Wow, I'm awful :-P.

I'm really bad at keeping these things updated, but I'll try...maybe, ha.

Things that have happened since then: Cody and I started dating, I started a new job this summer, I'm singing on the praise teams at church...and except for the flat tire this morning (changed by the wonderful Cody) and random other crap, like my Kobo breaking, life has been pretty good. I'm going in the dunk tank for the Freedom and Faith Festival Sunday, and I get to sing with the groups.

Alright, see you guys later. Casual day tomorrow at work...looking forward to it :-).

His Eye is on the Sparrow

I am quite attached to this first passage. It never fails to stir some kind of emotion in me...and not always a positive one. Sometimes I get irritated because I've heard it so many times (I regularly think of it as I'm getting ready to head out), and sometimes it strikes that certain chord that sends chills or guilt or some other powerful feeling running through me. No matter how many times I've heard it or roll my eyes at God ("Yeah, yeah, don't worry, blah blah blah...what about me?"), it is always a good reminder and so very true.

On a light note, although I long ago got over my Jason Perry obsession (promise!), I always think of the version he sang of "His Eye is on the Sparrow" (lyrics located below)...it was a great version (as well as the one from Sister Act II)...I think the song fits well with the Matthew 6 passage. A quote and the Scriptural source of that song (according to Wikipedia) are also located below.

God bless you, and I hope you never forget how important you are, how important God things you are. I love you all.

Matthew 6:25-34 (NIV)
25"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? 26Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

28"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' 32For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

Why should I feel discouraged / Why should the shadows come / Why should my heart feel lonely / And long for heaven and home / When Jesus is my portion / A constant friend is He / His eye is on the sparrow / And I know He watches over me / His eye is on the sparrow / And I know He watches me /
I sing because I'm happy / I sing because I'm free / His eye is on the sparrow / And I know He watches me (He watches me) / His eye is on the sparrow / And I know He watches / I know He watches / I know He watches me

Early in the spring of 1905, my husband and I were sojourning in Elmira, New York. We contracted a deep friendship for a couple by the name of Mr. and Mrs. Doolittle—true saints of God. Mrs. Doolittle had been bedridden for nigh twenty years. Her husband was an incurable cripple who had to propel himself to and from his business in a wheel chair. Despite their afflictions, they lived happy Christian lives, bringing inspiration and comfort to all who knew them. One day while we were visiting with the Doolittles, my husband commented on their bright hopefulness and asked them for the secret of it. Mrs. Doolittle’s reply was simple: "His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me." The beauty of this simple expression of boundless faith gripped the hearts and fired the imagination of Dr. Martin and me. The hymn "His Eye Is on the Sparrow" was the outcome of that experience.
-- Civilla Martin

Matthew 10:29-31 (NIV)
29Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. 30And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

(The Bible passages were taken from biblegateway.com, and the lyrics and quote were taken from wikipedia.com.)

Storms

When I was driving to work this morning, with my iPod on shuffle (while plugged into the car, of course), the song "Praise You in This Storm" by Casting Crowns began playing. This song almost always gets me thinking, and this morning it got me thinking about rainstorms (because I like them, despite how I react sometimes), then emotional storms, then other natural disasters; and then it started making me think about what Dave Jenkins preached about yesterday morning.

(This seemed a whole lot more together at 7:30ish this morning, but I of course waited until now to write this, losing some of it's energy in the process, so I apologize for this not being too terribly fleshed out.)

There are all kinds of storms out there. There are natural storms and storms that occur within us. There are storms that dissipate within a few minutes, and there are storms that take hours to fade. Some major storms can occur quickly but also be life-altering, and some seemingly simple storm can last for days. Some storms are sent to cleanse the world of dirt and all manner of things (also, when your eyes are dry, it can sometimes cause blurred vision, so some type of liquid, possibly tears, are needed to wash your eyes); some storms cause destruction (sometimes seemingly irreparable) in a place (but possibly igniting in some a desire to help); some storms are there to simply help things grow or to refresh the earth.

So, to steal a phrase from Dave Jenkins (and almost connect it to his sermon), we have to prepare for whatever type of rain is headed our way, whether it be a cleansing one, a damaging one, a simple refreshing shower, or one that sends us so much hope and good things that we don't know what to do with it. I think all are meant for growth and/or healing, whether our own or someone (or something) else's.

(I love how the writer of this song is clearly going through anger and sadness, yet...I don't know. I feel like this could be a psalm, in my personal opinion; I feel that like this could fit very well alongside David and the others, even without Psalm 121 at the end of the song.)

I was sure by now, God, you would have reached down

And wiped our tears away, stepped in and saved the day

But once again, I say amen

And it's still raining

But as the thunder rolls I barely hear You whisper through the rain, "I'm with you"

And as Your mercy falls I raise my hands and praise the God who gives and takes away

And I'll praise you in this storm and I will lift my hands

For You are who You are no matter where I am

And every tear I've cried You hold in your hand

You never left my side and though my heart is torn

I will praise You in this storm

I remember when I stumbled in the wind

You heard my cry to You and raised me up again

My strength is almost gone how can I carry on

If I can't find You

And as the thunder rolls I barely hear You whisper through the rain, "I'm with you"

And as Your mercy falls I raise my hands and praise the God who gives and takes away

I lift my eyes onto the hills. Where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth

I lift my eyes onto the hills. Where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth

(image found on images.yahoo.com)

Dear Alex

Dear Alex,

Hi, it's your friend. I know we talk occasionally, but here's a few things I think I should let you know:

If you live farther away from work than you used to live, you have to leave earlier than you used to leave. I know it's hard, but it's something you have to do. This also means you should probably go to bed at a decent hour, for the most part.

If you insist on wearing wind shorts and/or no socks to bed in the middle of winter, you will probably be cold and uncomfortable.

If you don't practice, you won't get better.

You should probably exercise regularly. If it's cold/windy/any other not-so-fun weather, figure out a different way to get in shape, even if it means using the slightly ghetto fitness center in your apartment complex. Good job on getting started, though.

You cannot continue buying things you don't need as long as you're getting paid what you are. That means that pair of TOMS you've been looking at and that book you've been waiting for are not necessary. That being said, if you can hang out with friends (if you're not strapping for finances), do so; just budget yourself. Splurging is allowed occasionally (OCCASIONALLY).

God and I are good buddies, and we usually get along. However, if it comes between him and me, I would go with him.

Wearing open-toed shoes in the winter is not your brightest idea. Also, wearing uncomfortable shoes when you know they will cause you some physical discomfort isn't good, even if they do make you 5'5" or 5'6".

Getting your hopes up feels great but is very dangerous territory (especially concerning the opposite sex).

If you know drinking that much diet soda is not good for you, then FIND A GOOD SUBSTITUTE.

Eating healthy can be costly sometimes, but it can taste good, if you'll just give it more chances (I know you don't really like vegetables, but I know you could probably like more if you just tried...remember those spinach leaves on your sandwich?).

If you're going to continue to wear your Little Miss Sunshine shoes, you can't complain when people mistake you for a student.

Don't worry so much (God and I agree on that one).

I know you'll have a hard time listening to me on some of these, but just know I'm looking out for your best interests.

Hope to see you soon,
Common Sense

The creation

Before the seas and lands had been created,
before the sky that covers everything,
Nature displayed a single aspect only
throughout the cosmos; Chaos was its name,
a shapeless, unwrought mass of inert bulk
and nothing more, with the discordant seeds
of disconnected elements all heaped
together in anarchic disarray.

The sun as yet did not light up the earth,

nor did the crescent moon renew her horns,
nor was the earth suspended in midair,
balanced by her own weight, nor did the ocean
extend her arms to the margins of the land.

Although the land and sea and air were present,

land was unstable, the sea unfit for swimming,
and air lacked light; shaped shifted constantly,
and all things were at odds with one another,
for in a single mass cold strove with warm,
wet was opposed to dry and soft to hard,
and weightlessness to matter having weight.

Some god (or kinder nature) settled this

dispute by separating earth from heaven,
and then by separating sea from earth
and fluid aether from the denser air;
and after these were separated out
and liberated from the primal heap,
he bound the disentangled elements
each in its place and all in harmony.

The fiery and weightless aether leapt

to heaven's vault and claimed its citadel;
the next in lightness to be placed was air;
the denser earth drew down gross elements
and was compressed by its own gravity;
encircling water lastly found its place,
encompassing the solid earth entire.

Now when that god (or whichever one it was)

had given Chaos form, dividing it
in parts which he arranged, he molded earth
into the shape of an enormous globe,
so that it should be uniform throughout.

And afterward he sent the waters streaming

in all directions, ordered waves to swell
under the sweeping winds, and sent the flood
to form new shores on the surrounded earth;
he added springs, great standing swamps and laes,
as well as sloping rivers fixed between
their narrow banks, whose plunging waters (all
in varied places, each in its own channel)
are partly taken back into the earth
when they--received into the larger field
of a freer flood--beat against shores, not banks.
He ordered open plains to spread themselves,
valleys to sing, the stony peaks to rise,
and forests to put on their coats of green.

And as the vault of heaven is divided

by two zones on the right and two on the left,
with a central zone, much hotter, in between,
so, by the care of this creator god,
the mass that was enclosed now by the sky
was zoned in the same way, with the same lines
inscribed upon the surface of the earth.
Heat makes the middle zone unlivable,
and the two outer zones are deep in snow;
between these two extremes, he placed two others
of temperate climate, blending cold and warmth.

Air was suspended over all of this,

proportionately heavier than aether,
as earth is heavier than water is.
He ordered mists and clouds into position,
and thunder, to make test of our resolve,
and winds creating thunderbolts and lightning.

Nor did that world-creating god permit

the winds to roam ungoverned through the air;
for even now, with each of them in charge
of his own kingdom, and their blasts controlled,
they scarcely can be kept from shattering
the world, such is the discord between brothers.

Eurus went eastward, to the lands of Dawn,

the kingdoms of Arabia and Persia,
and to the mountain peaks that lie below
the morning's rays; and Zephyr took his place
on the western shores warmed by the setting sun.
The frozen north and Scythia were seized
by bristling Boreas; the lands opposite,
continually drenched by fog and rain,
are where the south wind, known as Auster, dwells.
Above these winds, he set the weightless aether,
a liquid free of every earthly toxin.

No sooner had he separated all

within defining limits, when the stars,
which formerly had been concealed in darkness,
began to blaze up all throughout the heavens;
and so that every region of the world
should have its own distinctive forms of life,
the constellations and the shapes of gods
occupied the lower part of heaven;
the seas gave shelter to the shining fishes,
earth received beasts, and flighty air, the birds.

An animal more like the gods than these,

more intellectually capable
and able to control the other beasts,
had not as yet appeared: now man was born,
either because the framer of all things,
the fabricator of this better world,
created man out of his own divine
substance--or else because Prometheus
took up a clod (so lately broken off
from lofty aether that it still contained
some elements in common with its kin),
and mixing it with water, molded it
into the shape of gods, who govern all.

And even though all other animals

lean forward and look down toward the ground,
he gave to man a face that is uplifted,
and ordered him to stand erect and look
directly up into the vaulted heavens
and turn his countenance to meet the stars;
the earth, that was so lately rude and formless,
was changed by taking on the shapes of men.

Ovid. Metamorphoses. Trans. Charles Martin. New York: W.W.Norton

& Company, 2004. 15-8.

Starry...morning

So I was leaving my house about 4:45 this morning and wasn't particularly happy about it. There was, however, a beautiful starry sky, so that made it a little bit better. Then, about an hour later, as we were on the bus headed toward a choir contest, I decided to look out the window again, and it appeared to me the stars had "set", I guess, a little. That got me thinking a bit...

The world turns, and we don't actually feel it spinning. It orbits the sun, and we don't feel it moving. Somehow there's gravity on Earth but not outside of it. Earth and the other heavenly bodies stay in place, if you will, but if you or an object end up outside of the bodies' atmospheres, you go floating off into space. How is it things so big stay essentially suspended? Maybe the big things are hurtling through space, too, but at a much slower pace...but even if that were true, how is it that gravity between atmospheres can be so different?

I kind of like not having a solid scientific explanation for this, about why all these gravities/atmospheres/etc. are different. It feels a little unsettling but also reassuring at the same time. I think it's one of those things that maybe God doesn't really want us to understand, to just think about it in awe and wonderment, to understand that sometimes God is the only explanation.

Two of my favorite poems

"The Bells" by Edgar Allan Poe
I.
Hear the sledges with the bells--
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells--
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

II.
Hear the mellow wedding bells
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells--
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

III.
Hear the loud alarum bells--
Brazen bells!
What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now--now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear, it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows ;
Yet, the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells--
Of the bells--
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells--
In the clamour and the clangour of the bells!

IV.
Hear the tolling of the bells--
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy meaning of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people--ah, the people--
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone--
They are neither man nor woman--
They are neither brute nor human--
They are Ghouls:--
And their king it is who tolls ;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A pæan from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the pæan of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells ;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the pæan of the bells--
Of the bells :
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells--
Of the bells, bells, bells--
To the sobbing of the bells ;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells--
Of the bells, bells, bells--
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells--
Bells, bells, bells--
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

"Gira il nemico insidioso" by Giulio Strozzi
The insidious enemy, Love, circles
The fortress of my heart.
Hurry up, for he is not far away.
Arm yourselves!

We must not let him approach, so he can scale
Our weak walls,
But let us make a brave sally out to meet him.
Throw on the saddles!

His weapons are no fakes, he draws nearer
With his whole army.
Hurry up, for he is not far from here.
Everyone to his post!

He intends to attack the stronghold of my eyes
With a vigorous assault.
Hurry up, for he is here without any doubt.
Everyone to his horse!

There’s no more time, alas, for all of a sudden he
Has made himself the master of my heart.
Take to your heels, save yourselves if you can.
Run!

My heart, you flee in vain, you are dead.
And I hear the arrogant tyrant,
The victor, who is already inside the fortress,
Crying “Fire, slaughter!"