Video Junkie

It's official, I am becoming a video junkie.  I absolutely LOVE making videos!  You tell me you want me to video an event, my mind immediately starts brainstorming, thinking of different shots that I want to capture, different angles that I could shoot from, all the way to the final product, what music to use, how to organize the final product, what transitions to use between clips.  I'm a little bit insane about it, actually.  

This past weekend the women at my church back home did their own version of the Amazing Race.  At the last minute, my mom asked me to come home and be one of the videographers for the event.  I didn't think much about it beforehand, but as soon as I had that camera in my hand, the ideas started flowing.  I started thinking about how I was going to put the final video together, and I made each of the teams introduce themselves to the camera, I started thinking about what shots could show that it wasn't just a game but a community-building activity, I was a busy bee of activity, trying to get as many different angles as I could.  I was assigned to be at one leg of the race where they had to row a boat around a small pond, and before each team got there, I envisioned in my head how many different places around the pond I could shoot from, and thought of creative ways to capture what each team did, so that all of them didn't end up looking the same.  I ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT!!!!  

Man, I wish I was rich and could buy a video camera and some good editing equipment.  Sigh...

My Greatest Need

Small Enough

Nicole Nordeman

Oh, Great God, be small enough to hear me now.  

There were times when I was crying from the dark of Daniel's den;

and I have asked you once or twice if you could part the sea again.

But tonight I do not need a fiery pillar in the sky.

Just want to know you're gonna hold me if I start to cry.

Oh Great God, be small enough to hear me now.

Oh Great God, be close enough to feel you now.

There have been moments when I could not face Goliath on my own. 

And how could I forget we've marched around our share of Jerichos.

But I will not be setting out a fleece for you tonight.

Just want to know that everything will be alright.

Oh, Great God, be close enough to feel you now.

All praise and all the honor be to the God of ancient mysteries

Whose every sign and wonder turn the pages of our history

But tonight my heart is heavy, and I cannot keep from whispering this prayer:

Are you there?

And I know you could leave writing on the wall that's just for me.

Or send wisdom while I'm sleeping, like in Solomon's sweet dreams.

But I don't need the strength of Samson, or a chariot in the end.

Just want to know that you still know how many hairs are on my head.

Oh Great God, be small enough to hear me now.  

God's Answer

So, I've started reading Exodus 6, and this is God's response to Moses:

"Then the Lord said to Moses, 'Now you will see what I will do to Pharaoh:  Because of my mighty hand he will let them go; because of my mighty hand he will drive them out of his country.'

God also said to Moses, 'I am the LORD.  I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob as God Almighty, but my name the LORD I did not make myself known to them.  I also established my covenant with them to give them the land of Canaan, where they lived as aliens.  Moreover, I have heard the groaning of the Israelites, whom the Egyptians are enslaving, and I have remembered my covenant. 

'Therefore, say to the Israelites: "I am the LORD, and I will bring you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians.  I will free you from being slaves to them, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgement.  I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God.  Then you will know that I am the LORD your God, who brought you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians.  And I will bring you to the land I swore with uplifted hand to give to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob.  I will give it to you as a possession.  I am the LORD.'"

-- Exodus 6:1-8

As usual, God is pretty long-winded.  Haha.  Moses asks a 2 sentence question, God gives a 12 sentence response.  Typical.

Even though I'm still processing His answer, and what it means for Moses and me, I am willing to concede that it's a pretty powerful answer.  Basically, God is saying "I AM."  His response to Moses' frustration and confusion is a re-iteration of his character, his promises, and his power and desire to bring them to life.  "I AM, therefore..."  

And though I don't know what to do with this response just yet, I have become convinced that it's okay to question God.  That actually, it's more than okay.  He WANTS us to question.  In Isaiah he invites us to reason with him (Isaiah 1:18).  I mean, Moses was a pretty cool dude, and God used him to do some amazing things (come on, he split the red sea, made water come out of a rock, wrote down the Law, and the list goes on...).  But Moses wasn't afraid to ask God the "why" question.  And when the Israelites were in the desert, Moses talked with God, face to face, as a man speaks with his friend (Exodus 33:11).  That's pretty sweet.  And David was definitely real with God.  He expressed his anger to God towards his enemies and asked God lots of "why" questions in the Psalms.  I mean, he danced around in his underwear before the Lord, for goodness sakes... you don't get much more real than that.  I think God longs for us to be real and honest with him.  He sees it all anyway...

More Thoughts on the Exodus

I've been moving along rather slowly through the book of Exodus, and I've stopped at chapter 5.  There's a question that Moses asks at the end of this chapter that is one that I've found myself asking lately:

"O, Lord, why have you brought trouble upon this people?  Is this why you sent me?  Ever since I went to Pharaoh to speak in your name, he has brought trouble upon this people, and you have not rescued your people at all."

Right on, Moses.  Go ahead.  Call God out.  

God had spoken into Moses' brokenness, called him to be a part of rescuing the people of Israel, and the only thing that had been accomplished was the increasing difficulty of their work.  Instead of being freed from their chains, more chains were added.  Understandably, Moses was confused and angry.  He had just been introduced to this new God, who at least claimed to care about His people and had convinced Moses to do crazy things to help free them.  And what did he get in return?  The Israelites threw curses down on him, and the suffering continues.  Some loving, caring God.

In a lot of ways, this is where I am right now.  My whole life, and especially in the last few years, people have been trying to convince me that God loves me and cares about my suffering.  And I have wanted to believe that so badly.  But in light of recent events, recent "boxes" that I've been packing (remember the Moving Day analogy?), I ask the same question as Moses: why?  If you care, then why?  If you love me, then why?  Some of the pieces just don't seem to fit.  

And what's interesting about chapter 5, is that Moses' question is the last verse.  In the NIV, the section is entitled "God Promises Deliverance," but unless you keep reading, the deliverance never comes.  I only printed out the text of that chapter, and haven't moved on yet.  I wonder if God ever directly answers Moses' question.  And I wonder if that answer is enough to satisfy him... or me?  I guess I'll have to let you know when I get around to chapter 6.  

A Different Kind of March Madness

I'm going to be an Aunt!!!!  

Just found out this morning, and I couldn't possibly be more excited!  The little bundle of joy is due in March.  I can't seem to get over the urge to call "it" "she."  Maybe that's a sign.  :)

Perfection Redefined

Whenever I talk about anything in the sense of the grass being greener on the other side, I am always warned to be careful.  "No one's perfect, you know" they say.  But I think that, over the years (I say that as if I'm some wise old woman), I have come to redefine the meaning of perfection.  Here are some of my thoughts on this new definition:

• Perfection isn't never making mistakes, it's owning your humanity and learning from the ones you inevitably make.

• Perfection isn't being perpetually happy, it's a willingness to wade through the not-so-happy times with patience and grace.

• Perfection isn't always being right, it's the willingness to admit when you're wrong.

• Perfection isn't finally reaching the highest of heights, it's having the perseverance to get back up when you fall.

• Perfection isn't always having your priorities straight, it's being open to seeing when you don't, and at least putting yourself on the road to getting them where they need to be.

• Perfection isn't never hurting the people you love, it's being willing to admit when you do and doing everything possible to make it right.  

• Perfection isn't having all together, it's recognizing the beauty in the mess that you are.  

• Perfection isn't having everything you need, it's doing the best you can with the cards you've been dealt.  
  

These things seem like a much more attainable goal than the commonly used definition of perfection.  And for people who at least attempt to "perfect" these characteristics in their lives, I think the grass is, in fact, a little bit greener.  

Moving Day

I was eating dinner with a friend tonight, and we hammered out this pretty amazing metaphor.  Well, maybe just I think it's amazing, because I'm freaking in love with huge metaphors.  But anyways, I thought I'd share it.  

So here's the deal.  You know when people talk about dealing with issues or brokenness, and the need to process through things, and the language that is often used is "unpacking"?  Well, we kinda went crazy with that and made this whole box and moving metaphor.

We all have some kind of brokenness in our lives, big or small.  Some of us have some pretty intense issues that have affected us in profound ways.  And at some point we decide to really dig into those issues and try to move beyond them - it's moving day.  You're not okay with your old reality, and you want to move to a healthy, more beautiful place.  You get a nice little box and start packing stuff in it.  You start looking at your life and your experiences, trying to understand them and how they have affected you.  You put all that stuff in a box, and try the best you can to "label" those experiences - family issues, insecurity, guilt, shame, eating disorders, depression... toiletries, shoes, etc.  You put them in the box as neatly as you can, and then comes the time to process them and begin to move past them.  You get those boxes in the moving van and take them to your new place, your new life.  Your new place is different, an alternate reality than what you were living in before.  But your issues and broken places aren't gone.  They're still there, they're still a part of who you are.  And in your new life, in your new reality, you have to unpack those boxes.  You have to figure out where all of the experiences fit into this new place.  But ultimately you decide where to put them.  And it's going to look different than it did before.  But the glorious thing is that the contents of the "box," that used to be ugly and broken, can actually make your new reality a beautiful place to take up residence.  

I hope that made some kind of sense.  It made sense in my head, anyways.  Any thoughts?

Unusual Love Song

I've been listening to this song a lot recently, and it really seems to describe perfectly my relationship with God.  I have been living according to the rules of another "lover," the prince of darkness, and have let his lies define who I am.  But now God is trying to rescue me from that and bring me into His light.  And I feel like this song describes that process perfectly.

Near to You

A Fine Frenzy

He and I it's something beautiful
But so dysfunctional, it couldn't last
I loved him so but I let him go
'Cause I knew he'd never love me back

Such pain as this
Shouldn't have to be experienced
I'm still reeling from the loss,
Still a little bit delirious

Near to you, I am healing
But it's taking so long
'Cause though he's gone
And you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yet, I'm better near to you.

You and I it's something different
And I'm enjoying it cautiously
I'm battle scarred, I am working oh so hard
To get back to who I used to be

He's disappearing 
Fading steadily
I'm so close to being yours
Won't you stay with me
Please

Near to you, I am healing
But it's taking so long
'Cause though he's gone
And you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yet, I'm better near to you.

I only know that I am 
Better where you are
I only know that I am
Better where you are
I only know that I belong
Where you are

Near to you, I am healing
But it's taking so long
Though he's gone
And you are wonderful
It's hard to move on

Near to you, I am healing
But it's taking so long
'Cause though he's gone
And you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yet, I'm better near to you.

Yet, I'm better near to you.

Life Verse

Last night at bible study we looked at a passage of scripture that was talking about love and how that should play out in our lives.  There was one verse in particular that really got my attention.  It's only a few words in length, but it packs in so much meaning, that I honestly think would take a whole lifetime to fully understand.  A lot of people seem to have favorite verses, or what some people call "Life verses," and I think I want this to be mine:

"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer."  -- Romans 12:12

It seems simple enough, but every word holds such profound meaning.  Last night, I was trying to describe my reaction to the verse, and I really couldn't find the words to express the reality that this verse portrays, or the yearning that it awakens in me.  

But if I had no access to any other portion of the Bible for the rest of my life, I feel like this verse would be enough.  If I can strive to make these commands the most basic reality of my being, then I would forever be in the will of God.  No matter what happens in my life, even if things are dark and show no promise of getting better, if I can still joyfully hold on to the hope that is found in Christ, find patience in the midst of trials, and cling to my savior and fight for His kingdom in prayer, then what else do I need?  To me, this verse encompasses all that the gospel is, and I want to make it the goal of my life to reflect the beauty that is written here.  

Maybe I'll try to unpack it more later.

"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer."

Thoughts on the Exodus

I've recently started reading through the book of Exodus. There's some good stuff there, friends, and definitely some stuff that I never saw before. When I was reading the first few chapters of Exodus, I started looking at them through the lens of race and ethnicity, and reading with those things in mind has radically altered my view of the book and of Moses, the "hero."

I've never really thought about Moses' racial/ethnic identity before, but the dude had a pretty complicated life.  He was born Hebrew, sent off in a basket by his mother, found by the Pharaoh's daughter, nursed by his birth mother, and then raised by an Egyptian.  He lived a life of privilege, but was bothered deeply by the mistreatment of "his people."  He tried to correct an injustice against a Hebrew by killing an Egyptian, was run out of Egypt by his racist adopted Grandfather (Pharaoh), and eventually settled down in Midian, where he married a Midianite woman, gave birth to mixed Hebrew/Midianite babies, and lived out most of his days as an alien in a foreign land (he actually named his first born Gershom, which sounds like Hebrew for "an alien there"... poor kid).  Ethnically Hebrew, raised as an Egyptian, yet ostracized by both communities.  He had to be confused about a few things.

And on top of all of this, he is asked by the God of the Hebrews to free "his people" from the hands of the Egyptians.  Talk about being put between a rock and hard place.  I'm assuming that Moses was more culturally Egyptian than Hebrew, could never fully identify with the Hebrew's experience of slavery, and had already encountered the resentment that many Hebrews felt towards him because of his life of privilege (see Exodus 2:11-14).  By the time he was 80, he had left both cultures behind and had created a new life for himself in a foreign country.  He was undoubtedly the least likely person that God would choose to fulfill this task.  But, in His usual fashion, God does the unexpected.  

There is one passage in particular that stood out to me in a new way, and that makes me think that this story might be about a little more than freeing Israel from bondage.  Picture this:  burning bush, there's a voice coming from it that just happens to know Moses' name, and it tells him to take off his shoes.  And this is what the voice says next:

"I am the God of YOUR FATHER, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob."  

God is clearly saying to him, "You are a Hebrew, you are a part of my people."  But Moses just doesn't get it.  As far as he's concerned, he doesn't have a "people."  And so his response when God tells him that he is going to rescue the Hebrews from the hands of Pharaoh:

"Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?"  

In essence, he's saying "Um... hello?!  I killed an Egyptian, the Hebrews hate me, my own Grandfather kicked me out of Egypt.  I never want to go back there again.  You've got to have the wrong guy."  And so God responds again, with a more subtle, but just as powerful, statement that solidifies Moses' identity as one of the people of God:

"I will be with you (singular you... God is promising this directly to Moses, the individual).  And this will be the sign to you that it is I who have sent you: When you have brought the people out of Egypt, you (plural) will worship God on this mountain."

"YOU will worship."  In this promise, God is claiming Moses as His own.  He is breaking through all of the clutter and confusion of Moses' past and telling him who he is.  "You are a Hebrew, Moses.  You are mine.  I see you, and I know you, and one day you will worship me on this mountain with your Hebrew brothers and sisters.  You are part of the people that I have chosen to reveal my glory, even to the ends of the earth.  You are my son, my love, my own."  

But Moses still doesn't get it.  He comes up with excuse after excuse, and God replies with promise after promise, until finally Moses breaks down and begs God to send someone else.  

Not me.  Please, anyone but me.

Finally, God loses his patience with Moses.  He has a purpose for him, He's calling Moses to have faith in who He is, He's trying to convince Him that He loves him and will be with him.  But Moses won't have it.  He is weighed down with insecurity, confusion, pain, loss.  Just like He is trying to free the Hebrews from the palpable chains of Pharaoh's oppression, God is trying to free Moses from his personal chains.  And when Moses won't let Him do that, God finally gets angry.  

Whenever I encounter a moment of God's anger, my initial reaction is negative.  I don't like to see God get angry.  That completely dashes the Sunday school picture of happy, smiling Jesus on a hill with a bunch of sheep.  But I think sometimes that image needs to be dashed.  God gets angry when His children are hurting.  Moses may not have experienced the slavery of the Hebrews, but he's been living in his own kind of bondage.  God was offering him an out, and he refuses to take it.  God so desperately wants to free him, but Moses is unwilling.  This time, the anger of God is, ironically, an expression of deep love for His child.  

All of us have chains of some kind.  We suffer under the weight of insecurity, confusion, pain, and loss, just as Moses did.  And although most of us who call ourselves believers can talk about the grace and love of God until we are blue in the face, most of us have failed to fully claim the promises of God for us.  He told us to take his yoke upon us, because it is easy and light.  He told the weary to come to Him, and He would give us rest.  He told us that He came that we might be free, that we might have life and have it to the full.  But how many of us are holding on to our chains?  How many times does God speak to us, calling us to find freedom through service to Him, and all we can say is "Not me.  Please, anyone but me."  

And I believe that angers the Lord.  Not because He is disappointed in us, but because He desperately wants us to be free.  But we're too stubborn to just let go of the chains.  He's angry because He loves us and wants more than anything for us to be free children of God, reflecting His glory to a broken world.