I hope in Mercy

This morning I am thinking about the Babylonian Exile. It has been a year now since Chris died, as well as the death of many other things in between that time; the death of a vision, relationships, and people that I love dearly. I have often wondered how the Jewish Nation must have felt when being invaded, and to their surprise, defeated. I am sure many struggled with offense saying, ‘You promised, God, and now You have forsaken us!!’ Many probably resolved in their heart that the Lord was a liar, not even considering the warnings of the prophet Isaiah.

When I consider the events in my life over this last year, I feel as though I can relate to Israel. I think of hurricane Katrina, and other natural disasters that have hit our globe recently, and consider the way it must have affected the people. There is a devastation that hits the heart of man when his life is invaded and exiled, whether emotionally, circumstantially, naturally, or forcefully. You lose yourself, shaken to the core, and the only thing that remains is the core of who you really are. The reality of your heart becomes exposed when the props are removed.

I like the way Mike Bickle explains growing older in the Lord. He communicated how when he was younger he often looked at people who had been saved for 30-40 years, and thought about how they must enter into the presence of the Lord so easily and their knowledge of Him must be so vast. He said ‘Now that I am getting on in years, I’m realizing it is more of a miracle that they have simply continued to say ‘yes’ to the Lord. They have experienced a hundred disappointments and a hundred failures, and they had to work through the bitterness, mistrust, and offense that naturally comes in those times to say ‘yes’ again to the Lord”

Among the defeats and invasions that are sure to come in life, I don’t want to lay myself in the dust to be trampled and held captive to the worldly grief that leads to death. Rather, I aspire to choose faithfulness as Daniel did. He was exiled and forced to serve in the king’s court in Babylon. Even through the insecurity of what was to become of Israel and the promises of God, Daniel lived a fasted lifestyle, remaining faithful to God. I love in Daniel 7 when he has the vision of God on the throne, I imagine what an encouragement it must have been to him. Like the Lord saying “It’s still on, I’m going to do all I promised!!”

“I was watching in the night visions, and behold, One like the Son of Man, coming with the clouds of heaven! He came to the Ancient of Days, and they brought Him near before Him. Then to Him was given dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve Him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and His kingdom the one which shall not be destroyed.” Daniel 7:13-14


I believe this is something to be learned in our hearts, amidst all the trials, set our minds on the throne, just as Daniel’s vision. Our hope is in His mercies that never end (Lam 3:23-24), our hope is in His promise to return and redeem(Hab 2:3, Ps 130:5-7), our help is in the name of the Lord (Ps 124:8)!!!

‘ “For a mere moment I have forsaken you,
But with great mercies I will gather you.
With a little wrath I hid My face from you for a moment;
But with everlasting kindness I will have mercy on you,”
Says the LORD, your Redeemer. “
Isaiah 54:7-8

I'm in the last week of my internship here at IHOP-ATL. It's been a good run, to say the least. The Lord has lavished His kindness on me in a different way then He has ever before. I feel like I am just now getting to know Him, but I recall feeling that way alot in my life. It must be because He is unsearchable :)!
I am grateful to have gotten to know the other interns better, and to have gleaned from the leaders here. During our internship we were privileged to participate in the 5 year anniversary and the leadership conference as well. I feel a bit spoiled by it all!!
The next chapter is going to be a busy one, before I can come on staff here, but I believe His grace will see me through it!
Truly,
Kirsten

An Excerpt

I have been reading 'The Last of the Mohicans' sporadically over the past few months. Unlike most books, I find I want to take my time. This book isn't so much about the story as it is about the eloquent choice in words and arrangements for me. Something has been lost in our modern day literature; a richness. It's a difference between Hershey's and old fashioned fudge.

Towards the beginning of the novel there is a part in which a few Indians guiding two rich women and a young gentleman. The Indians are interested in what the youths talents or trade is, and they respond with music.

" 'Tis a strange calling!" muttered Hawkeye, with an inward laugh, "to go through life, like a catbird, mocking all the ups and downs that may happen to come out of other men's throats. Well, friend, I suppose it is your gift, and musn't be denied any more than if 'twas shooting, or some other better inclination. Let us hear what you can do in that way....

...The air was solemn and slow. At times it rose to the fullest compass of the rich voices of the females, who hung over their little book in holy excitement, and again it sank so low, that the rushing of the waters ran through their melody, like a hollow accompaniment. The natural taste and true ear of David governed and modified the sounds to suit the confined cavern, every crevice, and cranny of which was filled with the thrilling notes of their flexible voices. the Indians riveted their eyes on the rocks, and listened with an attention that seemed to turn them into stone. But the scout, who had placed his chin in his hand, with an expression of cold indifference, gradually suffered his rigid features to relax, until, as verse succeeded verse, he felt his iron nature subdued, while his recollection was carried back to boyhood, when his ears had been accustomed to listen to similar sounds of praise, in settlements of the colony. His roving eyes began to moisten, and before the hymn was ended, scalding tears rolled out of fountains that had long seemed dry, and followed each other down those cheeks, that had oftener felt the storms of heaven than any testimonials of weakness. The singers were dwelling on one of those low, dying chords, which the ear devours with such greedy rapture, as if conscious that it is about to lose them...."

pg 54

What simple beauty! I felt this passage have the same effect on me as the music did on the young scout.

My eyes devour this literature in slow greedy raptures...

waking up early

Have you ever seen the sparrows fly from bush to bush?
Or the white cat basking in the sunlight amongst the spry?
Have you ever smelled the bread factory at 7:43?
Yes, it smells the best at 7:43, and it's morning.
Have you ever seen the beauty of a village in the rising sun?
It's so much that the tired flees from your eyes.
Have you ever seen the messy frock of hair on top of the corn stalk?
They laze out of their beds in slow patience.
Have you ever taken a bus to go down the mountain?
You can see fog from above, feeling closer to God.
Oh, but have you ever seen Bazna in morning?
Yes, then you'd know what I'm talking about.

just paper

"These incidents made the youth ponder. It was revealed to him that he had been a barbarian, a beast. He had fought like a pagan who defends his religion. Regarding it, he saw that it was fine, wild, and, in some ways, easy. He had been a tremendous figure, no doubt. By this struggle he has overcome obstacles which he has admitted to be mountains. they had fallen like paper peaks, and he was now what he called a hero. And he had not been aware of the process. He had slept and, awakening, found himself a knight." --The Red Badge of Courage

I find that I can relate to Henry Flemming (the youth) in this book. I feel, now more then ever, that my life is like a battle front. Barbaric, inhumane, struggling for survival, wearisome, wounded, and death in plain sight surrounding me.
I had my rifle at the ready at your funeral.
My head throbs and pulsates, reminding me of my wounds.
I move from front to front, and it all looks the same; death, dead, decay.
Yet, there is an origami sun in the sky,
eloquent clouds sewn into the soft blue mass,
water rippling in the same direction as always,
and the wind who faithfully combs my hair into tangles.

I do hope these Mountains before me will fall like paper peaks, I don't have will to fight those as well. So I'll throw little mustard seeds at them until they topple to the ground.
after all, they're just paper.

I miss
I want
I am needing
Oh, You are still good to me, Dad!!

I want to rest, and awake a victor!

resurrect me

I died with you that day
water poured from my face
as a car crashed into a hydrant
the pain exudes from my veins
my heart failed
I screamed
I threw up
I wailed
and then...
death subdued me

I was a walking corpse
a dead limb
a plumb picked
and spit out
I was trampled to vinegar
and then...
silence

I flew 5,000 miles away
I sit sipping my coffee
as I listen to John sing
'10,000 rivers run red like my veins'
suddenly before me
like a child's pop up book
beauty is unfolded
and then...
a beat of my heart, a breath in my lung

I feel the little child in me awake
I feel a piece of me shifted
as I listen to John sing
'I've overcome you world'
I feel as the woman in front of me
her hair the same shade of red as her jacket
and then...
I can see again

I see:
The little boy troubled
the young girl doubled
a man's shirt that says
'Truth is nobody'
The Jewish man; glasses and a cigarette
the old woman in love
and then...
beautiful sound like a symphony

I am slowly coming back to myself
the thing that surprises me so;
it is all so much more beautiful the second time
the clouds and all that I hated when I awoke this morning
are no longer trite after the waking 10 minutes ago
HE is resurrecting the dead in me

I am scared of letting you go, Chris
but I know that can never happen
until then...
I'm alive and breathing in the beauty

writing from the train

I am on a train to Cluj.
I dread writing, because I am worn of expression.
Even the thought of a mere pen and paper gives me staticity in my temples.
staticity isn't a real word.
I am frustrated right now.
When I cry I have this aching pressure in my chest.
I like to think of it as butterflies to the masochistic.
A few hours ago I was on the mountain top, where the Lord was romancing me.
Now I am fighting for my life, in a valley somewhere in the thick of war.
the seasons are changing too fast.
I am growing in love and longing too fast, it's like weeds shooting up amongst the spry.
The thing I am most frustrated about, and the thing that makes me fitful, not only in sleep but in life; you're still gone.
I have lost my will for many things:
I am easily upset
easily hurt
easily emotional
not every plate, guitar, or even cigar in this world could curb the way I feel right now.
I want to be over it
I want to be ok
I want Chris
I want to be patient
I want to love freely
I want to be alone
I want to be the crowd
I want to be understood
I want to be allowed to be angry
I want to be silent
I want to trust
I want to be done with the process
I want to configure time
I want to squish the world like a grape
I want to declare my love over and over like a childish child
I want to be old and almost done
I want to be young with wonder abounding
I want to want only YOU
I want to be honest
I want to be known
I want to know the Lord
I want to know how to be
I don't want to control
I hate everything that is happening
I love everything the Lord is doing in the happening
I don't want to be asked "what's wrong?"
I don't want everyone to walk on egg shells around me
I thought today would be different, but it isn't
everyday is the same since you left, and I don't know what to do
I am wanting