it was for me

A cross is a rather simple structure. Two rough pieces of wood, one nailed perpendicularly on top of the other. There is no refinement or glory, though many modern Christians proudly wear a silver or gold cross, beautifully embellished, around their necks. No, the cross on which my Savior bled & died was no thing of beauty. It was rough, crude, & extremely painful. There isn't a torture practiced today that is more horrendous than that of the Roman crucifiction.

Isaiah 53:4-5 says, "Surely He has borne our griefs, & carried our sorrows; yet we did esteem Him stricken, smitten of God, & afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; & with His stripes we are healed." Do you realize what that means? Christ died for me. He was beaten by men & repulsed by His Father in order to pay the enormous price for my sins. The awesomeness of His great sacrifice should never stop amazing me, yet, day-by-day I find myself complacent & often repeating the same sins over & over. The sin He died for. His pain: it was for me.

In dorm devotions tonight, Holly, my dorm supervisor, challegened us with the reality of the cross. We each were asked to bring a 3x5 card & a pen to devotions. Before starting her challenge, she handed out small finishing nails. One for each person. On that small piece of paper we were to write out one sin that we struggle with daily. As I wrote just one of the many sins I so often repeat, Holly explained that when Christ died on Calvary, He died for my sin. His pain & suffering nailed my sin to the cross. It was for me. The notecard was folded in half & each girl took her notecard & nail to a small, simple cross Holly had at the front of the room. Our sins were nailed to the cross. There was complete silence in a room filled with 60+ girls who are rather known for giggling, jokes, & laughter. The image was real. Christ died for me. It was my sin that nailed Him there.

Christ's body hung on the cross by just 3 nails, yet our cross was covered with 60+ notecards held by 60+ nails. Christ has already paid the price for them all.

It was for me.

be a missionary

Have you ever had one of those days where God reveals something so amazing & you know it was just for you? Have you ever had it happen twice in one day? What if the same lesson was reinforced a third time? Would it grab your attention & change your life?

Today was the opening of Calvary's missions conference. I have always loved missions conference. At home, the foyer of the church is teaming with people going down the hallways that surround two sides of the auditorium. Faces young, old, & everywhere in between are looking at presentation boards, picking up prayer cards, & talking with the various missionary families. In our opening service, the congregation sings "We've a Story to Tell to the Nations" as high school boys bring in the flags of the countries represented by the missionaries attending the conference that week. When we finish the hymn, each missionary & their country is presented to the audience. It's wonderful. As I see the parade of nations, I am moved. I don't think I am called into missions, but as each flag sweeps the air as the young man turns to face the congregation, I wish, for just a moment, that I could minister with the missionary family. See life as they see it.

Like I said, today was the opening service for Calvary's missions conference. In Sunday School, the Lord first grabbed my attention as Caleb Stein spoke from the book of Jonah. He captivated me for the rest of the hour with two statements he made in his introduction: Everything in the book of Jonah glorified God except Jonah & Jonah only wanted to love those he thought were deserving. It's a shame, but Jonah is an accurate representation of me & how I view others, specifically the Lost. Missionary Stein encouraged us to see others as God sees them: to share His mercy with others. Jonah did not love the people of Nineveh as God loved them; he did not see that God's love is greater than any sin & His grace is far greater than we can ever imagine. Sunday School rocked my boat.

Pastor Loggans' service following Sunday School went hand-in-hand with the lesson on Jonah. He spoke form Matthew 9. Again, it was Pastor Loggans' introduction that focused me in on the rest of the service: "One of the most overwhelmin thoughts known to man: God uses us!" He presented a dire situation: a multitude of unbelievers, a deliverant supplication: "The work of God moves forward on its knees", & a declared solution: "Here am I, Lord, send me."

As I studied for tests & wasted all too much time on facebook this afternoon, I could not get off of my mind the lesson that the Lord was teaching me: Do I see others as Chrsit does? Am I praying & willing to serve wherever He leads?

Not surprisingly, Mr. Trainer's message this evening both reinforced & expanded the messages from this morning. His challenge? What does it take to motivate me to take advantage of divine appointments? I should be looking at people through Christs eyes, because the way I see them determines how I will respond to them. His challenge came from Luke 4. The context: Christ reads from Isaiah in the synagoge & proclaims Himself as the much anticipated Messiah. Luke 4:17 lists 5 ways that Christs views the lost: poor (spiritually bankrupt), broken-hearted (emotionally destitute), captives (morally bound to sin), blind (intellectually near-sighted), & bruised (mortally demolished/hopeless).

Am I seeing others as Christ does? Does my heart break knowing what they are missing & do I rejoice to share my Christ with others?

The timing of today was no coincidence. God truly was working & "remaining anonymous." Just 2 weeks ago, Mr. Trainer presented the various missions trip opportunities we as students had for Spring Break & this summer. It was a hard decision. Two teams interested me. One to Uganda and another Ireland. As I weighed the pros & cons, the "still small voice" became louder & more clear. I knew which missions trip I was to apply for. After much prayer & counsel, it became apparent to me to apply to be part of the medical missions team to Uganda in March, despite my lack of medical skills. As of yet, I don't know if I have been accepted as part of the team, but I know, with all my heart, that just by applying I have followed the Lord's will. It's in His hands now.

Uganda won't be the beginning of my missions trip, though. It has to begin now. I have heard the Lord &, whether I accept or reject His calling, I will be changed. I'm chosing to look at others as Christ does. To have compassion on the poor, broken-hearted, blind, & bruised captives.

How will you respond?

my car

The Lord constantly amazes me. Just when I think life is out of control, just when I begin to despair because of finances, He shows me that His power is infinite. He reminds me that I am & have nothing without Him.

This summer, as I put away money for this semester's college bill, I began saving money for a car. The amount of money I had accumulated by August did not amount to much. In fact, I don't think I could by one tire with the money I had, nevertheless, it was a pitiful start to a need.

At the end of the summer my computer, which was a gracious gift from my aunt & uncle after my computer died my freshman year, began to have problems that interferred with performing simple tasks. The biggest frustration was that it would no longer hold a charge, nor could I charge it with my cable. I was frustrated, but determined to make it last me at least this semester.

God amazes me. I texted Mom about buying a computer at the exact moment that my parents were looking at computers in the Watertown WalMart. While I was considering using up my last summer paycheck to buy what I needed, my parents were talking about my need. Dad agreed to help me with my computer. He called it my car. Why? The price I would pay Dad would exhaust my car saving. It was worth it. Though I wanted that money to go toward a car, God knew what I truly needed: a computer.

No, my car does not get great gas milage, nor can I use it to take a weekend vacation home. Though some my age may think that a car would have been more beneficial as I college student, I know that the Lord specifically wanted me to have my "car": a 17.3" Toshiba. And with it I have been able to travel the world.

secret place

Let's be honest, life is hectic & filled with an incredible amount of noise. Sometimes, even in a crowded, noise-filled room, I feel the need to be alone & experience some peace & quiet. In the past couple of months, the Lord keeps reminding me that I have a secret place only found in Him. A place where I can escape the noise & hectic activities of life & be filled with His peace.

I can't say when the Lord first began to show me that He is my secret place, but I can trace the lesson to two things: The Secret Place by Ron Hamilton & The Diary of Anne Frank by Goodrich & Hackett.

The Diary of Anne Frank immersed me in the world of European Jews during World War II. I first read the play at the encouragement of a friend, & immediately fell in love with the story. In fact, I spent hours with Anne, Peter, & Mr. Frank as I memorized a selection for the college commencement competition. The Lord taught me, through the struggle of the Frank family, that He is my secret place, the place where I can hide from the terrors, trials, & wars of the world. Surrounded by bias & hatred, Anne chose to be optimistic & learned to love her secret place.

The other instrument the Lord used to turn me to His secret place was a song I learned in church choir at Windsor: The Secret Place by Ron Hamilton & Cheryl Reid. The words are so powerful. Each time I sing the song or hear it sung, I cannot help but feel that I am surrounded by the Lord. The song reminds me that no matter how loud & hectic life gets, now matter how weak I feel, no matter what trial I am facing, in Him I can find hope. I close my eyes & find that I am in my secret place.

I've found a secret place

Of comfort & release,

A special place of healing,

A quiet place of peace.

And everyone who dwells there

Finds rest beneath God's wings.

In the shade of His pavilion

New strength He always brings.

- - -

I find hope, I find grace

Far away from the world's embrace.

He gives me rest; He keeps me safe,

I find His strength, I seek His face

In the secret place.

- - -

With every trial He brings,

My Lord will make a way--

To strengthen & protect me,

To help me face each day.

He leads me through the valley

To draw me closer still,

Knowing even in the shadows

I find his perfect will.

masquerade

Have you ever watched Phantom of the Opera? The mask that the phantom wears is truly unique: it only covers the afflicted quarter of his face. I remember the first time that I watched the movie, thinking that maybe the mask hid nothing at all. But then, Christine removes it . . . & the face hidden beneath can only be described as horribly disgusting. No one really believes Christine because they have never seen the phantom unmasked for themselves. In fact, as the entire opera house celebrates the opening of a new performance no one seems to notice the phantom walking among them. Why? It's a masquerade, everyone is hiding their faces from the others.

Once a month my church has special group meetings on a Sunday evening. These meetings allow male leaders to encourage the men & women leaders to encourage the ladies. We ladies have been discussing Titus 2:3-5 "The aged women likewise . . . that they may teach the young women to be sober, to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God be not blasphemed." On July 5, Mrs. O spoke on being chaste, or pure, in all areas of life.

What does pure living have to do with a masquerade? Well, Mrs. O pointed out that being chaste is not just living physically pure, but being pure in every area of life. Before Mrs. O began speaking, each lady received a paper mask with different areas of ministry (Sunday School, K4T, music, prayer warrior) written on the front. She explained that we often "decorate" our life with outward actions like we decorate the outside of a beautiful mask. I walk around in a masquerade, hiding my true purity (or lack thereof) underneath masks of ministry. Mrs. O challenged us not to be satisfied with just looking pure, but living a completely pure life from the inside out. She had us turn over the mask & write down areas that weren't so pure in our lives . . . areas that only family, close friends, & God know. As I wrote on the back of my mask, I realized that, all too often, I'm living in a masquerade.

I could write for some time about the things that I learned in that short challenge, but I think the most important one is to take off the mask & end the masquerade. There are areas of my life that may seem ugly, like the Phantom's deformity, but with the Lord's help my life can become wholly pure.

rapunzel, rapunzel

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair that I might climb the golden stair." Rapunzel is one of my favorite fairytales. No, I don't have golden hair, but I have always cherished my long, curly red hair. I have been teased countless times by friends to give some of my hair to them. One of my professors at college proclaimed that I had his favorite hair on campus & my boss on campus calls me "Amazing Hair." Every time I had to get a haircut or trim growing up I would cry. Not just a trickle of tears, but a bawling flood of tears! So, I suppose it was a shock to both friends & family when I abruptly cut 13" of my "amazing hair" off.

Grandma Gina announced to the family that she had once again been diagnosed with cancer & would begin chemo treatments in June. My grandmother has battled various forms of cancer off & on since her late 20s, but the announcement still scared me.

I had already been considering trimming my hair for the summer. My hair, even in a ponytail, layed on the back of my neck making me very hot as I worked. When Grandma Gina announced that she had cancer, I had Mom measure my hair. If I was going to cut off 6", why not just cut off 12" & donate it to women who have lost their hair because of their battle with cancer? Though my grandmother has never lost a hair on her head in her 40+ years of battling with cancer, I decided that I would donate mine for her.

The Monday after I returned from West Virginia Mom & I went to get my hair cut. Though my hair is a little shorter than I expected, I'm glad that I was able to give my amazing hair to give a courageous woman back some of her pride.

I may not have done much, but I hope I have made an impact & encouraged others to pray for & help those fighting with cancer. After all, even Rapunzel cut her hair.

my best friend's wedding

In the '90s Julia Roberts starred in a movie, My Best Friend's Wedding. The audience was heart-broken as Julia's best friend (a handsome young man) fell in love with & married someone else. My best friend's wedding was no heart-break . . . it was a beautiful union between two amazing people.

For you to fully understand my friendship with Janessa, I'll have to start with a little history.

Janessa first visited Kansas City when we were in fourth grade. Her father was possibly taking a possition at the church, so she & her siblings were visiting the school. When she walked in I pounced on her, asked her to help me with my class project, & determined that she would be my friend. Her family moved to Kansas City that summer & we have been friends, best friends, ever since. We were virtually inseperable for the seven years that her family lived in Kansas City, with one exception: cheerleading. At the end of our junior year of high school, Mr. Van announced that the family would be moving to West Virginia. I was heart-broken, kinda like Julia Roberts' character, but for a different reason (after all, I wasn't hoping to marry my best friend). Due to pre-arranged plans, Janessa & her brother, Peter, stayed with my family the last two weeks of the summer before moving. Though we did next to nothing, those are the days that stick out most in my mind.

I never thought that the next time I visited her home it would be for my best friend's wedding.

Mom, Crys, & I left for West Virginia early Wednesday morning for an exciting weekend fully focused on my best friend's wedding. Wednesday night I spent the night with Janessa & some of her friends from West Virginia. We had fun watching movies, snacking, & playing games. My favorite part of the evening was not when there was lots of noise & people, but when we went to bed. Janessa & I stayed in a room together. Though I was tired from a long day (12 hours) of driving, nothing would have replaced being able to just talk with my best friend. Nothing in the world beats being able to talk with someone face-to-face.

Thursday Janessa & I set out on a "short" walk to the "near-by" convienience store for some slushies. The walk was a little further than JV thought, so when some of the girls drove by we did not hesitate to catch a ride to get our slushies & then headed to the mall to meet Aron & the guys. Mom & Crys met me at the mall & we hung out until it was time to head to the park for dress rehersal. Pastor Wiebe kept rehersal short & sweet so we could get to the delicious meal that Aron's parents prepared. As the party dissolved, some of the girls at rehersal begged to go out. The guys bummed out (claim of no money), so the girls went to an arcade. Once again it was great to spend time with Janessa & some of her friends, but we were all focused on one thing: my best friend's wedding.

Friday was a day with nothing scheduled . . . at first. Late Thursday night, Janessa, Aron, & Dan Moore, the photographer, decided to take the bride & groom pictures Friday afternoon instead of Saturday morning. Being both the maid-of-honor & Janessa's best friend, I volunteered to tag along & help wherever needed. So, Mom & I arrived at the Van's for breakfest. While Mom & Mrs. Van ran errands (like picking up the wedding gown) I did JV's hair & helped her primp for pictures. Before long the moms, the dress, the photographer, the sister, & the fiance' were all at the house getting ready for pictures. Before the beautiful bride came out into the livingroom, I called Aron into the room so he could see his bride in her wedding dress for the first time. I will never forget the look on his face . . . nor could I wait to get out of that room so they could have a minute alone. Before long we were driving around Huntington watching the photographer capture beautiful pictures of the bride & groom. No matter what was going on around them, their soul focus was each other. It was beautiful. I don't think it really sank in until that afternoon that the next day was my best friend's wedding.

After all the fun of driving from spot to spot, helping the bride in & out of the car, carrying the train & bouquet, & giving up my flip-flops so the bride could walk through the mud, Mom, Crys, & I went to the mall & Applebee's to enjoy a little time alone. Later that evening, Janessa came over & I did her nails, enjoying one last talk together as single friends. After she left, Mom, Crys, & I walked over to the church & helped the Van's set up the reception hall for the next afternoon. I went to bed at 1 a.m. excited about the next day: my best friend's wedding.

I woke up bright & early on Saturday excited about everything. Mom helped me finish my hair before we all headed over to the church to meet the rest of the bridal party as they primped & prepared for pictures. Though I had already seen Janessa in her wedding dress, helping her get ready for the wedding took my breath away . . . & not just mine, Aron's too. Though they had spent the previous day together in wedding garb, when Aron saw Janessa on Saturday morning, his eyes sparkled. The Lord truly blessed my best friend!

The ceremony was short & sweet with only one major hitch: the music being played at the wrong time (Viva la Vida during the sand ceremony). It was simply beautiful. I did not need Pastor Wiebe's encouragement to keep my eyes only on the bride; seeing her as a bride captivated all of my attention. The rest of the day seemed to fly by. The best part of the day, for me, wasn't part of the ceremony or being with everyone at the reception, but for 5 minutes at the end of the reception I was able to talk with Janessa alone.

May 30, 2009 was a wonderful beginning to, what I believe, a wonderful life. To you, it may not have been anything special, but for me, it was my best friend's wedding.