing up. Maybe I am realizing there is more to life than this microcosm of intellectual intensity that surrounds me at UCLA. Maybe I need a break... time away from school so I can listen without the screaming temptation of desire to scale the wall of the intellectual elite... not that intellectualism or academia is bad - no, this is far from my belief... rather, the stigma and appeal that coincide so neatly with pride rots my perspective on scholarly achievements. If I write a book someday with a PhD next to my name, I want it to be because God, in His infinite wisdom and grace, called me to the task, not because I decided it would be a good idea to change the world in this way. And may it be so... may the grace of God precede the calling and may I be ever sensitive to discern the voice that demands humility.
There is an unsettling in my soul. Marred by low self-esteem (the very worst pride) in the academic world coupled with the desire to be something of a brilliant mind, I constantly find myself facedown with each self-proclaimed failure. And when I "fail," I fear my value has been depleted. As if my academic success could charter my worth in His eyes... And I say His eyes because His are the only ones that matter. But if I were to be honest with you, I would say that my perception of my worth as an individual has come to rest in this competitive, academic, small world of which I feel I am the least of... and I'm afraid someone will find out. I need to be honest with you because if I can't face my sin and confess it to others, it will fester and boil into something even more despicable.
I dropped a class tonight. My mom said I don't have to tell anybody if I don't want to, but for some reason I have no problem telling anyone and everyone my struggles (I am a paradox)... and there was a lesson learned in dropping this class, and so I will share. Dropping this class means I will not obtain my english minor. Many of you will read this and think to yourself, "she's only one class away - why give up now?" Believe me - I've asked myself the same question over and over again... but in this quest to eliminate hurry, to irradicate busyness, to relieve myself from stress... I just can't do it. I thought I could and I wanted to prove to myself and to others that I could do it - but I can't. And that's ok. There are several reasons I suppose for which my decision is justified, but none of these matter to my readers... I did it.
At the core of this struggle is my Savior's call to rest... to trust... to abide. When I asked God about the class, He was gracious in His response: "it's ok Annie. You can drop it. Doesn't change a thing about the way I see you or the plans I have for you." So I will trust this peace. My cry daily is to Abba, for this title seems appropriate. Even now I envision myself in His arms, in His peace, in His compassionate, loving, and utterly accepting gaze. Free from the burden of myself, I am utterly His.
I will not act as if the battle is over, or that any call to academia is now null and void... rather I believe my perspective has changed. Maybe I am growing up. Maybe I am realizing there is more to life than this microcosm of intellectual intensity that surrounds me at UCLA. Maybe I need a break... time away from school so I can listen without the screaming temptation of desire to scale the wall of the intellectual elite... not that intellectualism or academia is bad - no, this is far from my belief... rather, the stigma and appeal that coincide so neatly with pride rots my perspective on scholarly achievements. If I write a book someday with a PhD next to my name, I want it to be because God, in His infinite wisdom and grace, called me to the task, not because I decided it would be a good idea to change the world in this way. And may it be so... may the grace of God precede the calling and may I be ever sensitive to discern the voice that demands humility.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Because my dad said so
Soooo it's been ages since I've written anything. I apologize, but due to the lack of innovation, inspiration, and being without a laptop, I have left the keyboard untouched. I type this as JD is preparing country peach passion tea for our much needed studytime (which for me will consist of mapping out the quarter and getting myself thoroughly organized). We just returned from an Athletes in Action leadership meeting in which the group sat around a circle of In & Out Burgers and shared our hearts with one another. It was a good meeting - like the ones you dream about when you think 0f the body of Christ meeting together... prayer, honesty, vulnerability, encouragement, praise, the Word, and food.
Earlier today was my roommate Anna's birthday party - possibly one of my favorites yet. A huge group of college students rallied up at Sunset Recreation Area on a huge grass field for some Ultimate Frisbee and shaving cream... The goal? A tag must include a handful of shaving cream and I must say that by the end of the game, we were a bunch of white ghosts walking around. Shaving cream was in our hair, our ears, swimsuits, eyes, and anywhere else you could think of. It was great... The afternoon also included volleyball, football, and a huge barbeque! Such a great way to begin the quarter...
And while I'm at it - I might as well add that this quarter will be the hardest. I'm taking 4 classes, 3 english and 1 history in order to actually obtain my english minor and GRADUATE in June - woohoo! This means I don't have to take another quarter; I will officially be done and officially a full time barista ;)! More to come...
Earlier today was my roommate Anna's birthday party - possibly one of my favorites yet. A huge group of college students rallied up at Sunset Recreation Area on a huge grass field for some Ultimate Frisbee and shaving cream... The goal? A tag must include a handful of shaving cream and I must say that by the end of the game, we were a bunch of white ghosts walking around. Shaving cream was in our hair, our ears, swimsuits, eyes, and anywhere else you could think of. It was great... The afternoon also included volleyball, football, and a huge barbeque! Such a great way to begin the quarter...
And while I'm at it - I might as well add that this quarter will be the hardest. I'm taking 4 classes, 3 english and 1 history in order to actually obtain my english minor and GRADUATE in June - woohoo! This means I don't have to take another quarter; I will officially be done and officially a full time barista ;)! More to come...
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