Wednesday Letters: Dear Little Sister

Dear Julianne,

On this very day, fourteen years ago, you were born. I remember waking up early to go to the hospital. I remember putting on my favorite jeans and t-shirt and getting a few oranges out of the fridge because I figured Mom & Dad would be hungry for good food. It was 6:30AM and they had left the night before.

You were born at 10:36 AM and at only 11 years old, I was there to see it. I saw the miracle of your birth and I rejoiced to finally have a sister. You were long and wirey and even though I wasn't much a crier then, I teared up a little.

Here we are, earlier today. You have no idea how beautiful you looked on that stage, singing The Andrews Sisters and grinning through your bright red lipstick. You are far more gorgeous than you know. It's cliche for me to say I'm proud of you, but it's still true.

I remember being 14 well. I had my first "real" boyfriend, my first kiss, my first school dance that actually involved dancing. I had my first adult-ish understanding of who I was as a child of God, of my potential to make a difference in the lives of my friends, of my responsibility.

You are far more humble than I, but I wonder if what seems like humility among a family of very loud egos might actually be insecurity. We joke and say our family is "all chiefs and no braves," but I wonder if you would be more comfortable as a brave.

No, that's not it either. You are a chief, you see, but you are unlike the rest of us. You are a quiet chief, whose leadership is reflected in more action and fewer words. It is no wonder you loved Toby so much when you were little; you two are similar souls-- deep waters, and calm. You have learned to hold your own among us loudmouths, biting sarcasm and all. But it is we who ought to learn from you.

You are comfortable as a quiet chief, and we could learn.

We could learn to be still. To listen. To hear the music in our heads, our hearts. We could learn to be tender-hearted, to care about the hurt feelings of others. We could learn to take notice, to see the situation hurting a person, rather than that person's hurting us. We could learn to make room for our dreams, to choose them over ambition or "success" as defined by our world. We could learn to play our instruments more and watch our televisions less.

As your older sister, let me offer you this one bit of advice--

Do what you love.

Our mom has told us this all along, but let me tell you, she is right. God has given you gifts and talents and dreams with purpose. Your passions have purpose. Do what you love.

For your fourteenth year, I pray these things for you:

I pray you will know your beauty. I pray you will catch glimpses of your heart the way we see it-- beautiful, growing, budding, blooming. I pray you will understand in the middle of chaos, cattiness, growing pains, that you are valuable, that you are precious, treasured and cherished. I pray you will grow in your understanding of a God who loves you far more than you can imagine and shows it in far more ways than you will be able to recognize. I pray you will not be caught up in the non-eternal things that so easily overtake girls in their fourteenth year. I pray your heart will be swept into things of eternal importance, that your mind will be enraptured by grace, that your songs will harmonize with the choruses of our God.

For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.

Happy Birthday! I love you,

Hopey

Overload.

I'm having one of those days.

The ones where I think way too much.

Where there are so many things going on

in so many facets of life that it gets all

discombobulated.

I've been writing every morning.

Every morning.

Result?

So much clarity

about so many things,

about so much of my own history.

So what do I do with it all?

That's where I am today.

Jonah & the Whale, perhaps with a table & chair inside

My church has been talking about Jonah for the past couple of weeks. Jonah is considered one of the minor prophets, which is kind of a misnomer when you think about it, because what's minor about going into evil populations and preaching to people who don't want to hear it? And there's not really anything minor about being swallowed up by a great fish, wouldn't you say?

You know the story-- God tells Jonah what he needs to do so the people of Nineveh will turn back to God. Jonah says I don't think so! and promptly runs in the opposite direction, hops on a ship, gets caught in the perfect storm, is thrown overboard, swallowed by a great fish, at which point he decides it might be an okay idea to pray & repent, and then God has the great fish vomit Jonah out on to dry land 3 days later. (Literally, the Bible says "vomited.") Jonah goes to preach in Nineveh like God wanted him to in the first place "and the people of Nineveh believed in God."

I don't know about you, but the way I learned this story, it was all about the great fish and how Jonah was in the belly for three days. I have this distinct image in my head of Jonah
in profile, inside a whale with a little chair and a candle burning on a table. Seriously? A table and chair and candle? Fantastic Sunday school cartoons, let me tell you. And the idea of living inside of a whale-- which by the way, it wasn't necessarily-- was considered the worst part of the whole thing for Jonah.

The focus was never on Jonah running away from God, or God redeeming the whole situation with Jonah AND the people of Nineveh. It was more like-- the whale swallowed him, God saved him when he made the fish vomit Jonah out. Jonah and the Whale. La de dah de dah.

But did you ever consider the fact that when the great fish swallowed Jonah, it saved him?

Jonah had been thrown overboard in the middle of a massive storm. In the ocean. Homeboy was drowning, facing death in the face and sea water in the lungs. And God sent a great fish to save him. Oh sure, he had to hang out in the belly of a fish (ew- the stench!) for three days, but he was alive, and the great fish conveniently dropped Jonah off on dry land.

God sends the fish. The fish saves his life. Jonah preaches. Nineveh is saved.

So what's your great fish?

I have been through some situations that seem like the worst possible thing in the worst possible moment and walking through them sucked, quite frankly. I have made decisions that were hard and hurtful. And I've wondered why in the hell God was letting all the shit come down. (That's a lot of cussing for one sentence about God.)

But in retrospect, those hard things were God's provision, his protection.

We're told over and over again that God's ways aren't the same as our ways. But when his ways hurt for awhile, well, it's hard to remember that. I was writing a kind of "statement of faith" recently and I wrote that there has never been a moment of my journey with God when I have wanted to walk away from him. I am grateful for this, and baffled by it. He's put me in some places I would never choose to go, but I'm changed because of them. Changed and grown. And I'm glad. I hope I can always say that honestly, but in this world that's so broken and filled with heartache, I wonder.

I wonder if God will send me a great fish that will spit me up, and then I'll walk away, not knowing he's protecting me.

The thing is, Jonah prayed inside that fish. He hadn't prayed at all up until that point, and when he realized God had saved him, he cried "Salvation belongs to the Lord!" When we are saved so drastically & loved so relentlessly, what else is there to do, but worship?

Wednesday Letters: John Piper, you drive me crazy.

Dear John Piper,

I like you. I've learned a lot from your writing, but seriously, you drive me bonkers. Sometimes you make these huge sweeping statements or quote the "author's translation" of scripture verses that kiiiiind of change the meaning completely. (And don't even get me started on your tweets-- or these.) I don't try to be nitpicky when I read your stuff, but sometimes.... aaaiii yiii yiiii!

This is not what is annoying to me though.

What is annoying is how often I think you're right.

Some friends and I are going through your book Desiring God. This week we were discussing the chapter on money, and wouldn't you know it, this is a topic I've been thinking a lot about lately, what with my great lack of cash and all, and you busted me in that chapter, John. You busted me.

I would never have admitted this even six months ago, but historically I am highly materialistic. Shopping? Yes! New makeup? Total necessity. High heels in all colors & styles? Well, of course, they're for work! Hair products, business suits, new bags, bottles of good wine, great gifts for friends, dinners out, new outfits for every.single.wedding.event? Hellllll-to-the-yeah! (Oh sorry, you probably don't like it when Christians cuss. Oops!)

Now that I've moved, I'm spending more money every month on bills and my resources dwindle to just enough for food, exercise and gas-- okay fine, I still get a haircut every five-to-six weeks-- but the point is, my lifestyle has been forced into change.

Now John, you stinker, you keep saying over and over again that my desire for happiness is so weak that I settle for "fleeting pleasures" that are never going to satisfy the deep parts of my soul. Slap! in. the. face. Becuase you're right! I know you are. Everytime I swipe my little credit card to buy something I don't need to live, I know you are right.

Mr. Piper, I agree with you when you write: We can be content with simplicity because the deepest, most satisfying delights God gives us through creation are free gifts from nature and from loving relationships with people...Buying things contributes absolutely nothing to the heart's capacity for joy.

And I am challenged when you ask: Have you learned your attitude toward money from the Bible, or have you absorbed it from contemporary American merchandising?

I am hopeful when you say: God increases our yield so that by giving we can prove that our yield is not our god.

I understand, John, that I am currently incapable of proving that my yield is not my god. I'm humbled by the fact that I can't even prove that with a very small amount of money. I understand that my heart is depraved & in such desperate need of Jesus that I can't even work out my finances without him.

And for some reason, that I am sure is pure grace, I have great hope in my total lack of individual ability.

__________________________________

I found this picture of Piper with Mark Driscoll with the caption: "Don't worry, John Piper is about to turn the other cheek."

:)

Time to Say Goodbye

(You can play this in the background while you read. It. Is. A--MAZING.)

Time to say goodbye to...

...self-doubt

...waiting

...needing a plan

...trying to figure "it" all out, right now

...whining without creating change

...spending money on things I don't actually need

...wasting time-- in small bits on the internet and large bits on life in general

...a few people, in particular

What is it time for you to say goodbye to?

Wednesday Letters: Dear Haiti

Dear Haiti,

I wish I had words to speak that would bring healing, comfort, even just the basic emotion of feeling safe. I wonder what it must be like, to feel the earth move beneath you, followed by the chaos of struggling to survive.

I am sure you felt that struggle long before the ground shook. I am sure your faces have woken up to the kinds of sunrises we dream about here beneath the florescent lights of our offices, and longed for the kind of food we consume in our rush between meetings. I am sure that sleeping beneath the stars last night was not so very different for many of your people. I am sure that a majority of us who saw your rubble on the news this morning do not know you are the poorest nation in our hemisphere.

Or sadly, we do, and yet it took the literal moving of the earth for us to send so many to your rescue. I'm sorry, Haiti. I'm sorry that I am one who did not pay attention. I'm sorry.

So now, late but not too late, you are in our prayers, our thoughts, our pleads to the God of love. Let us be the hands of Jesus as we descend upon your land.

Here's more info about Haiti from One Day's Wages:

Haiti ranks as one of the least developed countries in the world, and has an approximate population of 10 million, with most citizens living below $2 per day. According to the World Food Program, more than half live on less than $1 per day – in extreme global poverty…One Day’s Wages has committed $5,000 from our General Giving Fund to aid in the relief efforts and now, we invite you to join us.

*There are many ways to help Haiti today. Here are a few:

- Compassion (or click the button, top right)

- American Red Cross

- Samaritan's Purse

- Donate $10 to be charged to your cell phone bill by texting "HAITI" to "90999."

- One Day's Wages

- UNICEF

- A list of 11 more from Desiring God

___________________________________

Why Wednesday Letters?

When I moved recently I found a book my mom gave me once called The Wednesday Letters. It's one of those sweet little Christmas or beach reads about a man who wrote his wife letters every Wednesday of their married lives. I've also come to love reading Patricia's Monday letters to her daughters over at Jonesbones5.

My friend Tara and I recently decided to become pen pals and send real letters, using actual pens and stationary because that art should not be lost in these days of micro-blogging & texting. My handwriting looks like that of someone my grandmother's age, and somehow I feel the need to preserve the beauty of cursive script & the way words flow over pages you can feel between your fingers.

On the other hand, I do so love to blog. So I've decided to institue Wednesday Letters here. I like Wednesdays (and not only because the aforementioned Tara's dog is called by the same name), and I love the format of a letter written. And so, this was the first one.

My Quarter Life

Today is my twenty-fifth birthday.

It feels more profound than most birthdays and I don't know why.

Today my mom told me I am the happiest she's ever seen me. I count it as a compliment & I would say she's right. Somehow, in the middle of things unexpected, things difficult, & a season of winter, I feel in bloom.

I took a trip this weekend alone. Alone on purpose. I wrote & I learned & I felt the value of knowing myself. And honestly, you know, I feel a little guilty for saying that.

We say in Christian circles-- good and biblical ones-- that life is about knowing Jesus, glorifying him. And I agree fully. But I wonder then why I feel scolded, at times, for pursuing the things I am gifted in and for acknowledging I am gifted in them.

If I am made in the image of the Creator, if I feel most myself when creative, if I pursue that creativity by pursuing a deeper understanding of my own heart and mind, am I not then pursuing a deeper understanding of my Creator? And is that not good?

I hope I have three-quarters more of life to learn these things. I hope my days will stretch out like the rolling hills I watched from my hotel window. I hope the colors of my days will change the way the rising sun on the mountainsides changed my perception of them. I hope I am able to watch the seasons & to feel them, to feel their changing & the growth that lies beneath the surface of the gardens.

I like that I could not see beyond that one Appalachian cluster to the stories beyond it. I'm hopeful for those stories, and glad for the waiting.