Wrestling with the Easter Bunny

Romans 8:39 "neither heights, nor depths, nor anything in all creation can separate use from the Love of God found in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Easter is the time of year where little girls get dressed in frilly, colored dresses. We buy boys miniature grey suits and baby blue bow-ties and we call this "our Sunday best." We fill up baskets with "grass" the color of the rainbow and send our children off too look for eggs supposedly hidden by a gigantic rabbit that we took pictures with at the mall last week.

At the core it has remained a family holiday, even if we throw out the death and resurrection, lent which precedes both, and even before that, Passover. And it seems, like Christmas, we've forgotten the true meaning. Yet, recently I feel like I'm more able to relate to the fuzzy bunny holiday than the celebration of my salvation.

It's easy to feel far from God.

Anyone that lives in this busy world knows the struggle of trying to make-ends-meet and still follow God whole heartedly. There's that ever present tension, where we're striving to stop to say our morning prayers, yet still win the race of making it to work on time.

This goes out to all the 20-somethings struggling to figure out what it means to live in "the real world," every-one who works the glorious human services schedules, and all those who struggle to hear God's voice.

I took my job, praying Lord use me. Knowing that even if I missed church, there is something to be said of "caring for the least of these," and "walking alongside orphans." So I prayed "Lord use me. Teach me to pray in the moment, not just when I carve it out in my schedule. Teach me to feel your presence, even when time slips through my fingers to bask in it. Be my guide." I'm still praying.

It's hard working a One-Sunday-off-a-month schedule. It's hard to know where you sit with God when you don't have a preacher reminding you every week. It's hard to pray and remind yourself where you sit with God when most days you're surrounded by situations that challenge his existence.

However, through these time of loneliness, struggle, and testing our faith is made stronger. In times when I am discouraged I've been learning to cling to this verse:

"neither heights nor depths, nor anything that is in all creation will separate us from the love of God found in Christ Jesus our Lord" Romans 8:39.

And as Linus to Charlie Brown: That is the real meaning of Easter.

When my life feels like a circus of juggling a job against my spiritual life. When I'm really not sure where I stand in this great scheme of life. When Easter has become simply a rabbits feet and candy. That's when I remember that I am loved.

Despite the challenges. Despite the struggle, I am loved more than I can ever imagine. And when I remember how much I am loved in the midst of chaos, that is when my faith is made stronger, because God reaches down to remind me he is still there.

Happy Easter Season. It's coming just next week. Remember, no matter your situation. No matter how you feel, you are loved. And that is the true meaning of Easter.

ReLENT

40 day Lent Photo Challenge:

 

grace in giving up

This is a shorter post, which I must apologuze for as it indeed has been a while since I have posted, but I feel forgiveness will be given from anyone who lives in the modern ameican world and has struggled to keep their head on straight.
However a prominent thought has been sticking out to me through this lent season, one I feel deserves a little publicity. This idea that grace is for sinners. The woman caught in adultry, judas iscariot, the woman at the well, the man hanging at the side of Jesus on Golgotha. All undeniably guilty. All publicly recieving shame. The woman was caught in the act. She was dragged naked to be stoned. She knew. The world knew.
Judas, though given silver for his betrayal was so overrun by guilt that he returned the silver and hanged himself and even today is scorned as the betrayer. The woman at the well worked in the hottest hours of the day to avoid the scorn and rejection of her fellow towns people. She knew she was rejectable. And the man hanging next to jesus proclaimed, we deserve our deaths, yet he is innocent. Yet all recieved grace.
 The woman was given life. The sinless proclaimed I do not condemn you, go. He set her free from a life of shame.
Judas though would betray Jesus was chosen by Jesus. Jesus chose Judas (check out 24/7 prayer for more on this. They have a profound lent series).
The woman at the well was known fully. She proclaimed he told me all my sins and rejoiced for she was known, yet accepted. The theif saw Jesus in paradise.

All guilty.
All given grace.

And this grace was not just for Jesus current time, but stretched way before. I'm reading a series by Francine Rivers about the women in the line of Jesus. Though Rachel was the beloved wife of Jacob, it was Leah who was chosen to fall into lineage of the Jesus. Not only that, but several of the women in that line were not only canaanites or gentiles (women the Lord told his people not to mix with) but prostituted. Jesus chose the rejectable to be his people.

And that same grace reaches out today. I was chatting with my pastor the other day and she brought up the point that when we think of leading, especially in our modern age, we think of leading in our strengths. We think of displaying our best and that being the fruit of our leadership.  No one thinks of leading in our weakness. Noone wants to, because the means to be exposed.  That means our ugly side will show.
However only when our ugliness and shame is displayed can true grace be given Breath.

Thought of the day: amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. 

Clean Eating Muffins

Look at these beautiful muffins I made! For real! I had to be up at the butt-crack of dawn this morning, so what better way to kick off the day than muffins I made the night before. I've been trying to take better care of my body by eating more wholesome meals. These muffins, paired with a glass of whole milk and coffee did the trick, and guess what! Gluten free, sugar free! Tasty. They're not as sweet as other muffins, but I feel like some honey drizzled on top could round it out for eaters with a sweet tooth. 

Clean Eating Muffins

1 1/4 cup oatmeal

1 very ripe banana

1/2 cup whole milk

1/4 cup unsweetened applesauce

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp baking powder

2 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp vanilla

nuts, berries, dried fruit, etc if desired. 

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees and grease 6-12 muffin cups. (I used 12. Should have used 6!)

2. Place oatmeal in magic bullet and pulse until finely ground. Transfer to mixing bowl and add baking soda, baking powder, and cinnamon. 

3. Place banana, milk, applesauce, and vanilla in magic bullet. Blend! Add to dry mixture. Combine until all is wet. Add mix-ins until desired (I didn't add any, but I think these would be beautiful with walnuts and dried apricots. )

4. Bake for 12-15 min or until toothpick inserted comes out clean. 

5. While pans are still hot, pop the muffins out of the cups and let cool. 

6. Serve warm with hot coffee  <3 Enjoy!

Sing like no one's watching...

Today I sang.
I know that doesn't sound like a big thing to some. I mean, I kind of sing all the time, at least subconsciously. However, today is the first time, in a long time, that I sat on a stage, microphone to my mouth, and belted my lungs towards an audience.
To some this isn't a big deal, but to those that have been following this musical renaissance in my life, they would know this is a big deal.
Growing up music became my life. It was an identity. Singing was something that shaped the very core of my being. An outlet...an art...a medium of worship. Then I got into high school and choir. Chamber choir, contests, all-state. It all wrapped up into this obsession with perfection. This obsession with being the best. Before long every fault I found in others' voices and my own pierced my ears. I could no longer sit in a concert hall and enjoy the melodies without critiquing the artist and performance. Upon hearing talent greater than my own, an overwhelming sense of jealousy came over me.
So I quit. I quit singing. I quit music all together. Refusing to sing in school, in a choir, even during worship at church. I had been so engulfed by this idea that if I couldn't be perfect, than I needed to just work harder or be better. The thought that my voice was enough...I was enough never crossed my mind. An obsession...in a sense, music became my god. And I knew this was wrong.
I had to get my priorities straight before I would allow myself to sing again, so I took a year off from everything. The next year I began singing in the shower....when I thought no one was around to hear...later I found out everyone could hear. The next year I started fiddling with a guitar... and now this summer I traveled to India, maybe with the soul purpose of singing with one little girl.
Then today I sang and played guitar at an open mic. I was nervous the whole day, and when 7 o'clock (the time of the mic) ticked, I was shaking in my boots. There were several people with guitars, ready to sing and share. Then my leader said, "Kayla, why don't you sign up first so that others will feel comfortable?"
Yikes! Was it not apparent that I was nervous as all get out?
Guess not. I shoot my head with intimidation, but signed up anyway. So I was first to go, ready to set the standard low.
Deep Breath. Finally the MC takes the stage.
I'm ready. Keep breathing.
He announces, and he announces a name other than mine.
The four year old girl in the back of the room trots up to the stage and takes the mic.
All acapella, she lets loose, "Twinkle, Twinkle, little star..."
Cuteness rushed over the room. Who knows if she was slightly off key or missed the rhythm. No one cared. No one noticed. It wasn't what or how she was singing that one the audience, it was the fact that she sang.
Then I heard a soft voice whisper to my heart, "That's how I feel about you."
Suddenly I realized, it doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter how it sounds, or if it's off. My guitar may be out of tune, but none of that matters. What matters is that I sang.
Sure, I'll try to hit the right notes and carry a tune in a bucket, but even if I don't the point is that I'm singing, and if I'm singing I will shine.
And all of us shined, as I got up and sang a song to my dear friend, as another girl sang a song she wrote (dang that takes guts, maybe some day), a friend read some poetry, and another guy rapped. As we did, Abba said, "I'm proud of you." The crowd agreed.
Sometimes we hide our gifts, our talents, because we're afraid of being judged or criticized. However, if we continue to hide them, what use are they. We may not always get it right, but the point is that we use them.

"Let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works and praise your Father in heaven." -Matthew 5:16