broken things

What are we but broken things?

Perfectly-crafted china dolls with the faces smashed in

by the right foot of a defiant child.

Vigorous explorers and learners and lovers

with a south-pointing compass

and books of gibberish

and eyes that desecrate works of art.

We make our lives into backward things:

creating gods in our image;

performing sacrifices and withholding the life blood;

drinking the blood till we’ve gorged ourselves

like ticks.

Ah, life is sweet, and what our hands have made is great.

Who among us has not murdered their brother?

Who has not wished his neighbor harm?

Who of you are not first-stone-throwers?

Or do not speak in conflicting tongues?

Walking, crippled paradoxes are we.

What are we but whining, ignorant children

whom Nature in all her glory cannot feed?

Friends, without a guide, a light, a life-fixer,

a wise and knowing purpose-giver,

a self-sacrificing kinsman-redeemer,

we are but lost and broken things.

and three remain.

It’s been so long, I decided to resurrect this old blog. Facebook has rendered this site unnecessary, purposeless, and so it has sat here, taking up space and collecting dust. But it’s still my small little corner, and the fact that very few of you will read this makes it a quiet, discreet place to ramble, and maybe, be heard by a few.

It’s been so long since I’ve written a poem, longer still since I’ve posted one here. I was so sick of this staleness that I forced myself to write, and, lo and behold, it worked. It’s not the greatest, but sweet and quiet, and well reflective of my life right now. I hope you consider it and enjoy.

One bird-song, one last star:

“None know the plans I have for thee..” said the Voice from the dark.

A child’s voice, “I will go,”

a hope so new and strong,

then gone, gone, gone,

gone were the light wings of youth;

gone were the studded night skies, smothered by winter’s mantle;

gone were the dreams that fell like rain-drops on young green minds;

gone were the heaves and throws of passion,

gone were the oceans of terror and courage,

gone was desire that sparked and blazed against the night.

all gone, swept away like dross,

and with the fine, molten metal, He began anew:

only three survived,

three alone to possess, to claim, like sacred jewels,

three bestowed on one plucked from flames,

and forged into a crown of perfect, simple grace.

God’s doing a lot in my life right now. I can see it and point to it, His work is so thick and obvious, though not always pleasant. So many times this year, I thought He had taken me as far as I could possibly go, but all things are possible with God, and he has taken me farther. So I’m still waiting for the freshness and brilliance of the time where truly, only three will be left: faith, hope, and love.

For the few of you who read this, I’m back. You can’t get rid of me that easy

“Send me”

Something about waiting for the laundry to be done causes those perfect moments of eager prayer. The house is silent, its other occupants having gone to work or bed, and I’m here listening for the whir of the washing machine to cease. To keep myself busy, I flip through those ever-familiar Honduras pictures.  It’s been ten months since I’ve returned from Honduras-nearly a year. And yet those pictures have not faded in their value. Even still, those frozen images of poverty and rejoicing convey just as potently the things God had in store for me there.

The way I carry on about that trip, you’d think I was there for several months, not on a simple, week-long work trip. Nothing special. But God did such a work in me there, that I could never forget it. Nearly a year later, and those images strike up the same old chord of pure worship for what God has done.

Waiting for my laundry, I think of the people I met there. A year later, I pray for them and wonder how life has treated them since. I think of Franklin, who was raised at Rancho Ebeneezar, a senior last year, and wanted to return to the Ranch and work in administration. Jose, who wanted to go to medical school this year. Heidi and Elizabeth–have they grown to know the Lord? Are those precious children free from harm?

As I flip through these pictures from what seems like so long ago, I’m overwhelmed with worship for what God accomplished. The words of the David Crowder Band, repeating “He is Holy. Let us praise Him. He is holy. Hallelujah.” He led me to see so many miricles ten months ago on that short little trip. I want to see that again, so badly.

So, if God wills, I’ll be able to go to Guatemala this comming summer for two weeks. What a long time to wait. I’ll won’t know anybody, but that doesn’t matter. The faces I see in the pictures from ten months ago reminds me that that doens’t matter. I have to go!

Umm, does this belong to anyone?

Do you ever have something happen that simply creeps you out more than worlds can relay? I’ve got a story that will chill your blood, will quicken your heart, and make you look over your shoulder and watch your own step. After today, I will never see my living room the same way. Ever again. Well, at least until not for another week or so.

I was sitting on the living room floor reading A Tale of Two Cities and eating popcorn. For those of you who have never read it, it is a deliciously dangerous book, filled with violence, distrust, danger, and one beautiful lady known as Madame Guillotine. I was just in the middle of reading about the streets of Paris running red, heads on spikes, and all similarly yucky stuff, when I saw a piece of popcorn that I dropped on the carpet.

or so i thought

I reached over to pick up the discarded particle and put it in the empty bowl, when I noticed : this is much to hard and much to white to be popcorn. It was tiny but hard, like a pebble. I inspected it closely, rolling it between my fingers. When I finally realized what I was holding in my hand, I jummped back (while I was still sitting on the floor- that’s a hard thing to do), gasped in horror, and dropped the grotesque thing.

It was a human tooth.

I called Danny upstairs, the only one in my house who has any baby teeth left, and demanded an explanation. He picked up the tooth, examined it, and said quite innocently “It’s not mine.” and dropped it back on the carpet. What? I asked. Not yours? Than who’s is it? Danny shrugged.

There are only three possible suspects. Only three children have been in our house this summer who even have baby teeth. But these suspects still do not solve the mystery because 1)Danny is sure that none of them had lose or lost teeth at the time of their visiting us, 2) They came over weeks ago, and the tooth was found only today, and 3) I have defiantly vacuumed the carpet a few times since then.

Danny decided this was a good time to inform me that a few days ago, he found a molar in our driveway. So what is going on here? Is my house being invaded by toothy zombies, or toothless children? I’m reminded in that weird scene in the Life of Pi, where the main character lands (or thinks he lands) on an island that dissolves humans, leaving only the teeth and bones, which the character found wrapped up in a ball of leaves hanging from a ferocious, acidic, man-eating tree. That recollection made me feel much better. not

Maybe it’s karma. My family ate at a restaurant the other week, and Danny lost a tooth there. We joked that (but didn’t really) if we called the waiter and claimed that Danny found a tooth in his food, we would get a free dinner. Maybe, in payment of our malicious thoughts, my house is being filled with random teeth without people attached.

So anyways, the tooth was promptly disposed of, hands were washed with hot water, and Sarah is thoroughly creeped out!

Moral of the story: the next time you eat popcorn, be careful what you put in your mouth, or pick up from the floor. You never, ever know what you could find.

the beginning of the end of summer

I do not know whether  or not this has been the best summer of my life, though it has certainly been a brilliant one. I do know, however, that it has been the biggest summer. It’s been so full of ups and downs, plenty of change, and anticipation of more change to come. In the midst of all the excitement, preparations for school starting, last-minute get-together, stress and laughter, I’ve recently found that I have lost track of joy.

The other day, I specifically asked God for Joy. Later that same day, I was overwhelmed with tears, and I wondered why, on the very day I sought God’s peace, Joy was suddenly so far from me. But God did give me a glimpse of joy, though small. It wasn’t at all what I expected. But I did learn a bit about Joy:

Joy is a very meek, extremely shy creature, and only comes out in the quite. It is polite- never pushing its way in. Instead it waits, unseen, to be sought after and invited in. It may take some coaxing and convincing. Sometimes Joy must be beckoned, and the slightest show of anger or fear will frighted it away. Joy requires the complete loss of everything before you may be graced with its presence. You must come before it empty-handed and smiling. Only then will it come in and settle on your lap, with steps so soft you can hardly hear its approach. But by its warmth and gentle purr, you know its come at last.

It’s going to be a rough month, I think. But not an impossible one.

Sarah in CO

So I just got back from my third 180 Colorado trip. It was just as marvelous, just as challenging, though a lot more crazy than the first two. We had a wild group, but, as always, it was well worth it. Our guides said this was one of the hardest trails they use- there was a ton of bushwhacking, rock climbing, marsh-wading and creek-jumping. No peaks, but we reached about 13 thousand feet, and there were the most incredible views I have ever seen. The variety of the wilderness we passed was exquisite. We walked for miles through gigantic aspen groves, and then we would suddenly be in a pine forest. We hiked up to the top of a small 13er, and the wind was whipping mercilessly, and the view was wild and freeing, beauty unlike any I’ve seen before, even on other Colorado trips.

What got me most is how God, the Creator of the wilderness and sustainer of everything, dwells not in houses made my men, or even in those vast, breathtaking mountains. No, He chose to make His home in us. We stand in awe at the wilderness; we should stand in greater awe at humans, who were made in God’s image.

and…here’s a poem that kinda reflects that.

I found you in this valley,

though your face I could not see.

You hid me in a crevice; you turned your back to me.

In the gentlest of whispers, you split the raging waves.

You set a path before me, on your hand you wrote my name.

and I began my journey to your tabernacle doors.

The mountainside had crumbled;

you supported every step.

And when the air I breathed grew thin, you gave my every breath.

Through trees and hills you led me; helplessly I came,

drawn forever forward by the beauty of your Name.

I will find you if I knock at your tabernacle doors.

I heard voices in these mountains

that sang of Yahweh, King.

Grieved by my own poverty, no present could I bring.

But still you called me onward. I drank your royal blood:

the bitter wine of sacraments, the promise of your love.

I seek my own anointment at your tabernacle doors.

Your glory, now unveiled

by your freeing grace.

Before your store of riches, I realize my breaking-place.

I tremble as I meet you; I see your face revealed.

I was bought to know you, and by your sacred seal,

I will claim your promises a your tabernacle doors.

God of wonders.

I think it’s time for a post.

Hello to all you French trip peoples, though you probably won’t read this until you come back home. I miss you all and pray for your safety. Hope you guys are having fun.

Got back from Canadia on Tuesday. The weather was mostly cold and rainy. It’s nice to have at least one rainy day, but five or six is a bit too many, in my opinion. Fishing was really good. We had two succulent walleye dinners, and i caught a five pound bass. That was fun. Best, though, was simply being able to sit and read what I want. It’s been an entire school year since I’ve had the time to lose myself in the novel of my choice without having to annotate, analyze, mark, and write and essay with it. I read nine and a half books in ten days. Simply delicious.

I really missed you guys last week. Besides fish and read, there isn’t much to do. But I love that place so much. God’s presence is everywhere, but there are very few places where His glory flows so clearly in all your surroundings. I think the Colorado Rockies is the only place on earth that brings me to such a tremendous wonder. Who would think to put pink in the sky? Who would pile the clouds so high on top of one another that they look heavy, and yet glad? How would a beaver know to build a dam without someone to teach it? And why would a simple human be called away from all modern conveniences into the wilderness and be astounded by it? For that is one of the greater evidences for a personal God, the fact that humans have a desire to behold and wonder at nature, and nature makes us crave more. If we are indeed products of mere accident in nature, why would we desire more than our environment, more than is supplied to us? Nature supplies all our needs. Everything we crave-food, shelter, company-is provided by nature, except that uniquely human desire for a purpose. For a god.

If created things like the sky and water display a splendor this magnificent, how much more astounding will the perfect heaven be, when we see God face to face? “Now we know only in part, then we shall know fully…”

The colorado trip is in less than a week. This is my third time. I think the most challenging thing about that trip is realizing the astounding greatness of God. I’m ready. I’m excited.

Hi

Sooo…while Aaron was visiting with Grandma and Grandpa, he and Brent put this picture on my desktop

I not only changed my password, but also hit him.  I don’t think it made much of an impression on him though, cause right after I changed it, he put it back up…Grrrr evil brothers!  They didn’t even spell her name right.

I wish I could have spent more time with you guys yesterday (maybe I could have actually seen Sarah.)  I could have told more stories about my life and heard more about Nanners talking in her sleep and falling off beds.  But Mom wanted to go, so I figured I’m dragging her around France in a couple of weeks, the least I can do is let her sleep in her own bed for as long a possible.

Anyway, I had better go.  TTYL!

~Ashley

what nanners really thinks of Narnia

“I am Prince Caspian” “You are a mouse”

Yay for exploding brains!

Steve is leading a small group study at church called 12 Basic Christian Beliefs. In short, it is a condensed version of the monster book Systematic Theology, which is a condensed version of the mega-monster book (the title of which escapes me at the moment.) Though I’m not in this study this year, I did do it last year. And oh, what fun it was. The chapter that the group attempted to discuss was titled “What is God like?”

Wow. I mean, where do you even begin? The fist thing established in this chapter is that God exists independently. That in itself is a mind-bender. Before heaven, before the angles were created, before time began, God Exists, deriving pleasure from Himself, Glorifying Himself in His Being. And that’s just the beginning.

God is Omnipresent, meaning He does not have size or dimension. He does not occupy space, and yet “he is present in every point of space with his whole being.” Here’s a mind-bender Chris pointed out: Say there is a box here. If God is Omnipresent, then he is in the box. He also is occupying every infinitely small space in the box, in between and within atoms, and, at the same time, for God is not bound by time, He can remove himself completely from the box. God is the invisible, omniscient Spirit who delights completely in Himself. He cannot lie, cannot deny Himself, cannot be tempted, and yet He is limited by nothing, able to do anything. Reflect on that for a minute.

I saw the new Narnia movie yesterday, and then again today. One of my favorite lines is when Lucy meets Aslan again. She cries out “Alan! You’re bigger!” and he answers “Yes, child. Every year you grow, you will find me bigger.” How true is that. The more we know God, the more we realize how big and incomprehensible he is. It’s enough to make a person’s brain explode, and it is delightful.

~Sarah