//. Thick

The funny thing about faith is that there is no such tool to measure it with. I could sit here all day and guess at how far I suppose my neighbors' journey with God is. But in the end, it is me who is the smallest in proportion; I would have had too little of faith in others, so much so that I'd even find the need to take the time and effort to judge. Mind you, it is still the body of Christ which I then insult.

But I think that is why sometimes churches are so malfunctioned. Either we find ourselves placing everyone in various steps on the spiritual ladder particularly in comparison to ourselves and our families... or we unrightfully assume that everyone is at the same page that we are, and thus leave inopportune moments of miscommunication and distrust. 

See, the problem is that we are all too often curious and critical of others that we unknowingly dismiss our loyalties of why we attend church -- of why we proclaim our faith. I think of the various times where I have snoozed off during miscellaneous sermons when I was a teenager and would make a silent note of the fact that these speakers did not have the qualities to make an enticing preacher. It would be the atmosphere's fault that they did not create a dramatic and tranquil enough of an aroma for me to feel the Holy Spirit. And overall, I was still a charitable citizen for having woken up early enough on a Sunday morning to make pleasant conversation with others whom I find to wear relatively bland clothing and even throw in a dollar for the sake of what my punk friends would think if I did not give the offering that my parents actually gave me prior to the service.

In one of Francis Chan's last messages of being the pastor at the church that he founded, he said this:

"Too many people just get 'church' all screwed up. they think church is a place where you're just supposed to come evaluate their music, evaluate their message -- you don't like it -- the childcare, and the program. Well, if not, I'll go to a another one, a different one... No. What 'church' was supposed to be, was a bunch of people that were spending their days out, making disciples. Trying to get other people to follow God and they get so beat up, that they just naturally would gather together and have this fellowship, this bond where they bandage one another up and send them back out. And sometimes, the reason why churches don't work quite right is because we're like a bunch of soldiers that never went to war and yet we all go to the war hospital and are playing with the bandages and go, 'hey haha look at this' as we play around with the bandages... you know? It's like you haven't even been beat up because you haven't been at war! So it doesn't even make sense to gather together, you know? And try to encourage each other, because we're not even after the mission anymore. (2010)"

We're not even after the mission anymore.

I wish I had somebody ask me when I was fourteen:

Do you think you're doing someone a favor?

Whose faith, whose desires, whose expectations are you really delivering?

Who are you to invite Him in?

I ask that last question... because oftentimes, I think we pray to God that He enter "this place." We ask Him to be present and that we invite Him into our lives.

This is not your party

And it's not about you, it's His.

He has invited us. Undeservingly, of course. Jesus left heaven and He didn't have to. It is that He humbled Himself enough to come down to a crummy place like earth (in comparison to heaven) so that maybe, just maybe, you and I would find it in us to come to realize God's great love.

But we are too busy complaining. We are too busy noticing the imperfections of it all. It's like adopting a dog from the pound who quickly forgets where it once came from. It is soon blinded with luxuries of a warm house, the comfort of one's own food and water, decent company, and entertainment by the plenty... so much so that it takes running away irresponsibly and getting lost to realize that all it really needed was love. All of that other stuff -- it can melt away. But its heart will all too soon feel the bitter coldness of what it was once like not having someone who cared and it's a scary thought to think that we have once been there to start with.

I think of Proverbs 30:7-9.

"Two things I ask of you, Lord;

do not refuse me before I die:

Keep falsehood and lies far from me;

give me only my daily bread.

Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you

and say, 'Who is the Lord?'

Or I may become poor and steal,

and so dishonor the name of my God."

How likely are you to actually pray, 'God, ward off lies that I might actually really like,' and 'oh, God, please don't give me abundant blessings, but just the bare minimum?' I will be the first to be truthful with you: this is not my ideal prayer. We have fallen into this materialistic, judgmental world where everything is based upon the agility, the chicness, the new and the glamour... that the lies of it all carry us far beyond our measures from what He had once in store. How grateful should we be that we are even in a country that allows us to speak His name and express our love as boldly as we desire? We are given too much -- and the devil loves it. Do you see the picture here? You think of starvation in third world countries and natural disasters in cities you don't even bother remembering the name of and think... man, Satan's out to get them and is eating this up. In the meantime, we are swimming in:

Millions of church members who give a bad name to Christianity because of what they do from Monday through Saturday,

Gift receipts due to the assumption of just how many family members do not care to actually know their loved ones,

Rehabilitation centers focusing on the excess amount of alcohol, drugs, food, video games, wild entertainment, and lust we are exposed to,

A leading percentage of obesity that we have ever known because a lack of self-control and the parents blaming society and genetics,

...I could go on.

To know God... It's not about who is the most respected at your church. It's not about regarding your parents' assumptions about where you stand in your beliefs. It's not about lying to yourself when you wake up in the morning and say that you're going to put His name on your sleeve merely because your peers might prosecute you if otherwise. It's not getting so far ahead in your confidence that you have gained the right to look down on others. It's not about just you.There is so much more to this world than that. There is so much more to this life than that. Why are we all so blind to the Truth? It's because there is so much thickness getting in the way of clarity. We don't see the urgency to this matter because we can already have it. There are so. many. nations. out there who would sacrifice anything to hear the Good News. We need to battle this corrupted media we have created, this comfortable image we've conveyed to our children... There is so much going on that our hands and feet could be used for but we neglect this notion because our personal needs of whatever are not met in this temporary home we call earth.

Selfish.

I wonder what it would take for us to realize what we have. I wonder what it would take for churches to stop arguing, to stop fidgeting and just be. Be what He intended. Be peaceful, merciful, gracious and understanding.

We forget to remember. We forget to own a thankful heart. We forget to pray. We forget the point.

We forget to let go of all the things that don't really matter.

To let go. And let God.

//. Unlimited

My mom really enjoys growing plants.

If someone were to know her well, he would get her an orchid for a gift. Not only are they plants, but they are challenging to keep. Her senses perk at the presence of challenges; orchids are a great combination of two of her favorite things.

This morning, I woke up and looked at the tree that my mother has been growing for the past few years. It sits at an unlikely corner at the back of our dining room. I noticed its peak for the first time. I couldn't have sworn it looked as puzzled as it did today, but it outgrew the heights of our ceiling and is now awkwardly growing horizontally. Reminds me of Alice in Wonderland when Alice had no room to grow inside the White Rabbit's house. It got to the point where her limbs had to bend and pop out every which way. Much like Alice, the tree looks sad -- almost pathetic, from my point of view.

When I lived in South Korea, an old man by a lake (apologies for sounding so oriental and vague all of the sudden) once told me that a goldfish has the ability to grow accordingly to its environment. If one keeps his or her little fishy in a tiny bowl with no flourishing decoration or room, it has but a tiny life ahead, both physically and metaphorically. I recalled this story a while back when I was shopping for new running shoes. I was sized to be 9.5 the year before, and 8.5 then. I thought I must have been an alien or something (naturally), but the friendly Asics man enlightened me that it is probably due to the way I wear my shoes too tightly. They had no room to grow, so much so that they actually shrunk.

Again, I recall the old man's story now... as I continue to gaze upon this wretched tree that silently panics to get out of here. My mom told me that she plans on moving it to her workplace soon, where there's much more open space. I bet that if this tree had a face, it'd light up so fast at the sound of that.

I think this old man's relatively logical phenomenon (which I am more than confident that there is an official phrasing for, but for now this will do) is applicable in many senses. I think about my faith, how I've kept God in a box. If I did not attend an institution like Hope College and spend the past three years throwing myself in places where I knew I'd be vulnerable and completely dependent upon my faith, my relationship with Christ would not be the same. Not to say that I never would have discovered the Truth on my own, but the journey definitely would have looked different. Without my desire to expand horizons or test what I believe, my faith system would still be lingering between MTV and what my best girl friends had to say. Unproductive.

I also think about my future, how I've kept my potential in my own hands. I had a neatly aligned plan set for myself prior to even graduating high school. I was going to take enough AP classes to graduate at the University of Michigan in three years. If U of M seemed too close to home by the end of my senior year, I was going to attend University of Pittsburgh where I would still graduate in three with a BA in Psychology, go straight into grad school across the street at Carnegie Melon University and hopefully get enough research and experience in before receiving a Ph.D back at U of M at the age of thirty. This was idyllic in my adolescent mind, for I was still young enough for kids but old enough not to mess it up. This, also, makes me laugh at who I once was.

Little did I know there is so much more to life than
jobs
money
2.5 children ratio
living in this world's standards.

I was made for bigger things, different things. Change the world kind of things -- we all are. Whether that means quite literally the world, or one person's world. I realized that this life is not meant to be lived for his or her own. I needed a realm bigger than what my own head and hands allowed me to craft. God has always had a bigger plan in store. I was meant to live for Him. This journey is unlimited.

I think of how my mother plans on taking the tree to a greater environment, more suitable for its current speed of growth, so that maybe it can grow out of its awkwardness and get back into shape again. Because right now, it's not upward bound, only sideways... lingering in things already seen and been. It's not inching closer to the Sun that provides. I then wonder what God is actively thinking of my growth and what He wants to do with my path. I realized within the past few years that you shouldn't get cozy with the idea of simply being comfortable or satisfied with where you're at. Because this leaves no room for growth. And if you are not growing, isn't everything that is being invested into you but a waste, being disrespected and dismissed? Who puts seeds into the ground simply to just keep it there with no hope for at least one to sprout?

If one is made for the city, one should not stick around in a place like my hometown. If one has a big voice, it should not be kept on mere Faeebook statuses. If one thinks he or she can make a better president than X, Y, and Z, I am very upset at them for not having the guts to do something about it.

Because to go out into the bigger pond is kind of like jumping into Lake Superior (where all my native Michiganders at? ;), everything is colder, deeper, larger... but it's also cleaner... if you do it right. It might be hard, and it's quite honestly scary. But who says when they're a little child, "mom, I want to live a long, sustained, mediocre life with very little latent value"? Maybe the coldness isn't actually the temperature, but your mindset.

I am God's orchid plant. I easily know I am not the most maintainable. But He knew what He was dealing with the moment He made me from the miry clay. And shoot, He loves me for this is who I am. For that, I am ever grateful.

//. Steadfast

It's Christmas Eve (?).

It's Christmas Eve, and I could not tell you what I was doing this exact time on this day, last year. Or the years prior. Well, I mean... for being it a ridiculous hour in the morning, I suppose I was probably and hopefully sleeping. But.

It's funny to me that certain things in life -- no matter how many times God provides you the opportunity to run by that event again -- will always remain exciting because you hope that it will meet the bar that has been set all the times before, and yet at the same time, aim that it will potentially exceed all that you know so far about it. I know that there have been and always will be only twenty-four hours within this day. I also know that Christmas, that day that lies tomorrow in my personal agenda that I have the privilege to share with the human population, is something that is promised to come again. And yet I can't believe it when it's here and during my processing throughout, I become so numb to the reality that I forget that it's the reason why I invested a whole day after Thanksgiving to string those semi-tacky lights in front of the door. I forget the reason. And before I know it, it's the day after, and soon the next year. And somewhere in between, I desire for it to come again and I forget exactly what that day looked like, but I know I want it again because I know I can be a better person for it. Maybe.

Or maybe I just truly want to spend another entirety of a day stringing (and let's be honest) completely tacky lights in front of the door that the little sister trips over anyway and no one even really glances over at, because we live in a neighborhood that apparently possesses the committee of the Undercover Professional Christmas Elves, Inc.

Yeah, no.

It's Christmas Eve and I just stayed up all night, watching every classic holiday film with the anticipation that maybe it will encourage me to keep my hype up steadily 'til 12:01AM of December 26th. This lonely movie marathon didn't really work as much as it did assist me in realizing that I am very much single, that our world is corrupted in more ways than soda, I don't know the lyrics of 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' as well as I thought, and that I am not dating the following: Jude Law, Will Ferrell, Ben Affleck, or Jude Law.

I just stayed up all night and I didn't know why. All I knew was that I want to remember better how to appreciate a time as special as this. I want to not forget.

I decided to blog again. Good friends asked why I stopped. I never knew they read to begin with (yes, I did). Flattered? Sure. But I stopped because I got lazy. I'd like to say that life got in the way. I'm a full-time student. I have too much homework. I'm an on-call photographer. I have too much editing to do. I'm a committed Christian. I have "good deeds" to accomplish. I do not have time to sign off on dedicating to reflect, consider, and chew on the events breezing by...

Well then, I thought, what kind of a 'life' do you really have anyway?

I used to blog for others. I thought it was fun to satisfy others' thirsts during the demand of temporary entertainment. I liked to think I could accomplish the miscellaneous tasks that my peers would ask for, and that I could also resolve the heaviness that people would ponder upon... because I "have a way with words." But that is untrue. I was merely talented in masquerading the moments in life --happy or sad-- with cleverly disguised diction that was generous enough to carry me as a seemingly dignified individual.

I promised myself during this past summer that I would begin to write again.

Yep, it's definitely Christmas Eve today. Not summer.

(Although the weather has been eyebrow-raisingly peculiar for the season.)

Whether that be a mere word or an overly lengthy novel, I promised myself that I would write at least half as much of the words that I find myself immersed in during my sporadic realizations throughout the day. Maybe then could I have enough of a documented train-of-thought to build something. To gain knowledge about the patterns in life. An insight about why I believe the things that I do. A reason for my next step. To reflect, as my self-esteemed, relatively poetic friends like to say. And maybe, at one point, even realize that each and everyday is loaded with blessings and if we pay attention well enough, we will be able to notice at least one.

"Now I commend you because you remember me in everything and maintain the traditions even as I delivered them to you."

- 1 Cor. 11:2 //.ESV

I want to write to remember His blessings that He has self-sarcrificingly delivered to me. I want to never forget the reasons why the tacky Christmas lights are Christmas lights and not put up during any other season. I want to give thanks and put in the time that I know how toward the reason why I am undeservingly blessed with a break from school, among other things. I want to remember Him in every. single. thing. that. I. do. And one can only hope that God can speak through in every which way He desires. I think. No. I know that this is all I want. And not forget. And to not worry of incomplete sentences. Because, to be frank, my thoughts are definitely not complete more than half of the time.

But to be totally honest, maybe it has a little to do with the fact that others can read it, too. This, then, will keep me subconsciously accountable. And like our friendly Juicy Fruit commercial had once enlightened us back in the '90's, caring is sharing -- it can be fun.

So, anyway, I decided to blog again.

I want to chew on the things ahead of me before I simply take it in with an impatience of what is next.
Catch every ounce of what it has to give.

Merry Christmas Eve, friends.

Celebrate this time of remembrance.

Don't forget the splendor and amazing grace.