I lost the necklace that my mom bought for me while in Ireland. It was one of my favorite things and one of my saddest losses.
Randomly today, while in Washington, Heather walked into my room, at on my bed, and picked something up. "Hey, Caitlin, here's your necklace." I looked up from the journal entry I was writing to see what she was referring to. "OH MY GOODNESS!" I couldn't believe it--my Celtic cross! I was in awe that I found my necklace in Washington, on the opposite coast of where I lost it.
I was thanking Jesus a lot. And I also put it on right away. :)
Monday, May 31, 2010
Painted Barn Exploration
"Love...always hopes, always perseveres."
[1 corinthians 13]
Heather and I drove by this painted barn on the way to church last week, and I, being the Washington tourist, didn't want to leave without taking pictures. So today, a week later, we ventured out after church (and after the rain calmed down) to take pictures.
I didn't realize what many of the painted words said/meant until arriving at the destination. The obvious draw to the barn came from the colors and the big HOPE and WHAT'S YOUR STORY inscriptions. The rest is not as clear until you get close.
In many places on the barn RIP was written, followed by various names. I climbed into the barn through a door on one side so that I could get to the part where HOPE was written. As I walked inside, something sad swept over me. Heather later told me that for a while, a lot of kids would come out to the barn and draw as a way of remembering friends who found life to be too hard and eventually gave up on life altogether.
I loved the colors and the positive messages, yet I couldn't get away from the tragic element that permeated the whole thing. The faces of those who I knew growing up, who didn't know how to continue on, flood my memory even now.
The barn reminded me of the fight we are in for hope and the often masked truth that there is a big story each of us is telling with our lives. Each one.
I felt the fight come back in me to first of all recognize that such a hope needs to flood my heart, and secondly that it should be so strong that others receive hope from my heart. I know that may sound co-dependent or like a savior complex, but I feel like it might be part of becoming love.
The painted barn held a lesson for me today; maybe many lessons to come. I won't forget the mixture of joy and grief that I felt as I explored this work of art. I won't be okay with living as a resounding gong or a clanging cymbol. Not when what is needed is real, raw hope that says, "Yes, that story that you're telling with your life...it is big. It does matter. You matter."
Friday, May 28, 2010
defining the principles
There is so much ahead, both joys and heartache. That's life. But there are certain principles I never want to depart from in life, regardless of what the journey ahead holds. Those constants are what I'm working out in my heart.
-honoring and loving God first, above all
-honoring people--seeing them with Abba's eyes--treating them as He desires, even if it hurts
-honesty
-giving God all glory
-Romans 16:19
-no mattter what, no loss of hope or coldness of love--nothing is worth allowing love or hope to be depleted in my heart.
-honoring and loving God first, above all
-honoring people--seeing them with Abba's eyes--treating them as He desires, even if it hurts
-honesty
-giving God all glory
-Romans 16:19
-no mattter what, no loss of hope or coldness of love--nothing is worth allowing love or hope to be depleted in my heart.
Could I?
Could I run away from everything, and in the process, run right into You? Right into Your plans for me?
"These Are Great Days"
[churchill]
I read that in the gift store of the underground seattle tour.
This trip has been good for my heart. I've climbed through trees, walked in Vancouver's Chinatown, walked underneath a city, met a random poet, listened to multiple street musicians, increased the odd fascination I have with sailboats, consumed huge amounts of bubble tea, walked across a huge (and high) swinging bridge, interrupted the set where a tv show was being filmed, climbed up cliffs and sat down on rocks overlooking incredible landscape. And the whole time I felt words come back--the desire to write and to articulate things returned. Even when it seems like no amount of description can do life justice, at least I can try.
As I was flying over the Columbia River and the Cascade Mountains just a few minutes away from landing in Seattle, I wrote in my journal,
"May the spirit of the west destroy my fears and my boxes."
That remains my prayer.
These ARE great days and life IS beautiful. But not all is right. Because it is not all right, there is still a need for the prophet's voice and the poet's plea and the healer's touch. There is still a need for voices of justice, who understand the Father's heart and can bring life into places of darkness. This is something I can't get away from because my heart feels the call of such a ministry...of such a lifestyle.
And so my thoughts turn to the holiness of daily life and the moments I can give life with this single life I've been given. What else is there to live for?
And again my thoughts spin. Are there moments in history where kings become prophets and find the courage to risk throne and life for the sake of what is right and just? I wonder.
I wonder. And wander. Not aimlessly. Just in search of life and truth.
"I will say of the Lord, 'He is my refuge and my fortress; My God, in Him I will trust.'"
[psalm 91:2]
And in the words of my mama, who addressed my fears of the future with this wisdom:
"Love Jesus, grow in intimacy with Him. Enjoy Him--learn His walk of love, peace. He has a plan that's magnificent."
Ah yes, these are great days.
I read that in the gift store of the underground seattle tour.
This trip has been good for my heart. I've climbed through trees, walked in Vancouver's Chinatown, walked underneath a city, met a random poet, listened to multiple street musicians, increased the odd fascination I have with sailboats, consumed huge amounts of bubble tea, walked across a huge (and high) swinging bridge, interrupted the set where a tv show was being filmed, climbed up cliffs and sat down on rocks overlooking incredible landscape. And the whole time I felt words come back--the desire to write and to articulate things returned. Even when it seems like no amount of description can do life justice, at least I can try.
As I was flying over the Columbia River and the Cascade Mountains just a few minutes away from landing in Seattle, I wrote in my journal,
"May the spirit of the west destroy my fears and my boxes."
That remains my prayer.
These ARE great days and life IS beautiful. But not all is right. Because it is not all right, there is still a need for the prophet's voice and the poet's plea and the healer's touch. There is still a need for voices of justice, who understand the Father's heart and can bring life into places of darkness. This is something I can't get away from because my heart feels the call of such a ministry...of such a lifestyle.
And so my thoughts turn to the holiness of daily life and the moments I can give life with this single life I've been given. What else is there to live for?
And again my thoughts spin. Are there moments in history where kings become prophets and find the courage to risk throne and life for the sake of what is right and just? I wonder.
I wonder. And wander. Not aimlessly. Just in search of life and truth.
"I will say of the Lord, 'He is my refuge and my fortress; My God, in Him I will trust.'"
[psalm 91:2]
And in the words of my mama, who addressed my fears of the future with this wisdom:
"Love Jesus, grow in intimacy with Him. Enjoy Him--learn His walk of love, peace. He has a plan that's magnificent."
Ah yes, these are great days.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Come, My Beloved, Hear from Me
by Robert Louis Stevenson
COME, my beloved, hear from me
Tales of the woods or open sea.
Let our aspiring fancy rise
A wren's flight higher toward the skies;
Or far from cities, brown and bare,
Play at the least in open air.
In all the tales men hear us tell
Still let the unfathomed ocean swell,
Or shallower forest sound abroad
Below the lonely stars of God;
In all, let something still be done,
Still in a corner shine the sun,
Slim-ankled maids be fleet of foot,
Nor man disown the rural flute.
Still let the hero from the start
In honest sweat and beats of heart
Push on along the untrodden road
For some inviolate abode.
Still, O beloved, let me hear
The great bell beating far and near-
The odd, unknown, enchanted gong
That on the road hales men along,
That from the mountain calls afar,
That lures a vessel from a star,
And with a still, aerial sound
Makes all the earth enchanted ground.
Love, and the love of life and act
Dance, live and sing through all our furrowed tract;
Till the great God enamoured gives
To him who reads, to him who lives,
That rare and fair romantic strain
That whoso hears must hear again.
COME, my beloved, hear from me
Tales of the woods or open sea.
Let our aspiring fancy rise
A wren's flight higher toward the skies;
Or far from cities, brown and bare,
Play at the least in open air.
In all the tales men hear us tell
Still let the unfathomed ocean swell,
Or shallower forest sound abroad
Below the lonely stars of God;
In all, let something still be done,
Still in a corner shine the sun,
Slim-ankled maids be fleet of foot,
Nor man disown the rural flute.
Still let the hero from the start
In honest sweat and beats of heart
Push on along the untrodden road
For some inviolate abode.
Still, O beloved, let me hear
The great bell beating far and near-
The odd, unknown, enchanted gong
That on the road hales men along,
That from the mountain calls afar,
That lures a vessel from a star,
And with a still, aerial sound
Makes all the earth enchanted ground.
Love, and the love of life and act
Dance, live and sing through all our furrowed tract;
Till the great God enamoured gives
To him who reads, to him who lives,
That rare and fair romantic strain
That whoso hears must hear again.
Come, Here Is Adieu To The City
by Robert Louis Stevenson
COME, here is adieu to the city
And hurrah for the country again.
The broad road lies before me
Watered with last night's rain.
The timbered country woos me
With many a high and bough;
And again in the shining fallows
The ploughman follows the plough.
The whole year's sweat and study,
And the whole year's sowing time,
Comes now to the perfect harvest,
And ripens now into rhyme.
For we that sow in the Autumn,
We reap our grain in the Spring,
And we that go sowing and weeping
Return to reap and sing.
Robert Louis Stevenson
COME, here is adieu to the city
And hurrah for the country again.
The broad road lies before me
Watered with last night's rain.
The timbered country woos me
With many a high and bough;
And again in the shining fallows
The ploughman follows the plough.
The whole year's sweat and study,
And the whole year's sowing time,
Comes now to the perfect harvest,
And ripens now into rhyme.
For we that sow in the Autumn,
We reap our grain in the Spring,
And we that go sowing and weeping
Return to reap and sing.
Robert Louis Stevenson
Friday, May 14, 2010
today we live
I walked barefoot in grass today with a camera in hand and nothing to do except to notice things I often miss. Pure brilliance.
On the journey I came across a spider inside his web and tried to take a good picture, but the zoom wasn't the best. He still made me think. It must have taken a long time to build that web--a house that could easily be destroyed by my weak hand. But even if the web was demolished, the spider would still be a spider. Displacement wouldn't ruin identity. He would still know what he was made to do, and he would continue to do it.
I build houses too. Which is okay. They serve their purpose for seasons. But eventually the time comes to move...to trust that another place will be found where a structure can be built for a season. I'm not sure where to go with these thoughts. That's all I've got. I am still very impressed by the spider's persistence to build a web. Maybe the hard work is not in vain? i don't see how it could be, if that is the Creator's design. I think tapping into design must be the most powerful force in the world. It probably doesn't happen without elements of fear, yet can't happen when fear is in control.
Thoughts of having a future and a hope also fill my heart. Expansive dreams and unlimited faith. The stuff of legends and myths. Discipline because there is a vision bigger than doubts...and because on the other side of obedience is salvation.
Today we live. Today I live. I will walk through grass today. Maybe with shoes on concrete tomorrow. But wherever my feet hit, that doesn't change the design that the Creator weaved before the foundations of the earth, before time even had a name or system. That puts my heart at ease. To find my design, my "for such a time as this" purpose...that is what I'm after. To know the Potter and to surrender as the clay to His hands.
On the journey I came across a spider inside his web and tried to take a good picture, but the zoom wasn't the best. He still made me think. It must have taken a long time to build that web--a house that could easily be destroyed by my weak hand. But even if the web was demolished, the spider would still be a spider. Displacement wouldn't ruin identity. He would still know what he was made to do, and he would continue to do it.
I build houses too. Which is okay. They serve their purpose for seasons. But eventually the time comes to move...to trust that another place will be found where a structure can be built for a season. I'm not sure where to go with these thoughts. That's all I've got. I am still very impressed by the spider's persistence to build a web. Maybe the hard work is not in vain? i don't see how it could be, if that is the Creator's design. I think tapping into design must be the most powerful force in the world. It probably doesn't happen without elements of fear, yet can't happen when fear is in control.
Thoughts of having a future and a hope also fill my heart. Expansive dreams and unlimited faith. The stuff of legends and myths. Discipline because there is a vision bigger than doubts...and because on the other side of obedience is salvation.
Today we live. Today I live. I will walk through grass today. Maybe with shoes on concrete tomorrow. But wherever my feet hit, that doesn't change the design that the Creator weaved before the foundations of the earth, before time even had a name or system. That puts my heart at ease. To find my design, my "for such a time as this" purpose...that is what I'm after. To know the Potter and to surrender as the clay to His hands.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Indiana Country...definitely a whole new world
I am currently in Indiana. I left Virginia Beach on Sunday evening, stayed with my mom and sister in Williamsburg that night, and left the next morning for Maryland. Once I got home, I had about an hour to both unpack two years worth of my life onto the floor of my basement (via the unloading of my stuffed car), and then quickly pack a small bag in order to travel to a state I've never visited, working on a project for which I don't feel qualified (besides having a lot of passion for the documentary topic).
I like Indiana. It's different than any place I've visited; very spacious.
Today my friends and I went to get our first interview for the documentary. It was amazing to sit in the room and listen to the story of a man who has lived many more years than me. He is a former teacher who loves playing music. Just a few years ago he found out he has a terminal illness. As he started to share about first discovering the illness and receiving the doctor's report that gave him two to nine years to live, his eyes started welling up and a single tear went down his right cheek. I was the one interviewing him, and I almost lost it. Then came his next statement. He began to share about how thankful he is to have the chance to still be alive and to learn to love the Lord even more.
Even after two years of being in a school where we talk incessantly about stories and how they can move people, I still get the strength kicked out of my knees when I listen to stories like this man's. I feel humbled to know that men like him exist, who have walked through dark valleys and still there is a song of praise on their lips.
Right now we are back home, preparing the next days schedule where we will accompany the man to his morning hang out at the local gas station. He and his friends meet there every morning at 7 a.m. to have coffee together and to fellowship. I'm really excited. My friends, Joe and Dan, just went outside to play frisbee, and I'm here on the floor of this home in Indiana, trying to collect my thoughts and unpack the last two weeks. It may take a lot longer than the few minutes I have at the moment.
However, I did have a chance to read over some of the journal entries I wrote back in April (when I actually had time to journal). I'm glad that I did. They reminded me of some things...including a conversation I had with my roommate Audrey, who, when I told her how inadequate I was feeling in certain areas, replied, "I know you are trying to be nice, buy you not acknowledging God's anointing on you could reduce His ability to use you..."
Some journal thoughts...
___________________________________________________
"He has delivered us from darkness and conveyed us into the kingdom of the Son of His love."
Challenge of next season: stop hiding. stop allowing fear to hold me back from stepping out.
I am not aimless. i'm being prepared by my Father, and He is wisdom.
What I feel stirring in my heart: I'm called to love. To see heaven invade earth. To see my generation walk in sonship. To see right thinking restored.
I am excited for wild country ahead. I want to be brave and honest, but too often I find myself participating in gossip and bringing dishonor to those who God loves. I find myself caught in the tension of wanting to be a leader and wanting to be a loner. There are so many things that I don't understand, and sometimes I grow weary with trying to figure them out or with listening to others talk like they've figured them out.
______________________________________
And I think I've started to scratch the surface of why Joan of Arc and Samwise and Joseph (the husband of Mary) are some of the characters (both in fiction and non-fiction) that I look up to...but I will save that for another blog.
I like Indiana. It's different than any place I've visited; very spacious.
Today my friends and I went to get our first interview for the documentary. It was amazing to sit in the room and listen to the story of a man who has lived many more years than me. He is a former teacher who loves playing music. Just a few years ago he found out he has a terminal illness. As he started to share about first discovering the illness and receiving the doctor's report that gave him two to nine years to live, his eyes started welling up and a single tear went down his right cheek. I was the one interviewing him, and I almost lost it. Then came his next statement. He began to share about how thankful he is to have the chance to still be alive and to learn to love the Lord even more.
Even after two years of being in a school where we talk incessantly about stories and how they can move people, I still get the strength kicked out of my knees when I listen to stories like this man's. I feel humbled to know that men like him exist, who have walked through dark valleys and still there is a song of praise on their lips.
Right now we are back home, preparing the next days schedule where we will accompany the man to his morning hang out at the local gas station. He and his friends meet there every morning at 7 a.m. to have coffee together and to fellowship. I'm really excited. My friends, Joe and Dan, just went outside to play frisbee, and I'm here on the floor of this home in Indiana, trying to collect my thoughts and unpack the last two weeks. It may take a lot longer than the few minutes I have at the moment.
However, I did have a chance to read over some of the journal entries I wrote back in April (when I actually had time to journal). I'm glad that I did. They reminded me of some things...including a conversation I had with my roommate Audrey, who, when I told her how inadequate I was feeling in certain areas, replied, "I know you are trying to be nice, buy you not acknowledging God's anointing on you could reduce His ability to use you..."
Some journal thoughts...
___________________________________________________
"He has delivered us from darkness and conveyed us into the kingdom of the Son of His love."
Challenge of next season: stop hiding. stop allowing fear to hold me back from stepping out.
I am not aimless. i'm being prepared by my Father, and He is wisdom.
What I feel stirring in my heart: I'm called to love. To see heaven invade earth. To see my generation walk in sonship. To see right thinking restored.
I am excited for wild country ahead. I want to be brave and honest, but too often I find myself participating in gossip and bringing dishonor to those who God loves. I find myself caught in the tension of wanting to be a leader and wanting to be a loner. There are so many things that I don't understand, and sometimes I grow weary with trying to figure them out or with listening to others talk like they've figured them out.
______________________________________
And I think I've started to scratch the surface of why Joan of Arc and Samwise and Joseph (the husband of Mary) are some of the characters (both in fiction and non-fiction) that I look up to...but I will save that for another blog.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
I am a college graduate as of two days ago.
I wrote that as a declarative sentence because I am still waiting for it to sink in. But man am I excited. :)
Today was Mother's Day. I went with my parents to a church in Williamsburg, where they were staying for the weekend. A woman prayed for me...
keys to the kingdom
wisdom
I will not miss my destiny
more faith
protection for my faith
faith for the impossible
Her prayer brought a tangible refreshing to my spirit. I left feeling my heart start to dream again...start to ask again for God to give me visions for the impossible.
At my commencement, the man who spoke ended his speech with something like this:
"you are a son/daughter of the king. that makes you a prince/ princess. Conduct yourselves accordingly."
My car is stuffed to the point of being close to dangerous, and I am heading north. As I journey home to my family, that last statement will stick with me as I begin to step out into the new season...
"Conduct yourself accordingly. You are representing a King."
I wrote that as a declarative sentence because I am still waiting for it to sink in. But man am I excited. :)
Today was Mother's Day. I went with my parents to a church in Williamsburg, where they were staying for the weekend. A woman prayed for me...
keys to the kingdom
wisdom
I will not miss my destiny
more faith
protection for my faith
faith for the impossible
Her prayer brought a tangible refreshing to my spirit. I left feeling my heart start to dream again...start to ask again for God to give me visions for the impossible.
At my commencement, the man who spoke ended his speech with something like this:
"you are a son/daughter of the king. that makes you a prince/ princess. Conduct yourselves accordingly."
My car is stuffed to the point of being close to dangerous, and I am heading north. As I journey home to my family, that last statement will stick with me as I begin to step out into the new season...
"Conduct yourself accordingly. You are representing a King."
Friday, May 7, 2010
jumbled thoughts
"Amazing love, now what else shall I need? Your name brings life, it's more than the air I breathe. My world was changed when Your love You gave to me. My purpose found in all that You want for me. And I found myself in You, Lord."
It's here. Graduation. They keep telling me that the world is wide open, where hopefully the path ahead will mostly consist of wind behind the back and expanding vision for the journey ahead. However, at the moment I feel like the worst communicator in the world and every thought is a jumbled mess and that is not making things look up for a journalism major. There is nothing profound in these thoughts that feel like a ping pong ball in the middle of the most intense competition. No rest. Hopefully after tomorrow I'll have time to process enough to write an understandable blog. But here's what I got today...
----------
I'm ready to get moving.
Yet, some things still feel unfinished. Maybe that's how transition always feels. Maybe it's never a pretty little knot that ties up seasons.
What I feel more than anything is that now is the proving ground. The bubble is popped and the ziplock bag unsealed. How will I live? What kind of person will I be? What does the future look like? Who owns my heart? Will I live with passion in my heart or get burnt out, resulting in insincerity?
It's a fight.
I need Jesus. If I'm gonna keep the fire alive--if I'm gonna stay genuine and grounded--it's only in Him that my life has any purpose. If there is anything that college has taught me, it's that this life is miserable without Him. And I need to know that if it was just me and Him--if it ended up that when it came down to the wire, He was the only friend left standing by my side--I would be okay.
So now comes the reassessment and the refocus.
--------
And part of this reassessment process includes the feeling that I will never have enough words or actions to express how thankful I am for the people in my life who have impacted me in the most brilliant of ways. Professors, new friends and old friends, roommates (who are also friends), family, people who challenged me to grow in character...etc. etc. etc.
so many faces come to mind. so many people who i find incredibly stunning. i am so thankful for them.
-------
grrr...
bottom line:
...and all I want to do/all I want to do/is worship You.
It's here. Graduation. They keep telling me that the world is wide open, where hopefully the path ahead will mostly consist of wind behind the back and expanding vision for the journey ahead. However, at the moment I feel like the worst communicator in the world and every thought is a jumbled mess and that is not making things look up for a journalism major. There is nothing profound in these thoughts that feel like a ping pong ball in the middle of the most intense competition. No rest. Hopefully after tomorrow I'll have time to process enough to write an understandable blog. But here's what I got today...
----------
I'm ready to get moving.
Yet, some things still feel unfinished. Maybe that's how transition always feels. Maybe it's never a pretty little knot that ties up seasons.
What I feel more than anything is that now is the proving ground. The bubble is popped and the ziplock bag unsealed. How will I live? What kind of person will I be? What does the future look like? Who owns my heart? Will I live with passion in my heart or get burnt out, resulting in insincerity?
It's a fight.
I need Jesus. If I'm gonna keep the fire alive--if I'm gonna stay genuine and grounded--it's only in Him that my life has any purpose. If there is anything that college has taught me, it's that this life is miserable without Him. And I need to know that if it was just me and Him--if it ended up that when it came down to the wire, He was the only friend left standing by my side--I would be okay.
So now comes the reassessment and the refocus.
--------
And part of this reassessment process includes the feeling that I will never have enough words or actions to express how thankful I am for the people in my life who have impacted me in the most brilliant of ways. Professors, new friends and old friends, roommates (who are also friends), family, people who challenged me to grow in character...etc. etc. etc.
so many faces come to mind. so many people who i find incredibly stunning. i am so thankful for them.
-------
grrr...
bottom line:
...and all I want to do/all I want to do/is worship You.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Move Forward
"...our task, as image-bearing, God-loving, Christ-shaped, Spirit-filled Christians, following Christ and shaping our world, is to announce redemption to the world that has discovered its fallenness, to announce healing to the world that has discovered its brokenness, to proclaim love and trust to the world that knows only exploitation, fear and suspicion."
-N.T. Wright
The Challenge of Jesus
184
-N.T. Wright
The Challenge of Jesus
184
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