tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84496733969494119532024-03-13T06:15:47.305-05:00Whatever Befallstill be my vision, O Ruler of all...Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-67782963637008206862013-04-03T22:33:00.000-05:002013-04-03T22:33:24.745-05:00Whatever befall me...<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The title of this blog is taken from the last lines of one
of my favorite hymns, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Be Thou My Vision</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its notes are somewhat Celtic and
haunting, its words a beautiful prayer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Be thou </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
my vision</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
my best thought</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
my wisdom</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
my true word</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
ever with me</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
in me dwelling</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
my battle shield</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
my dignity</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
my delight</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
my soul’s shelter</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
my high tower</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
my inheritance</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
first in my heart</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
my treasure</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
my <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">vision</b>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve always been drawn to things that are epic, things that
belong in stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Through
all the fantasy novels I’ve read, at times I find myself wishing that I
belonged to one of those people in the world of the books, with fantastical
stories whispered through generations. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heroes who cling to some strange hope in dark times and
prevail victorious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
Then I realize- I belong to something like that. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And one of the reasons that I love this song is because it
reminds me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
So my blog title is taken from last stanza-</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">High King of Heaven,
my victory won<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">May I reach Heaven’s
joys, O bright Heaven’s Sun!<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Heart of my own heart,
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">whatever befall, <o:p></o:p></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Still be my Vision</i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">, O
Ruler of all. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whatever may come to pass in my life, I want God to be my
vision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Forget rose-tinted
glasses—I want my world to be resplendently dyed with the character and will of
God, that I might know him and bring him glory. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Many things have come to pass this past year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The death of my father not least among
them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s been a year of processing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A year of loving my family more deeply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A year of mourning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A year of rewarding intellectual labor
and learning how to be a leader. <br />
<br />
It hasn’t been a year of writing. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Consistency was never my main goal when it came to sharing
my thoughts here. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Concepts tend to swirl about in my mind, dropping in and out
of precedence, slowly forming themselves into intricate but clear lines of
thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They simmer on the back
burner, gathering flavors until they are ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, after months of relaxed consideration, the right words
come and suddenly they must be written and I scramble for paper before they fly
away and I’m left with just a vague impression of the shape of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That is my purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>To intentionally think about the things that seem important, to do it
with Christ as my Vision, and then to share it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m hoping to share with you more often, friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God is bringing me to some pretty
amazing places in the time to come, both literally and figuratively, and I want
to tell you about it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The lovely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
heartwrenching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever
befall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With Him as my Vision. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->
Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-88799513588433243002012-04-04T15:02:00.003-05:002012-04-08T18:05:09.782-05:00Who I Want to Be<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">"To think that this is my twentieth birthday, and that I've left my teens behind me forever," said Anne, who was curled up on the hearth-rug with Rusty in her lap, to Aunt Jamesina who was reading in her pet chair. They were alone in the living room. Stella and Priscilla had gone to a committee meeting and Phil was upstairs adorning herself for a party. <o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> "I suppose you feel kind of, sorry" said Aunt Jamesina. "The teens are such a nice part of life. I'm glad I've never gone out of them myself." <o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">Anne laughed. "You never will, Aunty. You'll be eighteen when you should be a hundred. Yes, I'm sorry, and a little dissatisfied as well. Miss Stacy told me long ago that by the time I was twenty my character would be formed, for good or evil. I don't feel that it's what it should be. It's full of flaws." </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">"So's everybody's," said Aunt Jamesina cheerfully. "Mine's cracked in a hundred places. Your Miss Stacy likely meant that when you are twenty your character would have got its permanent bent in one direction or 'tother, and would go on developing in that line. Don't worry over it, Anne. Do your duty by God and your neighbor and yourself, and have a good time. That's my philosophy and it's always worked pretty well.”</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>-Anne of the Island </span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">by Lucy Maude Montgomery </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">I’ve been thinking about this lately, particularly since I myself turned twenty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Am I who I want to be?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Who I feel I should be? <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">Sometimes there are moments when it hits me that in some small way I’m living a life I’ve dreamed about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">Maybe it’s when I’m practicing phonetics or signing up for classes with names like “Grammatical Analysis”, because when I was younger I used to read books by people like Michael Crichton and Ted Dekker and Madeleine L’Engle and see characters called very specific things like “paleobotanists” and “biochemists” and “marine biologists”, not because of their jobs but because of what they <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">know</i>, who they <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">are</i>. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’d dream of being that too, being an expert at something, being the sort of person that people would call in when they had a certain sort of problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I didn’t think it would ever be possible, because I’m no scientist and while I was good at math it wasn’t something I wanted to make a career out of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So being sort of on my way to being a “linguist” gives me some deep inner satisfaction. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">Or perhaps it’s when I’m in yoga pants with my hair pulled up, doing laundry at midnight and eating yogurt out of a coffee mug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Just because being that girl always seemed fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It feels like college. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">Maybe it’s when I’m scrunching the curly hair I wished I had for years before I started perming it, or when I’m learning to teach English and remembering all the people who ever came up to me after a VBS lesson or a study hall or a mission trip report-back and told me that I should be a teacher someday, or when I’m walking into chapel and remembering how much I wanted to come to Moody and how anxiously I awaited that acceptance letter. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">But then I think about my prayer life, my devotional life, my inner thought life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And then I’m not always so sure that I’m who I want to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I remember my junior year of high school, when I was so consistent in the Word and so ardently in love with my God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then I was so convinced that I would never, ever give up reading my several chapters per day, because I was so utterly convinced that it was truly what sustained me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I understood how desperately I needed it, and I sincerely loved it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Where did that go?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was a time when I was starting to grasp what it really means to pray without ceasing, but somehow that understanding slipped through my fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I know there are mountains and valleys in everyone’s life, but—I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">understood</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What happened? </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">So I thank Jesus for the process of sanctification, for His promise to be the same even when I fluctuate, for the assurance that my sin is cast far from me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">And I take heart in realizing that I do care about these things—that even if I am not that person, I still <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">want </i>to be. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Arial"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Arial"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-88961599584885448892012-02-11T20:09:00.002-06:002012-02-11T20:13:36.132-06:00Headphones<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Tonight I am studying in the library for the second time in my college career.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">(Okay, well, right now I’m writing a blog post. But before and after this, I’m studying.)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As a result, I am also listening to music using earbuds for the first time in who knows how long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Headphones used to be a staple of my school mornings, essential for drowning out the annoying and profane soundtrack provided by the kids on a public school bus ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But now that I’m in college there are coffee shops with the radio on and laptops and my roommate’s awesome speakers that practically equip our dorm with surround sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So I haven’t used my earbuds in forever. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’d forgotten how much more intimate it is this way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>How the music echoes in your mind and grates against your bones and hums through your blood and caresses your skin from the inside out. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s a totally different experience. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And maybe this is stretching it a bit, but it makes me think of the way I feel when it’s the first time in a long time that I’ve read the Bible for myself and on my own and not for school or during a sermon. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s more intimate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It becomes part of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When you’re discovering it for yourself it steeps into the corners of your soul the way it simply can’t when all you’re doing is hearing it in the open air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And when the Word of God is part of you, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">things change. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-77802002370331953662012-01-21T09:56:00.001-06:002012-02-11T20:15:01.260-06:00Lament<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">How do you respond to the evils of this world?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When corruption is everywhere, do you plug your ears and cover your eyes, sing a happy song and hide in the bubble where it’s safe?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When you’re tired or feeling ill or inadequate or anxious or sad, do you put on a cheerful mask and fake it till you feel it, or at least until you’re numb and good at pretending?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When Dad has cancer, do you try to stay in crisis mode forever, where you can run on adrenaline and just do what you have to? And focus on things like dishes and logistics and facts?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But what happens when crisis mode inevitably ends and you realize that this is life now? </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When a man just three years older than you is abruptly and coldly shot and killed just down the street, do you lock yourself in your dorm room and throw yourself into tasks to avoid the creeping fear? And what <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">do</i> you tell your mother?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When the world around you seems to be falling apart, and every time you turn around another friend or classmate has some new emergency or tragedy in their life, and yours seems so fragile… what do you do?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It seems to me that we can’t afford not to feel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Numbness scares me just as much as pain does. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jesus said that in this world we will have troubles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But He also said that He will be with us, forever and ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And He said that he is preparing a place for us… a place that will have no tears, no pain, no sorrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So for now- until we arrive in that blessed place- we <i>must</i> carry on, live boldly, be light and salt and hands and feet. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">“Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that both calamities and good things come? … But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. “ Lamentations 3:38, 21-23</span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-68798594766417678912011-09-20T20:34:00.002-05:002011-09-20T20:37:43.376-05:00Pondering<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s hard to be introspective, sometimes. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sometimes my mind seems to overflow with thoughts and words and feelings and concepts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They swirl in an endless fog, a thick one full of little intensely colored sparks that zap my consciousness one after another before zooming away into the mist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sensory overload combined with numbness. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>An odd and disconcerting thing. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That’s when I get behind on my journaling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That’s when new blog posts don’t appear for two months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Because that sort of mental environment makes me give up on trying to take a snapshot of any one thing and really <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">look at it</i></b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Life is too complex; I get caught up in living the big picture and feel exhausted by the mere thought of taking the time and energy to contemplate the details. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But maybe that’s when I most need to take a snapshot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To take a good hard look at one little facet of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To examine its intricacies. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">To fully feel what it has to offer- the delight of its joys, and maybe the sharpness of its pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Because pain can be refining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Because experiencing joy in life brings glory to the God who created it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To gain perspective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To see the beauty in the chaos. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">To not understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To practice trusting the Lord. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">To learn. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">To see. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">To think. To think heavily. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Did you ever think about the fact that the word “ponder” carries with it the connotation of heaviness?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I didn’t, until my choir conductor talked about it at the beginning of this year. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ponderings are not light, airy, shallow, superficial.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They are deep and real and profound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And I usually can’t feel entirely settled about anything that tugs at my mind until I’ve really thought through it- pondered it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In choir, we talked about Psalm 101:2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It says, “I will ponder the ways of the blameless”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The danger in the times I mentioned is this: if I don’t even want to think about my own ways, how much harder will it be to ponder the ways of God?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">desire</i> to ponder the ways of God?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yeah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No tidy conclusion to this train of thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Lord is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Maybe I’ll just… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">really</i> think about that for a minute. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-48758482774959932402011-07-29T20:16:00.002-05:002011-07-29T20:28:08.061-05:00Five-Minute Friday: Still<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Helvetica, serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"></span></span></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Helvetica, serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:130%;"><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><img src="webkit-fake-url://5AD1CD70-7757-4FA9-8C7C-EC427C155D2C/5-minute-friday-1.jpg" alt="5-minute-friday-1.jpg" /></p></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">GO.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">One of the simplest lessons that I have learned in the past year is the importance of rest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m good at pushing myself, at working hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m also good at resting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But I’m not very good at balancing the two. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My tendancy is to go, and go, and keep going until I’ve reached some stopping place, at which point I collapse and indulge in doing absolutely nothing for as long as possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then I start all over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Usually the cycle is a month or two long, with anywhere from a weekend (after a finishing a paper) to two weeks (Christmas break) in between. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In a way, this way of living brings me satisfaction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I feel accomplished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But it also makes me <span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">bone-tired</span>, a tired that accumulates throughout the year, because binge-resting does not really help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">What I need is <span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">consistancy</span>. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I went on my first Women’s Concert Choir tours this year at Moody.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>During these tours, my director persevered in ensuring that we all had a certain amount of time each day that was designated as “quiet time”, not only to conserve our voices but to reenergize and focus us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Since then, I’ve discovered that a little “me time” set aside each day does wonders for my energy, motivation, and emotional stability.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It must be <span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">separate from my God time</span> (which is, of course, even more essential), and <span style="font-size:14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">it is not nap time</span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Instead, I might read a book, crochet a little, or watch an episode of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Psych</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I do <span style="font-size:14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">something I enjoy</span>, something that takes my mind off of whatever is stressing me, something that is <span style="font-size: 14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">not essential</span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I do it alone. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I do it consistantly, regardless of how much work remains to be done that day,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>because the time is moderated—no more than an hour—and when I am not so frazzled the procrastination dwindles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I still work hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But I have learned to pause occasionally, and <span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">be still. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">STOP. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-86877616648971022982011-07-18T23:06:00.004-05:002011-07-18T23:27:54.433-05:001,000 Words<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qvD-v8rSVO8/TiUDb1oXByI/AAAAAAAAABQ/Zn1_cpgZgpo/s1600/DSCN5121.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qvD-v8rSVO8/TiUDb1oXByI/AAAAAAAAABQ/Zn1_cpgZgpo/s400/DSCN5121.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630910685884385058" /></a><br /><br />The Sea of Galilee. <br /><br />We were on a boat. <br /><br />We'd been dancing- the Hava Nagila and other folk dances, twirling and laughing and holding hands and going in circles.<br /><br />As we caught our breaths, they told us that the water is never that calm. <br /><br />But I could think of at least one other time that it was. <span style="font-style:italic;">Peace. Be still. </span><br /><br />And I could think of another group of people who crossed from one side of that Sea to the other. <br /><br />And my breath was gone again, for a different reason. <br /><br /><br /><br />(I have a feeling that many of my Israel moments will come out in this form…)Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-85491367043155563142011-07-11T11:12:00.007-05:002011-07-18T23:42:09.529-05:001,000 Words<span style="font-style:italic;">I'm borrowing ideas from Gretchen over at The Little Pink House again. She's been doing 1,000 Words posts on Mondays for quite some time and I love it!</span><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2lZ2hX7Lxh0/Thtv4w94OeI/AAAAAAAAABI/w6idqgWfZio/s1600/DSCN5890.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2lZ2hX7Lxh0/Thtv4w94OeI/AAAAAAAAABI/w6idqgWfZio/s320/DSCN5890.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628215180337363426" /></a><br /><br /><br />I finished the blanket I've been crocheting since Christmas!Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-84886516771075500152011-07-08T22:49:00.006-05:002011-07-18T23:36:27.643-05:00Five-Minute Friday: Grateful<center><a href="http://thegypsymama.com/category/five-minute-friday/"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/_lCeOMfY0_fQ/TWly2m-jN_I/AAAAAAAAFEY/k8HJ__cvkws/s200/5%20minute%20friday.jpg" /></a></center><br /><br />GO:<br /><br />I’m grateful for American life.<br /><br />There’s a good chance that I’ll spend a large percentage of my lifetime somewhere else. Where I’ll live instead depends on what exactly my ministry call turns out to be (I’m studying for Bible translation as well as ESL teaching). But no matter what, it’ll probably be a different culture.<br /><br />So in case I end up in a jungle, I’m grateful today for the four seasons of northwest Indiana, for the varied food and the benign bugs, for the sturdy house and air conditioning and readily available medical care.<br /><br />In case I end up in a non-English speaking country, I’m grateful today for the time I have in a place where everyone communicates in my heart language.<br /><br />In case I end up in a place with very few Christians, I’m grateful today for the enormous network of believers who love and support me from the same campus or town.<br /><br />In case I end up halfway ‘round the world, I’m grateful today for my mother’s hugs and the chance to watch a movie with my sisters late at night and the frequency of sleepovers with good friends.<br /><br />I’m grateful for all the things I have right now that I might someday miss. But mostly I’m grateful that I can trust in God’s sovereignty, rest in His plan for my life, and live with joy and“strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow”. <br /><br />STOP.Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-50518135970785559442011-07-01T17:38:00.006-05:002011-07-18T23:29:07.960-05:00Five-Minute Friday: Welcome<span style="font-style:italic;">It's been a while. I've been too busy living life to write about it- but there are plenty of ideas floating around in my mind. Give me a bit, they'll show up here eventually. Meanwhile, I've decided to join in on The Gypsy Mama's Five Minute Fridays, which I was first exposed to on Gretchen's "Little Pink House" blog (there's a link on the side of mine to hers). Each week she gives a prompt, and you write for five minutes and post it. So here goes! </span><br /><br /><center><a href="http://thegypsymama.com/category/five-minute-friday/"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/_lCeOMfY0_fQ/TWly2m-jN_I/AAAAAAAAFEY/k8HJ__cvkws/s200/5%20minute%20friday.jpg"/></a></center><br /><br />I’ve always been welcomed to new places, but this year I’ve been learning about the special joys of being welcomed home. <br /><br />Sometimes it’s a good, home-cooked meal from my mom, who knows that dining hall fare is never as good as something from our kitchen. A happy dance in the kitchen with my sister. A hug from my dad. Those are the intentional welcomes.<br /><br />Then there are the things that just are—things that scream, “You’re home!” The way my house smells (you know how every house has a unique scent?). The familiar feel of my bed. The sound of my dad making bad jokes, my dog skittering across the hardwood floor, the train whistle blowing at night. <br /><br />But my favorite welcome? When it’s late at night, and my parents have gone to bed, and I’m in my room. Maybe reading, or skyping someone, or journaling. At some point there’s a soft knock on my door, and one of my sisters creeps in and sits on the bed with me. She tells a story about something that’s happened, plopping her legs across mine. Soon the other one has joined us, bringing her laptop or her homework. And we spend the evening that way, all doing our own thing, but together and there’s usually a lot of laugher. Because we’ve grown up, we’re not the little squabbling girls we used to be. The youngest is about to turn sixteen. We’re (mostly) friends now. And they’re glad I’m home. <br /><br />I love college. I’ve started to refer to it as “home”, too, but there’s just nothing like returning to my family and the place where I grew up.Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-66387004546783671272011-05-15T12:40:00.002-05:002011-07-18T23:31:23.667-05:00Thoughts on 1 Samuel 8When my Government teacher in high school was explaining the existence of government, he used an interesting example: the Israelites in Canaan. <br /><br />People have two inherent conflicting desires, desires that are so strong they are almost needs. One is the desire for independence. The other is the desire for community. <br /><br />As I said before, those two desires are intrinsically at odds—but God had a plan for Israel that would allow for both. He outlined exactly how to live so that they could exist as free, independent people in a well-functioning community. He gave them the Law. <br /><br />If Israel had been capable of following the Law to the letter, it would have worked perfectly. Even as sinful people, with the institution of the judges it worked pretty well. <br /><br />But they weren’t content. They asked for a king, so that they would be like all of the other nations. To protect them, to bring them together to fight battles, to make them prosper. And check out Samuel’s response:<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">“This is what the king who reigns over you will do: He will take your sons and make them serve… He will take your daughters to be performers and cooks and bakers…He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves.”</span><br /><br />He knows that the price of the benefits that a king provides is a great loss of independence and freedom. God’s balance will be upset. But the people don’t care, of course. So they get a king, and many more kings after that, and out of a good fifty kings in Israel and Judah only nine or ten turn out to be considered “good”. <br /><br />I just thought all of this was really interesting. God knows the desires of our hearts, and he knows how to respond to them. He knows us and our tendencies and natures better than we ever could know ourselves.Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-47571213847200969952011-05-14T13:35:00.002-05:002011-07-18T23:30:04.295-05:00Moments and SensationsSome days, my senses seem to play a larger role in life than usual. Things feel fragmented and instead of people and events, what stands out in my mind are emotions, scents, temperatures, color schemes. <br /><br />Glasses fogged with raindrops blur the world and make everything insubstantial. Somehow they make me feel as though I look blurred and insubstantial to the rest of the world, too, until I wipe them off. <br /><br />Juggling a McDonald’s caramel latte (better than Starbucks’, I’ve decided), a FedEx package, an ID and door key, a Walgreens bag, and a purse while holding open the Houghton door with my foot for a dad with a dolly loaded with his daughter’s things. It’s move-out day. Chaos. <br /><br />Chill air, misty raindrops- wind and water are the elements of the day. Contrast: in three-ish days I will be under the Israeli sun. <br /><br />Hugs. Hard ones. Prolonged. These are goodbye hugs— some for a few weeks, some for three months, some much longer. These are emotion-filled and bittersweet. And yet it hasn’t quite sunk in that I won’t be seeing all of them tomorrow.<br /><br />Grey and white and greenish and black. Clouds, empty dorm room walls, my rain jacket, graduation gowns. Those are the colors of today. <br /><br />Echoes. Calls of “Goodbye!” echo through the halls. The echo of the microphone through the large Moody Church sanctuary as the speaker gave the commencement address. The echo of my voice when I sing (as I incessently do) in my nearly-empty dorm room. <br /><br />A musty smell. A rainy smell. Nail polish remover. Cleaning spray. The fast food everyone’s brought back for lunch since the dining hall is closed. <br /><br />These are some of today’s moments and sensations.Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-45540245730511568512011-05-10T20:10:00.003-05:002011-07-18T23:36:41.076-05:00100 DaysYou know that pattern of conversation where you say, “I just can’t wait for ____!!!!” and someone decides to insert wisdom into your life by saying something along the lines of, “Well, don’t wish away the time till it gets here. You’ll end up wishing away your whole life if you’re not careful. The journey is sometimes the best part” ?<br /><br />Well, it’s gotten to the point in the year where everything is about “next year”. The ways our floors will change. The things we’ll do differently. The classes. The many different sorts of relationships that have to be put on pause for now but will be resumed in the fall. <br /><br />There are exactly 100 days until the day I have to be back on campus for choir. 100 days until that much-anticipated “next year”.<br /><br />What will I do with that 100 days? <br /><br />I won’t wish them away. In the next 100 days, I will learn some things. I will grow a bit. I will accomplish some tasks, and have some fun, and go through some bad days. I’ll earn some money, and deepen friendships, and move on from some things. <span style="font-weight:bold;">I’ll live. </span><br /><br />And on August 19th I will still be me, but a little different. <br /><br />As I was reminded<span style="font-style:italic;"> last</span> August by a very wise lady, “Don’t spend your life waiting to live it”.Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-41620835846206074902011-05-03T11:30:00.002-05:002011-07-18T23:31:08.865-05:00Going HomeI think I’ve always tended to subconsciously think of going to heaven as going any other new place—it may be wonderful and I may come to love it in time, but it will be an adjustment. It’ll take a while to become home, sort of how Moody did. <br /><br />Then this morning in chapel, we sang “How Great Thou Art”. As I sang, “When He shall come with shouts of acclamation and take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!” I thought about it. We are not of this world, but that’s not an easy mindset to get into. Will I really, truly be able to be full of nothing but joy when I’m on my way to heaven? After all, my coming to Moody was joyful, but I still had some sadness at leaving home, and that was a natural and good thing, wasn’t it?<br /><br />Then I was reminded of two things. <br /><br />First, a line in the movie <span style="font-style:italic;">Sleepless in Seattle</span>, which I watched last night. It’s really cheesy, but it works. Tom Hanks’s character is describing what was special about his late wife, and he says, “I knew it the very first time I touched her. <span style="font-weight:bold;">It was like coming home… only to no home I’d ever been before.</span> I was just taking her hand to help her out of the car and I knew.” <br /><br />Second, a scene from <span style="font-style:italic;">Anne of the Island</span>, the third book in the Anne of Green Gables series. Anne and her friend Ruby are discussing death and heaven, and Ruby says, “I think… and I get so homesick… and frightened. Heaven must be very beautiful, of course, the Bible says so—but Anne, <span style="font-style:italic;">it won’t be what I’m used to.</span>” <br /><br />Here is Anne’s resolve as she thinks it over later that night:<br />“When she came to the end of one life it must not be to face the next with the shrinking terror of something wholly different -- something for which accustomed thought and ideal and aspiration had unfitted her. The little things of life, sweet and excellent in their place, must not be the things lived for; the highest must be sought and followed; <span style="font-weight:bold;">the life of heaven must be begun here on earth. </span>“<br /><br />So there, I think, is my answer. Seeking to begin the life of heaven while here on the earth, and trusting God to manage the rest. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this.” </span> <br /> <span style="font-style:italic;"> --The Chronicles of Narnia: The Last Battle</span>Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-84205760432243871512011-05-01T17:50:00.006-05:002011-07-18T23:38:05.036-05:00Blog it. But live it first.<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px; font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:11px;"><div>
<br /></div>"…the real meat of life, the stuff that really matters, the part that makes it beautiful to be human–well, none of that stuff has a USB port. You can’t really Twitter the music of a child’s laugh, and no Facebook page will replace the beauty of taking a casserole to a sick friend.
<br />
<br />So blog life, Twitter it, IM it, podcast it…and do it<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "> well.
<br />
<br />But first?
<br />
<br />Live it."
<br />
<br />-A blogger named Shannon</span></span><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-size:11px;">
<br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-size:11px;">
<br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-size:11px;">I think that pretty much speaks for itself. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-size:11px;">
<br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-size:11px;">Real life is beautiful. There's nothing wrong with capturing and sharing what you can. I think that's beautiful, too, and I want to do more of it. But let's not forget to place LIVING life at higher value than creating an online representation of it. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-size:11px;">
<br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-size:11px;">
<br /></span></span></div></div>
<br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br /> var _gaq = _gaq || [];<br /> _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-23071171-1']);<br /> _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']);<br /><br /> (function() {<br /> var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true;<br /> ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js';<br /> var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s);<br /> })();<br /><br /></script>Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-9445862057345672722011-04-24T18:41:00.005-05:002011-07-18T23:38:31.331-05:00EnoughI attended a Seder dinner here at Moody last week. I'm so glad I did- I feel like I understand the Lord's Supper and of course the Passover so much better now. So many things about it were just very cool. There's one part I keep thinking about, though. <div><br /></div><div>There's a word in Hebrew, "dayenu" (basically pronounced "die-AY-new"), that means "It would have been enough". In this section, the host of the Seder reads a series of phrases, and after each one everyone else repeats, "Dayenu!"</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>If He had only rescued us from Egypt, but had not punished the Egyptians,</b></div><div><br /></div><div><i>(It would have been enough.)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><b>If He had only punished the Egyptians, but had not destroyed their gods,</b></div><div><br /></div><div><i>(It would have been enough.)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><b>If He had only destroyed their gods, but had not slain their firstborn</b>,</div><div><br /></div><div><i>(It would have been enough.)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><br /></div><div>And so on. For a Messianic Seder it goes all the way to:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>If He had only given us eternal life, but had not given us abundant life,</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><i>(It would have been enough.)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><b>If He had only given us abundant life, but had not called us to serve Him,</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><i>(It would have been enough.)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><b>If He had only called us to serve Him, but had not indwelt us with His Spirit,</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><i>(It would have been enough.)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><b>If He had only indwelt us with His Spirit, but had not promised us rewards,</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><i>(It would have been enough.)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Now here's my favorite part. The last line. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Every time it seems the Lord has done enough for us, He always does more. </b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>All I can say is, Amen. </div><div><i><br /></i></div>Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-48210256519991003842011-04-18T17:57:00.003-05:002011-07-18T23:33:15.343-05:00Stress and PhilosophyI've been wound pretty tightly lately. Nothing particularly worth mentioning- I'm just a college student, and there are always times when the various stressors of life seem to meet up and talk you over, and decide to all attack at once. I've had lots to do, lots to think over, and <i>not</i> lots of sleep. <div><br /></div><div>That all changed pretty quickly. Not that there aren't still things to think over. But the homework stress has gone down tremendously with the turning in of a paper this morning, the opportunity for sleep over the next week looks promising, and I'm going home for Easter weekend in three days. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's funny. You would expect that when everything that's been stressing you out suddenly disappears, you'd feel light and relaxed. But I don't. </div><div><br /></div><div>Instead, I feel similar to the way you feel when you've run a lot- say a mile, for those of you who (like me) are not runners. You push yourself to keep going for that mile mark without walking, and you do it! Your immediate instinct is to stop, or to instantly slow to a walk. You're done. You've accomplished what you're trying to do. But it doesn't work that way. If you just stop like that, your insides seize up and breathing isn't fun and your entire body is just out of rhythm. It wants to keep running. You have to slow down gradually. </div><div><br /></div><div>I guess life is like that, too. When you just stop, you seize up and just feel kind of twisted and ill inside. You want to keep stressing over something. I'm not sure what the "life" parallel is to slowing down gradually. But for now, I'm going to take a nap. </div><div><br /></div><div>A final thought: In my philosophy class today we talked about Friedrich Nietzsche. He's the guy who said "God is dead. Man has killed him." He's basically of the opinion that Christianity destroys everything. And unfortunately, a lot of his philosophy makes sense. When someone mentioned that at the end of the lecture, my professor said something that really resonated with me. He said that we don't necessarily have to deny everything that pagan philosophers said. Often their observations about the world and humanity are correct. But we don't have a God who is bound by the systems of the world. He came lowly and contrite, and He overcame anyway. So even though these people are trying to make God obsolete or powerless or nonexistent… all they really do is give us more reasons to praise Him.</div><div><br /></div><div>Very cool.</div><div><br /></div><div>Time to sleep now. </div>Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-37275028974681318932011-04-14T11:10:00.002-05:002011-07-18T23:34:07.253-05:00The Power of the Spoken Word<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Jun 29, 2010.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am standing in a room with 6,000 believers at an EFCA national youth conference, and I am tired both physically and emotionally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I feel cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am enjoying myself, but simply not able to connect on an emotional level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then as a part of the worship service, the man on stage asks us to recite together what the people in Revelation say to praise God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Thousands of voices mumble in sync.</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts; the whole earth is filled with His glory.</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">“Louder,” says the man.</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts! The whole earth is filled with His glory!</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">“Louder!”</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Holy, holy, <u>holy </u>is the Lord God of hosts!!! The <u>whole </u>earth is<u> filled</u> with His glory!!!</i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">This time he doesn’t need to tell us to be louder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Something in my heart has ruptured, and although ninety seconds ago I was about as passionate as a stone, no more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Suddenly I am overwhelmed, and large, hot tears are streaming down my face, which is tilted towards the ceiling, my arms outstretched though I do not remember consciously raising them.</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">HOLY, <u>HOLY</u>, </i></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><u><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">HOLY</span></u></i></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;"> </span>IS THE LORD, GOD OF HOSTS- THE <u>WHOLE EARTH IS FILLED WITH HIS GLORY!!!!!</u></i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">~*~<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There is something about proclaiming <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">aloud</b> the truth of who God is that makes Him seem more real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The spoken word is laced with power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It brings density and glory to my vision of Him, not seen and yet perceived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">He has <u>weight</u></b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And I am moved. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That night last June is a perfect example- but then, so are the few minutes I spent praying with some brothers at the beginning of New Testament Survey class this morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As we prayed over an ill professor and the school’s financial situation, our were filled with phrases of praise and truth, thanking God for what He has done and declaring Him to be loving, just, and powerful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And though we were sleepy and school-minded, those words are powerful and engaging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">~*~</p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">I am on spring tour with the Women’s Concert Choir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In between songs, girls step up to the microphone to recite verses of scripture from memory- from the heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The words come to life in a way they never have before, and when I read the verses for myself I hear their voices ringing in my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Rachel says, “But I will heal them,”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>and I shiver, and my arms are all over in goosebumps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sarah says, “It is done! I am the Alpha and Omega!” and I cannot help but grin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kirsten says, “Cast down, but <u>not</u> destroyed.” and I feel strengthened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">~*~</p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There is something about hearing scripture recited- not read impersonally and stumblingly, but vocalized from the hidden places of the heart where it has been stored and meditated on- that brings is to life and sharpens it to pierce the very soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It reminds me of reading Shakespeare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On the page it is like a puzzle, requiring thought to work through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a mental exercise, filled with themes and figures of speech, appreciated for it’s inherent genius but not on an emotional level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But oh, the difference when it is performed!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On stage or screen, from memory with emotion and body language, every obscure metaphor and passionate speech comes to life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I have found scripture to be the same way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On the page, scripture is full of meaning and truth and power and goodness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But recited, it is full of Meaning and Truth and Power and Goodness. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">~*~</p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">who was conceived by the Holy Spirit;<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">born of the virgin Mary;<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">suffered under Pontius Pilate;<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">was crucified, dead, and buried. <o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">The third day He rose again from the dead. <o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">He ascended into heaven, and sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty.<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">From thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead.<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">I believe in the Holy Spirit<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>the holy catholic Church<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">the communion of saints<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>the forgiveness of sins<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>the resurrection of the body<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>and the life everlasting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Amen. <o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">The Apostle’s Creed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A large part of my life this semester.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The end to every choir concert; the beginning to every Christianity and Western Culture I class each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 11:00 am. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">~*~<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There is something about together declaring belief and hope in the Most High God that unites a body, <u>in</u> Christ and <u>to</u> Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is solidifying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It strengthens one’s concept of what exactly is meant by “I believe”, by sheer repetition and vocabulary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sitting in chapel as I think about this (as these thoughts are being composed on the back of a to-do list), if I close my eyes I am very aware of the presence of the people on either side of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They are solid, dense, each a thick and heavy mass of connotation and identity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Why, then, is my perception of the presence of God more akin to a vague mist, everywhere but wispy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">God should be the densest, the most REAL. <o:p></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><o:p> </o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Creeds and rituals may sound “too Catholic”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But if they bring a proper density to my perception of God Almighty, they are more than worth my time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Because there is power in the spoken word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-20186968704685934912011-04-06T23:13:00.005-05:002011-07-18T23:34:29.594-05:00Beautiful Diversity<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">The sermon series at my church in Chicago right now is “The Next 10”, a look at what we want our piece of the Body to become over the next ten years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One week in particular got me really excited (ask my roommate- she had to listen to me talk about it to everyone for the next few days):<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“By God’s Grace We Aim to Be a Diverse but Unified Church.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The actual sermon can be heard here (<a href="http://www.edgebapt.com/media.php?pageID=5">http://www.edgebapt.com/media.php?pageID=5</a>) but I’m going to use my notes (which ended up in paragraphs rather than in bullets) to recount what I got so excited about.</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is a Biblical history of diversity. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Old Testament.</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the beginning, God created one people group: united in language, descent, culture, and purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To be one and fill the earth with that one-ness, reflecting God’s image… </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">And God blessed them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>(Genesis 1)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">… but the Fall tarnished that purpose.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">… and to dust you shall return… (Genesis 3)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Instead of scattering and filling the earth, man came together to avoid being dispersed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Instead of seeking God’s glory, they sought their own. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So God confused their language. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">And from there the Lord dispersed them over the face of all the earth. (Genesis 11)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This was the beginning of the nations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a judgment… but it was also a grace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>God called one man, Abram, to make His own great, blessed nation- and to bear the seed that will bless the world. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you… and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed. (Genesis 12)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For Israel, God created a bit of an incubator in the midst of a diverse and sinful world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He sanctified them, set them apart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A nation by definition requires a people, a land, and a law.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So He gave them, His people, a Land and a Law.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">You shall therefore keep all my statutes and all my rules and do them, that the land where I am bringing you to live may not vomit you out… I am the Lord your God, who has separated you from the peoples. (Leviticus 20)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">All of this is done to one day draw back the rest of the earth. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">And many nations shall join themselves to the Lord in that day, and shall be My people… (Zechariah 2)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">New Testament. <o:p></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><o:p> </o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Finally, Jesus arrived! The seed through which all the world would be blessed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>(John 3)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">God calls all the world to repent and believe in the gospel. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">…a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in Him… (Ephesians 1)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jesus said that the gospel will be proclaimed in all nations and exhorts His disciples to go and make <u>more</u> disciples in all the earth <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">(Matthew 28; Acts 1)</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Holy Spirit soon followed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At His advent the disciples proclaimed God, each of their listeners hearing in his own language.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>a <u>monumental</u> event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This is the first time since Babel that the people have been together, united by space <u>and</u> understanding. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Parthians and Medes and Elamites and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea, and Cappadocia, Pontus, and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt, and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabians—we hear them telling in our own tongues the mighty works of God. (Acts 2)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Peter had his visions about eating unclean animals, representing the new cleanliness of the Gentiles, and protested at first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But God said, “Ohhhhh no—things have changed—what I call clean is <u>clean!</u>” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">(Acts 10)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So Peter began to reach out to the Gentiles. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">God even sent an angel to prepare them for his coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The Jews had been set apart, guarded by the Law, but now things are different. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">There is no longer Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And what will happen in the end? What does all of this come to? </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A multitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>From every tribe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Every tongue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Every nation. All giving praise to “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><u>our </u>God” –<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>(Revelation 7)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">—inheriting the New Jerusalem, dwelling with God, in unity, just like the original.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Just like in the Garden… but, dare I say, better. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">And the city has no need of a sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of the Lord gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>By its light the nations will walk… (Revelation 21)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">God’s plan included diversity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It will be even better at the end because of the multi-everything-hodge-podge of people who had NOTHING in common and now have EVERYTHING in common, a forever marker of God’s grace and His plan to bring His people to Him. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think it’s beautiful. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <!--EndFragment-->Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-70782871995095912932011-04-03T22:12:00.003-05:002011-07-18T23:34:48.655-05:00Still, Small WindSitting in a hammock on the Houghton roof at 9:00 on the first really warm evening of the spring, looking out over the city with pen in hand and journal on my lap, my bare feet brushing the cool stone tiles and a gentle breeze wrapping its way around me.... it's easy to believe, in such moments, that God was in a still, small wind. <div><br /></div><div>More blogs to come when I have time. I have lots scribbled on various bits of paper, waiting to be polished and typed. </div>Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-25163099810350361372011-03-08T01:37:00.003-06:002011-07-18T23:35:18.629-05:00The Little Things<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><i>I love….</i></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">1) Packing for trips</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">2) Singing Broadway in the stairwells</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">3) Pictures of people I love</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">4) Waking up to my roommate’s hairdryer </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">5) Random late-night chats in the kitchen with a certain former roommate over cinnamon toast and grapefruit</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">6) Sweaters with too-long sleeves</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">7) Rainymood.com</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">8) Folding hot laundry straight from the dryer</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">9) The clock on our wall that never keeps the correct time but always ticks away soothingly</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">10) Bamboo & lotus hand lotion that smells like plants and therefore reminds me of summer.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">11) Words like “therefore” and “indubitably” and “whence” </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">12) Homemade things</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">13) Looking at other peoples’ handwriting</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">14) Beginning a new journal, and wondering what will be written on the hitherto empty pages</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">15) Words like “hitherto”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">16) When people call me “Meg”, naturally, without meaning to or thinking about it</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">17) People in my life that remind me about God’s grace, goodness, and power</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">18) Aromas that mentally drag me back in time</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">19) Making lists. And crossing off list items, if they’re to-do lists.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">20) The church I attend here in the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A blog to follow concerning last week’s sermon, hopefully within the next few days.</p> <!--EndFragment-->Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-36106014039314520282011-02-11T19:22:00.006-06:002011-07-18T23:36:13.582-05:00Elevation<div><div>This week in one of my classes, a fellow student said something that struck me. It was along the lines of "The more we humble ourselves, the more glorious God appears to us." It got me thinking.<div><br /></div><div>Two and a half years ago, my family went on a summer vacation "out West". My favorite part was the Grand Teton National Park.</div><div><br /></div><div>Before that trip, the only mountains I'd ever seen were the Smokies down in Tennessee.</div></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PbfvF5_qOgc/TVXiZbstUqI/AAAAAAAAAAk/6dRouHryVQ4/s1600/smokies.jpg" style="text-decoration: none; " onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PbfvF5_qOgc/TVXiZbstUqI/AAAAAAAAAAk/6dRouHryVQ4/s320/smokies.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572609040500740770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 149px; " /></a><div>After that trip, I was reluctant even to call the Smokies "mountains". I prefer "large hills".</div><div><br /></div><div>Since that trip, I have seen other mountains. But the Tetons remain the most awe-inspiring range I have ever seen.</div><div><br /></div><div>Why? The answer is simple.</div><div><br /></div><div>Elevation.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the Smoky Mountains, the elevation is ever-varying between about 900 and 6000 feet over a range of 36 miles. The foothills roll long before the range begins. In Wyoming, though, it's a different story.</div><div><br /></div><div>The elevation of the town Jackson Hole, sitting just below the Tetons' peaks, is about 6200 feet. The landscape is flat, marked only by fields and rivers, until suddenly</div></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lMMCjeJwpgw/TVXnk0LaumI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Ggm1u48MrP4/s1600/tetons.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lMMCjeJwpgw/TVXnk0LaumI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Ggm1u48MrP4/s320/tetons.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572614733608696418" /></a><div><div>colossal</div></div><div><br /></div><div>majestic</div><div><br /></div><div>snow-covered </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>jagged-peaked</div><div><br /></div><div><i><b>Mountains</b></i></div><div><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div>rise almost unbelievably out of the plains. </div><div><br /></div><div>The peaks reach nearly 14,000 feet, which may not be a big deal compared to the Colorado Rockies, but remember- that's a very sudden increase of about 8,000 feet. It isn't the height above sea level that makes the Tetons impressive. It's the height from base to peak, and the sharp drop between the two. </div><div><br /></div><div>The Tetons wouldn't really be all that impressive if the elevation of Jackson Hole was much higher, or if the ground rose more gradually. They're not record-setting peaks. As it is, though, they're spectacular, awe-inspiring, breathtaking. </div><div><br /></div><div>Our God is colossal. He is awesome, powerful, majestic, huge, <i>glorious</i>. </div><div><br /></div><div>But how can we see that if, in our flawed minds, our own elevation isn't too significantly different?</div><div><br /></div><div>The more humble we are- the lower our elevation- the more glorious our Lord appears in our eyes. </div><div><div><br /></div></div>Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-7856335240168567162011-01-03T00:02:00.003-06:002011-07-18T23:37:17.978-05:00Seeing Anew<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal">It is so easy to become used to things. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I had a really good cheeseburger the other day, and I realized just how bad the ones at Moody are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I stepped into the shower upon arriving home for break and suffered a moment of extreme confusion at the water coming from the left instead of the right like it is at school. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After two weeks of Christmas break, I have regained my addiction to reading.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I remember before I left, wondering how I would manage a whole semester with not much time for fiction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I wonder how I did manage it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And tonight, in the brisk air, I noticed the stars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Constellations that I recognize with only a brief glance such as Orion and the Pleiades, sparkling with more depth than the inky sky in which they hang.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">They were beautiful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Dazzling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Amazing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Despite the cold, all I wanted to do was stand there on the asphalt with my head tilted back, breathing deeply and indulging the awe that I felt over a sight I’d seen my entire life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I live in Chicago now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Unlike the cornfields of northwest Indiana, the city rarely allows for even a single star to shine through the clouds and light pollution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I knew before I left that I would miss the stars, and so I do, but apparently I’d become used to not seeing them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Because when I looked at the stars after months of city skies, I saw something that I missed when I saw them every day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My throat caught at their beauty and mystery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My mind struggled to comprehend their size and majesty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And my soul rejoiced in the God that created those stars, the God that knows them by number and name and holds the entire universe in His hand. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It reminds me of the day that I got my first pair of glasses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was seven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’d apparently been having my vision problems for quite some time, because when I placed the lenses in front of my eyes for the first time, I saw the world in a whole new way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I had literally forgotten that it was possible to see airplanes in the sky, not just hear them, as well as the fact that the individual leaves on trees are distinguishable. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’d become used to a world where things blurred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I didn’t remember the alternative. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That day was one filled with wonder, discovery, and excitement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And I can’t help but wonder what it takes to look at something with fresh eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Is an absence required first? Or is it a mindset that can be consciously formed? </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For example, as a church-grown girl who prayed the prayer at four years old, what does it take for me to see old Sunday school Bible stories with the new clarity of a new pair of glasses and the awe of a sky full of stars after a sojourn in the city? </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I don’t have an answer for that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Faith, prayer, trying?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Wanting to?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I don’t think it’s trying, because I’ve done that and I’m incompetent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">At my church in Chicago, the sermon series over the past few months was entitled “In Case You Missed It: A Grown-Up Look at Sunday School Stories”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The morning that I visited Edgewater Baptist for the first time, the story was from Genesis 3, the fall of man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">You have to understand something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m a Moody Bible Institute student, and that sermon happened to land on the week that I had studied the Fall in at least three different classes and may even have had a chapel speaker talk about it, coincidentally of course (*cough*).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So when I saw the sermon title, I automatically began the process of mentally shutting down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I had this covered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’d heard my Bible college profs explain it to me from three different angles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What more could I get from it?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Two things were wrong with that attitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>First, I was falling into the pride trap that so many Moody students succumb to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Superiority.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Second, I was forgetting that the Bible is a living book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That morning I got more out of the sermon that I have in a very long time, and I’ve heard some very good, effective sermons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My notes filled the margins of the bulletin and I looked at Genesis 3 in a way I’d never seen it before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>With clarity and awe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That doesn’t tell me what it takes to see with new eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But it tells me that it’s possible, and as long as I know that, that whole “faith and prayer” thing sounds like a pretty good idea to me. </p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-63245758324201577112010-11-06T23:41:00.002-05:002011-07-18T23:39:04.709-05:00As One Being Taught<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">I am an extremely habitual person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There are countless things that I always do, often without thinking, simply because I always do them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Some tendencies are innocuous, like sitting on the same side of the Bro-Sis table at each meal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Some are beneficial; for example, using the same shower in our community bathroom makes me feel more at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Some are just plain silly, such as always putting certain foods (like potatoes) in certain spots on my plate (bottom left).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But some habits are harmful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I’m in class and my professor is halfway to the “Amen” before I’ve consciously realized we’re praying (though my head is bowed with eyes closed and hands folded anyway) something is wrong.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I’m studying for a theology quiz and the notes in my own handwriting don’t look familiar in the slightest, there is a problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And I’m beginning to get concerned about the pattern that has been emerging in my mornings lately. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The one involving an epic struggle to stay awake and alert until after my first class and chapel, at which point I collapse for an hour-long nap and wake up just in time to go to lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So I’m resolving to change some of my habits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">First of all, prayer should not be a mindless routine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Actually, I believe that the root of these concerns is a deficiency in my prayer life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Praying consistently and wholeheartedly is something that I have always had a hard time with, but especially lately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In light of this, I’ve decided to make prayer a focus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Just recognizing that I need to work on prayer is not enough, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I need practical goals to help make sure that I am progressing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So here it is:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After chapel, instead of going for a nap, at least three times a week (Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays is the plan) I will shut myself in the Houghton 1 prayer room or somewhere else private.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I will set my phone alarm for thirty minutes and I will not leave until that alarm goes off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Maybe I won’t be able to focus the whole time, but I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">will</i> stay there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And I’m telling people about it (my roommates, my friends, whoever’s reading this) to ensure that I actually do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So ask me how it’s going sometime, and slap me if I make excuses (figuratively, please).</p> <p class="MsoNormal">As for the rest of it:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“The Sovereign L<span style="font-variant:small-caps">ORD has</span> given me an instructed tongue, </p><p class="MsoNormal">to know the word that sustains the weary.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He wakens me morning by morning,</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>wakens my ear to listen like one being taught.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>--Isaiah 50:4</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I will rely on God to help me not just to wake up every day but to thrive, to really live that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And not just to listen.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now there is an interesting concept.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not just “to listen”, but “to listen like one being taught”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When my notes are unrecognizable and every effort is focused on staying awake, I am certainly not listening like one being taught.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I might be listening well enough to write down what I need, but no further. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To listen as one being taught I must be engaged, fascinated, receptive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And I should be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After all, what I am learning is of the utmost importance and interest to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But I’m weak, and I’m flawed, so I have to rely on His aid.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m changing my habits… but I can’t do it alone. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8449673396949411953.post-28645970158468011412010-10-29T16:32:00.007-05:002011-07-18T23:40:30.885-05:00Of Life Homogeneous and Laughter-Filled<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">I am so thankful for laughter. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today I couldn’t remember what I did last year on Halloween, and it was bothering me, so I opened my old journal to figure it out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As I flipped through the pages on which the days of last fall were recorded, some entries caught my eye. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On October 27, 2009, I wrote, “I miss laughing. I feel like I barely remember how to laugh, laugh for real, from inside. I can’t stand this.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I remember telling a friend around that time, “Lately whenever I laugh, it’s because I think I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">should </i>be laughing… but I don’t actually feel like it, and it’s just on the surface, not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">deep</i> like laughter should be.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This time last year, I was feeling “uprooted, </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:2.0in"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>confused, </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:2.0in"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>contradicting, </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:2.0in"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>distracted, </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:2.0in"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>off… desperate for affirmation,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:2.0in"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></span>friendship, </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:2.0in"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></span>closure, </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:2.0in"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></span>certainty.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Nothing, or not much, is really that <u>bad</u> right now, but this crazy detached sporadic feeling I’ve got is making me <u>insane</u>!!!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Life didn’t feel like a continuation anymore, but rather a series of disassociated 24-hour periods having no succession or predictability.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Things in my life were amazing one day and horrid the next, and it was all out of my control.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But now, a year later… </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A day doesn’t go by without good, hearty laughter—or without thoughtful, intelligent conversations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Life is unpredictable, to be sure, but not in the disconcerting roller-coaster way of my senior year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There is a flow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In the words of Lucy Maude Montgomery, </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Then, suddenly, everything seemed to fall into focus—[Moody], professors, classes, students, studies, social doings. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Life became homogeneous again, </b>instead of being made up of detached fragments.”<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now I’m feeling at home</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></span>content</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></span>stable</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></span>focused (mostly)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></span>happy… in possession of affirmation</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></span>friendship</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>peace</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></span>faith.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Do I have closure? Not on everything I wanted to, no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But the lack of it doesn’t gnaw at me like it used to.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Do I have certainty? Absolutely not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Most things right now are uncertain (though I do revel in the structure of college life).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But that’s okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>God will lead me as He will, and I trust it’ll be a good way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And anyhow, the uncertainty I was referring to in my journal was not the uncertainty of future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was the uncertainty of relationships and knowing where I stood with people, as well as the uncertainty of making the right college choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As for college, I am most incontestably in the right place, and for the most part I know where I stand with people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It is far too easy sometimes to forget to thank God for where He’s brought us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That’s one reason that I journal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So that on days like today, I can remember how I was feeling not so long ago and see how God has worked in my life to change things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I can remember the days I was hopeless, and see how things worked out- for good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I can remember the prayers I prayed and sometimes see the answers. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And I can remember just how much a simple thing like genuinely laughing can mean to me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last Halloween (and I can’t believe that I forgot, but the mind does funny things on sleep-deprived Fridays) I spent the evening with good friends… and here’s the best part: “I laughed so much tonight, from deep inside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I needed that so badly.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Thank You, Lord, for creating laughter… and for allowing it to be part of my daily life right now. </p> <!--EndFragment-->Megan Gillespiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216664343811162465noreply@blogger.com0