My Bed

So I pulled out my journal from Creative Writing last night and wrote for the first time since school's been out.. outside of blogging.. to try and start organizing my thoughts and hopefully clearing some of them out.  Tonight I did the same and as I started to write I gave myself a challenge to keep the same topic for an entire page.  I managed to accomplish this task, however when I got to the end of the page, I realized my entire exposition was an incredible analogy that was pulled out of my brain and put in front of my face at the exact moment that I needed a sign.

I'm going to share what I wrote, and then reflect on the power within what I thought might have only turned into a half ass-ed haiku.

My bed is like a palace.  It's my solstice and solitude.  It is so comfortable with soft sheets, 10 pillows, my baby friends, & the warm light of my step-mother's hand-me-down lamp, which brings out just the perfect shades in my TJ Maxx, almost too bright quilt.

It's extravagant, yet delicate and perfect.  I love to have all the space in my bed to myself.  I can line my pillows up on either side & be protected from the dark unknown, safe in the Land of Nod.

Even when I'm just sitting for a minute, I sit and am nearly immediately rejuvenated by the power of its comfort.  It lures me into its realm each night, and releases me each morning with the promise of just a short goodbye until it's time again for bed.  On those nights when I don't return, I yearn for the warm, safe embrace of my space, & when I do return, I am welcomed with open arms & I am always welcome like I had never even left.

So, what do you think?

Once I got to the part about the nights I miss my bed, and yearn for it's safety and comfort I realized this page is about God.  Okay, minus the 10 pillows and rainbow Cynthia Rowley quilt...

But for real, the past few days I have just been stewing in self pity and ashamedness for my distance from God.  I haven't been praying like I should be, or being the woman He made me to be.  Then all of a sudden, just like He will do, the Holy Spirit pulled these intimate thoughts about my full size mattress out of my head and into my journal where I read them to find that these are all qualities of my God, and that no matter how far I feel I have fallen, or no matter how many nights I have yearned for my Temperpedic pillow and 10-year-old Rabbie, I get brought right back to the reality that I had never really left.

Almost like the Parable of the Prodigal Son, which I heard again recently.  Like the Son, I have been sitting on the outskirts of my faith, thinking that if nothing else, maybe God will let me ride on the coattails of his miracles, not being a part of them, but still allowed to follow Him.  But also like the Son, I realize (though I have been told all along) that God wants to take us back and more when we come home to Him.  He doesn't want us slopping with the slaves, but instead, at His right-hand, safe, warm, and welcome.

I realize this sounds cliche, but I was so simply awestruck by the realization of this analogy that I had to share it.  They say the Holy Spirit is within us, and I have been a witness to this tonight, such a freeing feeling on this warm Tuesday night.

Goodnight, friends.

Sometimes we run

Well, we made it back safe and sound from Costa Rica with some incredible memories and unbelievable stories to last a lifetime.  Upon return I decided to spend a semi-relaxing week at home with my family before making the final move back to Butler for what will hopefully be my last semester of undergrad!  Our senior house is coming together piece by piece, and unfortunately the couch cushion pieces don't fit yet...  My list of necessities grows by the minute as I am learning how much it takes to fill a six bedroom house.

After a month long separation, I finally got to spend time with Emily on Saturday night, and we went to church at Common Ground on Sunday which for me was the first time in too long.  We all know how easy it is when you skip church one Sunday to make a little habit out of it, and especially after a 3-week hiatus in Central America, getting out of bed Sunday morning was difficult.

The worship Sunday morning was incredible.  That's one of my favorite things about Common Ground is the 15-20 high-energy worship session that starts off the service.  The current pastor isn't my favorite from Common Ground, but usually I still am able to take something meaningful away from his sermons.

Yesterday, Jeff spoke about a passage in Acts, and the idea of living to serve not to be served.  He stressed the importance of carrying out our actions without expecting something in return, and about how important it is to make your spiritual needs known because there is probably someone out there whose needs complement your own.

I've experienced the power of prayer before, specifically while I was living in The Netherlands, but as you know this is such an intriguing concept for me.  However, once you personally feel the power of prayer you can no longer deny the grace and power of God.  These past few weeks I just feel myself running in the wrong direction, but constantly being reminded that no matter how hard I resist, Jesus still has my heart on a leash.  Last night as I tossed and turned in my bed, preoccupied about jobs and money among other things I knew what I needed to do was pray, but I found myself unable to put words and thoughts together.  It was almost as if I felt that I didn't deserve to be praying for myself, and I just have been so distant and inconsistent in my conversations with God lately that I just couldn't pray, and that scares me.

So, I'm asking you to help me.  If you're reading this, I'm desperate for prayer and I also want to pray for you.  I need to see if I can help someone else, because I'm finding it impossible to help myself.  Please don't hesitate to reach out to me if you've something impending on your heart, because I love to listen and I want to pray for you!

Peace & blessings :)