For the sake of the Lord's glory, I hope the whole world reads this post. Today marks the faithfulness of My God. Today, He has proven Himself to me. Today, He has shown me that waiting patiently really is worth the reward. And now, I share with you my biography...in part.
I recall (easily) the lonliness, heartbreak, confusion, and stress of twelve years worth of waking up at 5:30 each morning to face another long day of school without friends. Oh, there were many acquaintences who taught me how to master the game of survival in the wave pool of alligators, I mean adolescents. There were few "friends" that came and went throughout my time there, but I never truly understood the terms "best friend," "attached at the hip," and "two of a kind." They were foreign concepts. I was a loner, or as my mom told me, set apart.
For the first 18 years of my life, we (my family) begged and pleaded with the Lord to provide faithful people my age for me to share the joys of life with. I distinctly remember my dad, so full of wisdom, telling me one afternoon to always love people. I was never to give anyone a foothold for accusation and it was certainly never a choice to add my two cents to the day's gossip column. He said that if I loved others the way that Jesus loved me, even if they left me on the side of the road to die a slow (social) death, one day I would be honored because of His name. On that day, He would take my unpredictable predators off of their seats of glory and He would lift me, in His lap, onto His throne and give them all front row seats to see it happen.
There have been many times that I have not heeded that advice; but, the picture of me, sitting in the lap of my Father, has never left me. Its vision has remained perfectly clear and I wondered constantly when my day of relief would come. Many times I grew tired of waiting, but it never failed. I was always reminded (and still am) to wait patiently. All is in due time...
I made it through the "wonder" years and found myself, after much deliberation, in a little place called Auburn. Maybe you've heard of it? It took a short while for me to realize that there was a whole big world outside of the survival of the fittest bubble that I knew so well; and soon, I was off to meet myself and those whom I would call my best friends. It came naturally, easily...they were all so different from anyone I had ever met. They were kind, genuine, and interested. I began to find a place for myself and it felt, for the first time, like home. Soon thereafter, these people knew all of my quirks and they began to get a glimpse of my wierdness and my fleshly attitudes. When I laughed, they laughed. When I cried, they cried (or they would quickly pour water on their faces when I wasn't looking so that I would think they were crying). Each time I turned a year older, they made 24 hours of it (sometimes 72); and when I was mean and terrible to them, they loved me back.
Three years later, I wake up everyday, still in shock at what I've found. Who are these people? Where did they come from? What in the world did I do to deserve this? And that is when it hits me. I didn't do anything, and I certainly don't deserve their friendships. I call each of them by the same name: Grace. It is because of the faithfulness of a promise that came long ago, that I find myself surrounded by God's most elite creations. They (you) will never understand the depth, width, breadth, and height of the love that I have for them (you) both individually and collectively.
Two months ago I said "See ya later" to my Auburn family and hopped on a jet to Europe. Since the day of my departure, I have received a letter(s) every week, e-mails every day, and prayers every hour. It all means so much to me. However, tonight I found myself to be lifted on to that big throne that I've been waiting for and it came in the form of a little brown box. It wasn't flashy or pleasing to the eye of the exterior, but what came from the inside of those cardboard walls, I will never forget.
As I ripped off the last strip of packing tape, out exploded red and yellow paper stuff (like easter basket grass). Hidden in it were all of my favorite things and letters filled with inside jokes and memories...plus some: my favorite candy, chicken salad (the kind without bird flu), a much needed book, decorations, a crazy pink feathered nail file, homemade cards, suckers, and even a pumpkin. I sat on my bed, my lap overflowing with goodies, and read a ridiculous number of letters. I ate my cookies and as the tears began to flow, I knew that after all of those years of praying and waiting, my harvest was here. I then found a CD hidden at the bottom of the box. It was entitled, "Life at Auburn." I threw it in my computer, expecting a playlist of our favorite songs. Instead, I found a video of messages from my cool friends, including an interview with the one and only Jason Morant (a much loved singer).
So, to my sweet friends:
You know who you are. Thank you, uncontrollably, for your undying care and enthusiasm. You are the reason I love my life as much as I do. Your support and encouragment and faith in my dreams allows me to see colors more vividly and even makes me enjoy eating things like squid and boar tongue. You will never be able to comprehend how you have shaped and seasoned my life, but in return, I hope that I can return (even half) the favor. May you be continually blessed for every breath you are given and may you, too, find yourselves on the throne of grace. I cherish you and praise Jesus for making you and molding you into the mirror image of Himself. Until we meet again, My love and thanks...
P.S. Whoever put in the Heath Bar, I love you the most.
I recall (easily) the lonliness, heartbreak, confusion, and stress of twelve years worth of waking up at 5:30 each morning to face another long day of school without friends. Oh, there were many acquaintences who taught me how to master the game of survival in the wave pool of alligators, I mean adolescents. There were few "friends" that came and went throughout my time there, but I never truly understood the terms "best friend," "attached at the hip," and "two of a kind." They were foreign concepts. I was a loner, or as my mom told me, set apart.
For the first 18 years of my life, we (my family) begged and pleaded with the Lord to provide faithful people my age for me to share the joys of life with. I distinctly remember my dad, so full of wisdom, telling me one afternoon to always love people. I was never to give anyone a foothold for accusation and it was certainly never a choice to add my two cents to the day's gossip column. He said that if I loved others the way that Jesus loved me, even if they left me on the side of the road to die a slow (social) death, one day I would be honored because of His name. On that day, He would take my unpredictable predators off of their seats of glory and He would lift me, in His lap, onto His throne and give them all front row seats to see it happen.
There have been many times that I have not heeded that advice; but, the picture of me, sitting in the lap of my Father, has never left me. Its vision has remained perfectly clear and I wondered constantly when my day of relief would come. Many times I grew tired of waiting, but it never failed. I was always reminded (and still am) to wait patiently. All is in due time...
I made it through the "wonder" years and found myself, after much deliberation, in a little place called Auburn. Maybe you've heard of it? It took a short while for me to realize that there was a whole big world outside of the survival of the fittest bubble that I knew so well; and soon, I was off to meet myself and those whom I would call my best friends. It came naturally, easily...they were all so different from anyone I had ever met. They were kind, genuine, and interested. I began to find a place for myself and it felt, for the first time, like home. Soon thereafter, these people knew all of my quirks and they began to get a glimpse of my wierdness and my fleshly attitudes. When I laughed, they laughed. When I cried, they cried (or they would quickly pour water on their faces when I wasn't looking so that I would think they were crying). Each time I turned a year older, they made 24 hours of it (sometimes 72); and when I was mean and terrible to them, they loved me back.
Three years later, I wake up everyday, still in shock at what I've found. Who are these people? Where did they come from? What in the world did I do to deserve this? And that is when it hits me. I didn't do anything, and I certainly don't deserve their friendships. I call each of them by the same name: Grace. It is because of the faithfulness of a promise that came long ago, that I find myself surrounded by God's most elite creations. They (you) will never understand the depth, width, breadth, and height of the love that I have for them (you) both individually and collectively.
Two months ago I said "See ya later" to my Auburn family and hopped on a jet to Europe. Since the day of my departure, I have received a letter(s) every week, e-mails every day, and prayers every hour. It all means so much to me. However, tonight I found myself to be lifted on to that big throne that I've been waiting for and it came in the form of a little brown box. It wasn't flashy or pleasing to the eye of the exterior, but what came from the inside of those cardboard walls, I will never forget.
As I ripped off the last strip of packing tape, out exploded red and yellow paper stuff (like easter basket grass). Hidden in it were all of my favorite things and letters filled with inside jokes and memories...plus some: my favorite candy, chicken salad (the kind without bird flu), a much needed book, decorations, a crazy pink feathered nail file, homemade cards, suckers, and even a pumpkin. I sat on my bed, my lap overflowing with goodies, and read a ridiculous number of letters. I ate my cookies and as the tears began to flow, I knew that after all of those years of praying and waiting, my harvest was here. I then found a CD hidden at the bottom of the box. It was entitled, "Life at Auburn." I threw it in my computer, expecting a playlist of our favorite songs. Instead, I found a video of messages from my cool friends, including an interview with the one and only Jason Morant (a much loved singer).
So, to my sweet friends:
You know who you are. Thank you, uncontrollably, for your undying care and enthusiasm. You are the reason I love my life as much as I do. Your support and encouragment and faith in my dreams allows me to see colors more vividly and even makes me enjoy eating things like squid and boar tongue. You will never be able to comprehend how you have shaped and seasoned my life, but in return, I hope that I can return (even half) the favor. May you be continually blessed for every breath you are given and may you, too, find yourselves on the throne of grace. I cherish you and praise Jesus for making you and molding you into the mirror image of Himself. Until we meet again, My love and thanks...
P.S. Whoever put in the Heath Bar, I love you the most.
posted by bargame at 6:38 AM
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