Friday, February 27, 2009

thoughts on patience.

"i want patience--and i want it now!" that's a favorite phrase of my friend elyse.

we joke about this phrase from time to time, as we gab about waiting on God for the "right" guy, the "better" job, the fulfillment of the many earthly desires we hope for. some days that phrase is harder for me to swallow, especially when i am part of such a fast-paced culture: one with drive-thru-everythings and "instant messaging," microwaveable meals and automatic bill pay.

today i'm having a hard time with the idea of patience. i feel like a little kid looking through the glass window of a candy shop (or i guess for me, an ice cream parlor) and i can see all the lovely flavors and colors and toppings but i don't get to go in. not today. maybe that's not the best analogy, but i feel like that kid. i want something that i have to wait another day for. well, not just a day. who knows how many days??! God, why i can't have ice cream today? ok, i just have to keep walking. and realize that this season i'm meant to work on myself. and allow God to reveal all the things He has purposed for me in this hour and in this day.

dear Jesus, You know my heart. You know what i'm struggling with. I give it all to You. please, Lord, teach me patience. cultivate it within me, as i wait on You and learn to live and walk through uncomfortable seasons.

seasons where i want ice cream.
and i want it now.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

"Joy is contagious, just as sorrow is. I have a friend who radiates joy, not because his life is easy, but because he habitually recognizes God's presence in the midst of all human suffering, his own as well as others'. Wherever he goes, whomever he meets, he is able to see and hear something beautiful, something for which to be grateful. He doesn't deny the great sorrow that surrounds him nor is he blind or deaf to the agonizing sights and sounds of his fellow human beings, but his spirit gravitates toward the light in the darkness and the prayers in the midst of the cries of despair. His eyes are gentle; his voice is soft. There is nothing sentimental about him. He is a realist, but his deep faith allows him to know that hope is more real than despair, faith more real than distrust, and love more real than fear. It is this spiritual realism that makes him such a joyful man."

Henri Nouwen

Saturday, February 14, 2009

ok, so this is my second attempt to start an online blog...

the last time i tried to do this, blogspot deleted my profile because i didn't post often enough. i'm going to try to get better at this.

be on the lookout for posts!

.m.

i'm a girl.
in real life.
this is my story.