Travel Blog

I am going to be writing about my travels on a different blog. In case you want to follow along, here is the site.

http://callantravels.blogspot.com

Identity

I am not good at a lot of things. Like basketball. And giving compliments. And hiding when I am frustrated. And then I am good at other things, like fender benders, making people feel small. Eating too much sugar. And that's my problem. My identity is all wrapped up in things that make me less than. What is that all about? I never thought I was like that. Until a project we were given at OSS last week. We were supposed to cut out images from magazines to make a collage of 3 things that represented our identity in God's eyes. Mine were the phrase, "Who is in the drivers seat?" meant to recognize the struggle I always have with being in control. The second was an amtrak train in motion meant to represent my ridiculous pace in life. And the third a bunch of watches. This one was about my obsession with time, efficiency and frustration with others' lack of these things. I didn't realize how negatively I assumed God viewed me until that moment, looking down at my sad, sad piece of paper. I mean, what kind of God/Father is it that I serve? The greatest earthly father in the world doesn't go around describing his children by their flaws. "Oh, my daughter Molly really has a temper. And Jack is the one with the pride issue." Why would my Father do that? And even as I type this... I think, "Yeah, but what else would He say?" I hate compliments. Always have. But why? I don't believe them maybe. I often think people are trying to manipulate me by getting on my "good side." It's been different these last few years. I guess since I moved to Santa Cruz. I am trusting people more, their motives. But the thing is, compliments, even when people mean it, haven't changed my view of what God thinks of me. And that makes since. No one knows me like Him. And He doesn't give compliments. Not in words at least. So here I am, wondering... What is it that You think of me? How would You describe me? Father, show me who I am through Your eyes.

Making a Wish... for Hope

I wish, I wish upon a star.... It's interesting the difference between wishing and hoping. We seem to hope for what is possible, or for what is likely to happen. We wish for things beyond our reach. And yet the Hope we have in Christ is even bigger than what we could ever think to wish for. He brought us life, He made us His children, He provides everything we need and heals the places in which we are broken. I am finding myself blown away at the lengths God will go in our lives. To be intentional. To bring joy, peace, hope. I don't need a dandelion to blow on to dream big. I have a Father who cares for me, for my desires, for my good. Who is willing to listen and guide. And sometimes He gives me what I desire. But most of the time He gives me more than I could imagine.

Freedom

This is Budward Jr. He was my pet parakeet for 3 and a half splendid weeks. He flew away. I am going to get Budward the third in September. For those of you living in the dorms this summer: You are welcome:)

Making Changes

I think the thing that makes me most excited when I imagine being old is, well, less change. Besides your body losing to gravity, life as an old person seems void of change. The old people I meet know what they think about life. And they will tell you. Because who cares what you think of them. They don't have these major life decisions to make. They don't have futures to plan. I don't mean that in a morbid way. It seems sweet. Heaven is just around the corner and life here has been lived. No change.

And to be honest... the only time I EVER agree with the previous paragraph is when change is staring me in the face and I want to run. Run from the pressure. Run from the doubt. The doubt in myself. The doubt that God won't show up. Because the truth is, when I don't feel overwhelmed by some daunting decision, I love change. I love that my future is still out there... waiting to be lived. I love that I will not be the same person in 10 years. Hopefully I will be different tomorrow. I love that what happens today will CHANGE what happens tomorrow and the next day and months from now. I love being able to grow. I love that God designed us to be spurred on in truth. And more than the change I love... I love that He does not.

But in crisis... or in my over-dramatic response to change... I find myself wishing I could sit in a rocking chair on the porch of my house, old and wise, looking back on this time. Laughing at my insecurities as a 20-something girl. Change is so hard. Duh, Callan. But it's only hard because I want it to be meaningful, to have impact.

I know you can relate. Because you are changing. You have a decision to make about something. You have big plans in the near future. You are changing jobs. You are meeting new people. You are praying for growth in an area of weakness. I know I will never be alone in my fear of the unknown. Because I have you. Because we are all nervous. And we have a God who is not. We have a God who lets us wig out, only to comfort us and bring us peace as we move towards Him. I don't mean to put a pretty bow on the issue, as if to say its going to be ok. Because taking a risk means it might not be. It might not be ok, but it will be good. He has a way of doing that...

Thoughts on a drive thru Santa Cruz

Spent some time in great conversation today. My friend Carissa and I talked about a lot of stuff as girls can do... but something stood out. What is my goal? My purpose? To learn how to be a good wife? To be a better principal? A better friend? To help others glorify God? To stand up for what I believe in? To learn more understanding in what others believe in?

All good things. All things I aspire to do. But I think I am supposed to be me and love Him as much as possible. HE makes all things new. HE will finish the work he began in me. I may never get married. I'm not going to be a principal forever. I know for a fact friends come and go, more than I'd like. But I will always be His daughter. And I can do that. He gives me everything I need to do that, to be that.

"Fear always springs from ignorance." -Ralph Waldo Emerson

If that is true... kids have it rough. They are experiencing EVERYTHING for the first time! Tonight I was reminded of that.

I had a kid in the health center at 10pm with a fever, waiting for his dad to pick him up. His name was Pete, let's say. Anyway, Pete is described by his teachers as a "deep thinker." He once asked in class, "Is it better to believe in many God's or not to believe in God at all." Wow. Sweet kid, and as he lay huddled under his blankets, trembling, he said to me,

"Excuse me. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." I said. His chin was quivering.

"What if my fever gets higher? I mean what if it keeps going up?"

"Don't worry buddy. Your body knows what to do. Just take some deep breaths." I didn't realize how scared he was, until this next question.

With huge, alligator tears rolling down his cheeks, Pete asked, "What if its too late for me?"

My heart broke. I know its a bit dramatic, but he wasn't trying to be. He was completely genuine. See, he has never had a fever before and it was all new to him: the body shaking, feeling warmer and warmer. It's miserable and if you've never felt it before... wow, I'd be scared too. How often do kids go through things for the first time? Constantly. And how aware of that are we. They're like aliens on a foreign planet.

Fear can be paralyzing. Especially when it can be justified. So the greatest gift we can give the kids around us is teaching them to face their fears. And remembering to keep facing our own fears too.

"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."
-Franklin D. Roosevelt

It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend. - William Blake

It's been awhile. I can't get the hang of this whole blogging thing. Don't ever feel like I have much to say. But I guess it's worth a shot. My struggle these days is forgiveness. I can forgive when I can't relate. Like if it's something I have been through before. Or if the person who wronged me seems remorseful. It's a pretty selfish way of looking at it, I know. But its those times when forgiveness is totally one sided. I can't wait for an apology. I can't wait to understand all the ins and outs of motives and intentions. I have to forgive. For no other reason except that Jesus, my Lord and Savior, has asked me to. And has done far more for me through His forgiveness than I will ever be asked to do for someone else. It's lonely in this spot. It's sad. And I wonder how often I make Him feel like this... when I am not listening. When I decide I don't need Him... When I fight His will. When all He wants is the best for me and I turn my back on Him. George MacDonald said, "Forgiveness is the giving, and so the receiving, of life."
But where I am, just short of that forgiveness, feels like the opposite. And so I wait for His hand of gentleness and deliberate leading. I need it. I can't do it alone.