Captivation: Rest

Rest. It's often forgotten or over-looked or pushed for later, saying "I can rest when I'm dead." I've heard others say that phrase and I've even repeated it to myself.

We beg for simplicity. We try to remind ourselves to simplify--to downsize--to minimize. Then, the note gathers dust and life whizzes by.

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We dream of finding rest and contentment in idyllic places--tropical paradises.

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We like to pretend that our lives spin out of our control--not by our bidding, but by the fates of the universe.

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But what if we took hints from babies.

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They have got their priorities straight. We need rest. Yes, we can rest when we die. But I want to live life to fullest and that requires quality rest. Living fully includes resting fully.

So it's time to make a new list and live in a new way. And make room for rest.

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In light of this, what are you doing today to rest?

I'm here writing this blogpost. I'm attending a friend's junior recital tonight. I slept late this morning and went running at lunchtime. I built in this day of rest into my crazy busy schedule because I believe God knew something about us when he modeled resting on the 7th day.

Happy Rest!

Captivation: Book Publishing

I ran into an acquaintance today who has been working at getting his book published. I do dream of writing my own book and getting it published, but there's a ton of work involved.

Currently, I'm in the lowest ranks of an editorial department. I do the brunt work and the busy work and the work that no one else wants to do. And I'm totally okay with that. It's nice to know that me working on that not-fun-work opens up the editors to doing the important stuff. So my work counts for something! And the priceless experience of knowing how a publishing house works.

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Recently, I had the opportunity to read through the infamous "slush pile". This pile is the fear of every writer, but the true reality of the writer's life. A slush pile is the stack of unsolicited book proposals that an acquisitions editor receives. I read through 20 book proposals.

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Two of the biggest reasons that these proposals were rejected:
- no platform (aka no place to self-market their book)
- wrong subject matter for our publishing house

What we can learn from this.
Please research the publishing houses that you desire to submit your work to, making sure that they publish your genre and be ready to self-promote! Personally, self-promotion puts a bad taste in my mouth, but it is necessary.

Helping a fellow writer out.
So you interested in reading about a new author with a new book that you can get on Amazon or Barnes and Noble's? Allow me to introduce you to The Eliot Papers. Want it on the Nook or Kindle?

Captivation: Living the Daring Life

I'm gonna fess up. And now, I'm going to use good English--well, at least when it suits me.

I live a borrowed life.

Oh, wait. That's not what I wanted to share. I borrowed a book from the library. Okay, that's not so strange. But this book is called The Daring Female's Guide to Ecstatic Living.

check this.

Something about that title just spring out at me and starts my heart pumping. Who needs exercise anymore! Let's just skip to the heart-exciting and heart-rate-beating dreaming.

After reading a chapter, I accepted a skype phone call from a Spanish-speaking man. Did you freak? Yeah, me, too (Mom, we didn't exchange any information and we didn't chat with camera).

check this.

Speaking Spanish again, it was like sighing. Words came flipping back to me, but so did my Spanish struggles. And those reminders were not as welcome. But you have to accept the highs and lows, right?

So that was new. Speaking Spanish with a complete stranger.

A couple other new things flavoring life (my life specifically): dog-sitting (or trying not to sit on it, really), reading Harry Potter, vegetarian enchiladas, and dreams of boots with wedge heels.

check it.

So I'm a shoe-lover. Give me shoes. Please and thank you.

Oh, hey. How do you live a daring life?

Captivation: Restless Roving and Wild Whimsy

Lost like a feather in the wind. Roaming like a kite without a string. Wishing on missing eyelashes and unlucky pennies. Desiring, yearning, crying out for more.

found here

And searching for this something more.

Looking in the mirror, and seeing Discontentment staring into or out of your own eyes.

Gosh, darn it. Glare at Mr. Discontentment riling up your life. Oh, he's good and nice creating a stirring for not settling for less. But sometimes...the adventure that he tells you is in another country or in another state is sitting beside you on the couch.

Did you just glance to your side looking for adventure? Well, that's most certainly a good start. Glance again. From my seat, a book splits open prompted so by the leaning of Reading Like A Writer and my Verizon LG cell phone. All of this captured in the purple sheen of my half full water bottle. And look! You can even see what I saw. Okay, the purple sheen isn't showing up as much as it ought, but I promise it's there.

But I haven't even mentioned the best part. When I walked into this cafe, every customer lifted their heads to blandly acknowledge my presence. Oh, under the eye of this uncaring audience, I wanted to dart right back out of the door.

But, I didn't.

Instead, my eyes skirted around the already occupied tables looking for a little nook to fill with myself. And I found this couch already occupied and I asked the silver haired luncher with black round framed glasses if I could share this little couch with her.

Oh, wait! Let me tell you of the book that lays open beside me. It is a ridiculous book. It goads giggles and chases harsh or worried looks away. And before I know it; I desperately want to leap from my comfy little couch and dance on the tables.

Want me to promise that I won't do it?

A day is coming when I shall dance on a table. In some packed establishment. Of course, this is not exactly my scene. Yet, there are times when life thirsts for wild whimsy. This looks to be more my thing.

found here

And if I'm hearing correctly. The world is parched!

Here are some ideas to help you along with filling this thirst in yourself and the world. Please don't forget to grin gargantuously (i suppose that isn't a word, but it's having the right influence upon my face).

Roll down your windows when driving in the rain.
Doodle on the bottoms of your shoes.
Pretend you're a secret agent when you leave the house.
Talk to strangers (sometimes that scares me--but it's never been a bad experience)
Wear wild patterns together that people will question.
Dance instead of walking
Prance instead of running

what makes you feel wild? or makes you want to laugh loudly? or puts sparkles in your eyes! Please do share with me!

to jillian

I really should be sleeping. But I can't. My nerves are something. My eyes are dry. My stomach gets fluttery. And the house is quiet...so full of sleepers. But I cannot sleep. I just feel plain weird.

A dear friend of mine marries tomorrow to a man who is God filled and laughter giving. Watching their friendship and dating relationship develop has been awe-inspiring. I am left with crashing memories and quiveringly silent giggles. The growth that I've seen in my friend's life leaves me joyous for her and opens the desire in me for the same thing.

This week, I have entered the wedding vortex. I am not my own. I walk and talk at the bride's bidding and happily so! I want to fit their vision.

As a bridesmaid, I desire to support this new couple to the best of my ability. I am part of the witness that they ask me to stand beside them "in sickness and in health" type of way. I know that's what the groom and bride vow to each other. However, as a community, we vow these things to them as well.

People need community. Support. Friendship. Affirmation. We can't do it alone. And I am a part of this group. And I'm honored to be so and I desire to continue in this relationship with intentionality and honesty.

Jillian, I vow to encourage you, make you giggle, and drink tea with you. I plan to write you, visit you, and facebook you. And throughout life, I desire to always be pointing to Jesus Christ on the happy days and the sad days. I support your marriage.

Now, I really ought to try to sleep. My eyes are feeling stingy. My adrenalin seems to have slowed. Tomorrow promises to be long.

Captivation: Ruth

Like every other little girl in my Sunday school class, I wanted to find a Bible story heroine to emulate. Esther was too fancy and dramatic for me. My sister already shared judge Deborah’s name so I couldn’t choose her. Sarah laughed at God—probably not a good example to follow. And then, I met Ruth.

She shared my grandmother’s name. She was loyal, persistent, faithful, trusting, and lovely. In times of difficulty rather than choose the security of her father’s home and possible remarriage, she bound herself to Naomi. Why would she do that? Naomi freed her, but Ruth persisted. Why would Ruth choose to go to Bethlehem and possibly never return to her people? Why would Ruth choose to be the distrusted foreigner and the willing servant of Naomi? Why would Ruth choose Yahweh?

I didn’t know. I wanted to know. And so every year, I come back to the story of Ruth. And each time, I love her more. To me, Ruth lives out the definition of a Proverbs 31 woman although for the majority of her story we only know her as a widow. Life has been hard for her; yet, she still chooses to trust in Naomi and ultimately Yahweh.

My sophomore year at Bethel sitting under a mosquito net in Jarabocoa, Dominican Republic, I threw myself into the Bible. Rather than being a part of the Bethel experience like all of my friends, I lived with a Dominican family, struggled with a new language, and taught preschoolers in this new language. It was hard. I thought I would love every second of it. I didn’t. Paul’s letters comforted me even from 2000 years away. And Ruth, she gave me perspective.

I saw her working the fields of Boaz missing her family and the land where she was accepted. I saw Ruth’s tears that surely sprinkled the ground of the fields in her weaker moments as she realized that she would never return to Moab. When people called her cruel names, I recognized her resolute tensing of jaw and her eyes trained forward. I felt joy bloom in my own heart as Boaz showed her favor.

And I knew that in less than three months, I would return to my family, my country, my comfort zone—but forever leave Ruth in her foreign land. No longer would I deal with culturally confusing and bemusing things, but Ruth was destined to continue her struggle. Yet, Ruth had new hopes and dreams founded in this land where she would still always be stamped a foreigner simply because of her physical appearance. Ruth was different. So was I—in the D. R. She comforted me with her steadfastness. She set an example of cheerful obedience. She caused me to ask the question, “Would I voluntarily leave my family and culture forever to follow God?”

I don’t know. I do know that I desire to surrender the entirety of my life to Yahweh. If that means truly fulfilling the meaning of the name Barbara, so be it. As 2 Corinthians 3:18 says, “And we, with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory which comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” I want to live a life unveiled before man and God so that all may see my transformation into His image.

Ruth lived out quiet surrender of her own desires. For most of my life, I have hated the word “surrender”. To me, it was weakness. To me, it meant allowing others to call you mean names. No, I wanted to be a strong, independent woman. Imagine my surprise when I looked over my life and realized that every good thing in my life came after I surrendered.

Ruth surrendered her old life. She resigned whatever reputation she had in her own land. Ruth submitted her hopes of marriage to a Moab man when she left. She yielded to her mother-in-
law’s dreams of home. Voluntarily, Ruth relinquished the security of her culture.

God noted all of this. He raised her up. He gave her Boaz. He blessed their marriage
with children. And then, God permitted her to be a part of the bloodline for Jesus.

When I see Ruth’s life and her voluntary surrender, I recognize a woman that I want to emulate. As a side note, Ruth’s name means “friendship” stemming from Hebrew. I wonder if her name was always Ruth or if she was renamed.

courtesy of Loaves&Fishes

Gratitude

Thankfulness is the kind of thing that just strikes you in the gut when you least expect it. Chilling in the car, driving through the hills to my hometown, I'm just blown over by the absolute contrast of the trees against the sky. My heart lifts - ballooned by thankfulness. I have so much to be thankful for.

I watched Zombieland this week. Not the best movie, but it does leave a good feeling in your toes. One of the rules shared in the movie to survive the zombie infestation is simple. Enjoy the little things. EnJOY the little things.

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That's where attitude and gratitude and gratefulness come in. Life stinks, right? Well, choose to focus on those small little things. For example, I'm swamped with papers all due the same day (yeah, I know. what prof would do that?! Three of mine). In which case, I just have to choose to enjoy using my favorite pen as I read stacks of journal articles and scribble all over them. A pen is such a little thing, but it gives me cause to be thankful.

If you read this today, then please enjoy the little things. But, I'm actually hoping that you don't read this today (Thanksgiving Day) - why? Because I think you should be out, enjoying people in your life that love you best. Or maybe you ought to just be loving others better than you've been loved.

May you choose Gratitude always.

Living Lovely

Hands on the steering wheel and eyes trained on the road, I sat slouched in the driver’s seat headed towards home for a wedding. One of my best friends from high school sat next to me and her boyfriend lounged behind her in the backseat. Conversation flowed easily around school activities and life as we tried to make up for the months of minimal conversation and no visits. Sitting next to {J}, I could not help but notice that she and her boyfriend always seemed to be touching. Nothing was inappropriate. They just reveled in the other’s presence. An hour away from our destination, {J} climbed into the backseat with her boyfriend {P}. Suddenly, I became chauffer. I took the opportunity to ask them, “What have been the most challenging and growing thing about your relationship?” {P} thought for a moment and replied, “I have never been so known by another human being. It’s both good and terrifying.”

Reading through Crazy Love by Francis Chan, a chapter that resonated deeply with me used this title, “When You’re in Love.” As far as I know, I have never been in love. Yet, I see what love looks like. My mother is forever serving the widows on my street by doing chores for them, bringing them food, and just visiting them. That is love. My father sits on the couch every night and rubs my mother’s feet. That is love. The chapter gave the example of Grandma Clara who spent many hours in prayer and how just the sight of that space “would bring joy-filled tears and a deep anticipation of the next morning spent kneeling in His presence” (Chan 100). Upon reading that, I circled it and wrote in the margin, “May I be like this please?” During the summer, I delighted in spending hours with Jesus. One specific occasion, my cousins grumbled at the amount of time I had spent in devotion to my Lord Jesus. I could only smile and say, “This time is so good because during the school year I just don’t have the amount of time that I want to spend with Jesus.”

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When people see {J} and {P} together, their affection is apparent. If people cannot see their exchanged small smiles and eye connections, they can most definitely see their desire to be always touching. This is how I want to be with Jesus. I want my love for Him to be full of small smiles, heart connections, and hand holding.

Part of loving is giving. It means serving your neighbors, your friends, your spouse, and your co-workers. In the chapter entitled “Your Best Life … Later”, Chan talks about giving liberally and generously and God will bless it. With a red pen, I boxed this paragraph in writing beside it, “What does this look like?” Truly, I want to know what it is to give liberally and totally as often as possible. Giving of yourself and loving your neighbors is not easy. You have to go out of your way to find a way to serve those around you. When my family first moved into a new neighborhood, we knew no one. People did their own thing. Yet, when winter rolled around, my mom began a secret mission. When it snowed, we all bundled up and shoveled our elderly neighbors’ driveways. We were eventually found out, but not before we earned the name “Snow Angels.” My mother always had time to serve our neighbors. Now that I am not at home, I have to find new ways to serve. I don’t live in a neighborhood, but I do live in a community of a dormitory.

I deeply desire to be obsessed with Jesus and His heart. Francis Chan gives a “Profile of the Obsessed” in a chapter. With each section, I have underlined and scribbled notes by sections – each a plea that I might become a picture of this profile. Yet, it is so scary. Of course, I do not become obsessed in one day. It’s a step by step process of love. My father tells me often, “I love your mother more today than I did yesterday and even on our wedding day.” I always ask, “Really?” I just cannot believe that love can keep growing. My dad responds emphatically to my doubting question with a firm “yes”. If my father knew the difficulties, he would face in his marriage to my mom when they first started out he wouldn’t have been able to deal with it. Step by day, my dad loves my mom more deeply because of this daily journey. Human love is very different than the perfect love of a savior; however, this earthly love and examples of it from my parents have hugely influenced me to love more like Jesus in my own life.

Forever, I seem to disgust myself with my selfishness. Living in a family, you are always given a chance to serve family members. College is such a me-focused place. Of course, homework should be finished. Sleep is necessary. When I have the opportunity to serve, school seems to interfere. A lot of people would probably describe me as loving; yet, I know that I have so far to go. I desire to live in the Spirit and love people as Jesus did. If I love Jesus, generosity and obsession shall follow. Already, I love Jesus and I am generous while occasionally being obsessive. Of course, I want to be crazy in love with Jesus – that’s different than being a good person or good Christian.

Captivation: Perfectionism

Perfectionism.

(more on Perfectionism)

It eats my happiness.
Perfectionism creates a fear within me that I shall not be enough and that the work I do will not be enough to please those around me. Sometimes, it freezes me up so much that I can't move even a teeny tiny step forward.

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I'd love to be perfect. To be perfect would mean no mistakes and no fear of anything - after all, I would be perfect.

Perfectionism - "a personal standard, attitude, or philosophy that demands perfection and rejects anything less." (found at dictionary.com)

The pursuit of perfection is life-draining, throat-numbing, failure-focusing, hand-trembling, brain-short-circuiting, depression-inducing, workaholic-making, and just plain unsatisfying.

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Mistakes are rarely world-ending. After all, has the world ended yet? Nah, it still seems somewhat intact although it does seem to be hanging on by only a few threads in some places. Mistakes create learning experiences. Mistakes remind us that we are imperfect individuals (we can relate to complete strangers in our imperfections).

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Perfectionism. It puts a bad taste in my mouth. I am not perfect. I shall never be perfect. My desire to reach perfection is like trying to reach Nirvana. Impossible.

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I hate that I'm not perfect. I hate my brokeness. I'm not perfect and I have nothing to offer. And yet. And yet, a flawless and perfect God loves me. He chooses to pursue me, a girl who terrorized babysitters and teachers alike with my stubborn, pig-headed ways - a girl with a sullied heart. Although I was once a curse, He's has turned me into a blessing. This Creator God who could have turned away from His creation chooses rather to turn toward His creation with love. He bought my heart with His life (when I give it away for much less). He died for me. He scarred Himself for me.

I am imperfect meaning that I'm a bit broken in places. It's a good thing that this God who loves me is in the business of healing.

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Instead of chasing perfectionism, I think I will chill in the presence of a perfect God who accepts me in my imperfection and is making me into something new.

Captivation: Women of Gaza

I am captivated by this image taken by Tanya Habjouqa in her series entitled Women of Gaza.

I implore you to go look through the Women of Gaza photography HERE.