The Tricky Part of Dreaming

Two delightful reads for you, friends:

This amazing article on teaching and learning,

And a post about the beautiful, complicated, very twisty turn-y thing we call growing up.

There comes a day when, you look at your life and realize you are in that place, that time frame that everyone reminisces about when they are 30. You're no longer "too young" to live alone or have a boyfriend -- because right now, you are living those precious days that shape the rest of your future, forever. It's when you're young enough to do stupid things, but old enough to make it happen on your own. It's when life begins to change in ways you never thought it would -- not drastically, not tragically, neither for the worse or for the better -- just change. When you realize you are growing up, not in that way of turning 12 and being allowed to stay home by yourself, or turning 16 and being able to drive. It's your person, it's your being, it is struggling to free itself into the new world of adulthood without losing the joys of childhood. When you realize that your parents' stories of "we met freshman year" and "that's when I decided to major in history" is the timeframe of life that you are living right now. There is so much at stake, so much that could change at each move -- yet to recoil and hide in fear would be detrimental. You have to fight for what you want, risk failing at it, you have to be able to be in wonder, to be vulnerable, like when you were 12 -- but to respond to it with a heart and soul that has been molded by time. You have to move forward, you have to take a deep breath and cling to the people you love, who love you back, to what little truth you know, because the world is dark, and light is precious.

Two of my favorite modern instrumental artists in the world just collaborated to make one of the most epic music videos I think I have seen in my life, ever.

It's falling from the clouds
A strange and lovely sound
I hear it in the thunder and rain
It's ringing in the skies
Like cannons in the night
The music of the universe plays

Beautiful and free
Song of Galaxies
It's reaching far beyond the milky way
Lets join in with the sound
C'mon let's sing it loud
As the music of the universe plays

You are holy great and mighty
The moon and the stars declare who You are
I'm so unworthy, but still You love me
Forever my heart will sing of how great You are

(Cannons/Phil Wickham)

Today I...

Watched the Hobbit at 12am
Made paper snowflakes with small children
Went on a treasure hunt
Watched a documentary with BABY POLAR BEARS.
Ate homemade gluten free LEMBAS

I want you to be happy, yes.
I want you to experience fulfillment - but not always:
I want you to have just enough pain to keep you human.
Just enough hurt to keep you humble.
I want you have a hunger for ultimate satisfaction.
I want your heart to yearn for truth with a desire so great that it burns within your soul.
I want you to be consumed with One that is not of yourself. 
oh love, I want so much more for you than merely a happy life.

Like Butter Scraped Across Too Much Bread

This, my precious, is the definition of epic:



My only complaint? It doesn't need to be split into three two and a half hour movies. Just no.

Landing in a bucket. Or an umbrella. Or possibly a lampshade.

You know that "trust" game that we used to play as kids?
Or in Sunday school during youth group?

You fall back and you trust the person behind you to catch you. (or supposedly. That was the point, at least)

Faith...trust...it's not just that. Because when you're standing there trusting that person to catch you, you are also expecting them to. You know they're going to do it. (or at least try to. You get the idea.)

Faith isn't like that.

Faith is wild.

And God is not always going to catch you with his arms.


Earth shattering, I know. We like that picture to go with the song, oh, I'm happy in your arms or something mushy like that.

Sometimes he's going to let you fall for a long time before he catches you. Sometimes he's going to use a parachute and make you think you're falling and then you realize you're not. Sometimes he'll use something bizarre, like an upside down umbrella. Pokey. but it works, you know? Or maybe a blanket, or a swimming pool, or a tardis. Or a bucket. That would be painful.

The point is, he is going to catch you, you just don't know how.

Trust is not expectation.

Trust is placing your faith in the truth that God knows what you need, not what you think you need. It is knowing that it is not up to me to decide whether I get land on a fluffy mattress or a bed of pillows. Actually, it might be a bed of blackberry bushes for all I know.

The choice is not mine. The outcome is unknown. But the peace is transcendent.