New MaryMary. :)

Walking by Mary Mary Music

Seasons.

There is a significance that hides within the order of the seasons. Fall was not meant to preceed Spring, nor was Winter supposed to come before Summer. Each transition from one season to the next has scientific and inherent meaning.

The comfort and replenishment of Spring is not meant to last forever, lest the plants be overgrown or the earth be drowned by rain. Likewise, Winter is the necessary length to cease all things, even to the point of death. However, there is the moment when the first budding plant breaks through the melting snow...which is a sign that change is approaching. The seasons are regulated without the influence of man; showing the imminence of our God, who knows and controls all things. Just as we adjust our clothing according to season, we must also submit our lives to the seasons the Lord takes us through. In times of flourishing and in times of famine.

God never promised a continuous summer, but he asks us to stand on His loyalty and long-suffering. Rest your heart with the Sustainer of the Season and not the seasons themselves. Whether you are blinded by the glorious cloudless sky or beaten down by the tumultuous rain, peer beyond and see the Father...who remains Unmoved.

Speak. {Part 1}

For most of my childhood, I thought that my voice was either insignificant or incompetent. I grew up as a soft-spoken soul in the midst of a loud family who needed to shout to get their point across. My peers and I, in grade school, held the belief that the people who talked the loudest/most were heard/reverenced more. I was neither. However, my silence gave me maneuvering abilities. I was able to observe without being noticed, and I witnessed many truths and life lessons. I literally learned through the mistakes of others, and that gave me a bit of wisdom that most teenagers did not have. In a way, it made it easier to stay out of trouble, because I was close enough to see where some paths lead. Superiors and mentors in my life began to take notice. And suddenly, I became an "ideal" teenager; with a clean lifestyle and wisdom, conjointly. Through my silence/docile nature, I had finally been given a voice.


Somewhere around my 21st birthday, I became more and more vocal. Confident in spiritual matters because I'd been groomed to be the leader. The fault-less standard of holiness that others could look up to. The one who not only lived above reproach, but made sure she told everyone else how they should straighten up. I became less afraid of speaking up; and caring less about the consequences. It was liberating, truly. Considering that I was forced to keep silent; be seen and never heard, I took most opportunities to open my heart and mouth and use it as a method to teach and educate others.

My brethren, let not many of you become teachers, knowing that we shall receive a stricter judgment. Even so, the tongue is a little member and boasts great things.   --James 3:1,5

 The moment I was given a voice, I also accepted the tendency to be judgmental and haughty. I assumed that I'd been given a gift of oversight to correct others. I was, unknowingly, using a vehicle of condemnation; calling it a gift of teaching. Meanwhile, I myself struggled with correction, and was more condemning to my own heart than anyone else. "This is the way that it has to be, right?" "People won't change unless you give them hard truth and pierce through their emotions!" I think this passage in James says that those who wish to teach must have a clearer sense of grace, empathy, and humility than those they teach. Teachers will be examined more thoroughly, because of the responsibility attached to carry truth to others. If the teachers misuse their role, then people may not receive truth.

Let everyone be swift to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger because the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God. -- James 1:19-20

Ugly. (Part 2...before Part 1)

I carry a beauty inside that I do not understand.

I have never thought of myself as an especially attractive person, but I do see a beauty when I look into my own reflection. I see beauty in most things, actually. There is beauty in the embrace of two enemies. In the giggle of a carefree child. In the random, purposeful flight pattern of a butterfly. Even in the surprising crescendo of melody during the bridge of a song. It’s as if a surge of emotion comes from a hidden place inside of you, and for a moment, you connect with God’s original design. Sometimes, I’ll want to stay and linger, because it feels like I am literally walking through the Garden with Him. It feels familiar; like I am back in a place where I am welcome. Home.

I tend to hide in the background.

Even though I stand at an even six feet, I am most comfortable preparing others for their individual callings for greatness. I’ve had moments where I’ve witnessed God’s light within my own soul. However, I try my best to shy away from it after a while, because I do not want to get contented with the idea that God wants to dwell permanently within me. I understand that for salvation and righteousness purposes, God wants to set up his dominion. He wishes to have complete Lordship over my heart, and to this, I gladly comply. Still, I am uneasy with the fact that He not only wants to own me, but He wants to live in and through me.

A landlord is not required to live in the same apartment complex as his tenants, but a good landlord will commit to the well-being of those who live there. The landlord who lives among his tenants wishes to be readily available to them. I will never understand why Christ saved my soul, only to set up a gorgeous palace in the center of its ruins, and then rest there.

He is my beauty.
He’s the beauty that I do not understand.
...That I am scared to death to live without...

Out In the Cold.

Love subjects you to the worse kinds of treatment. It is literally a call to submit one's will to that of another. That may mean forgiving an offense quickly. Biting your tongue when misunderstood. Embrace when you're not ready to. Love never looks out for itself...it is constantly, intentionally self-less.

Easier said than done.

Oh, it's quite easy to give your last dime when you don't have any issues standing in the way of you and the person in need. It's pretty effortless to give Love in the middle of June, on a gorgeous beach...as you and your baby stretch out next to one another; picking out clouds and deciphering their shapes.

Sure.

But, to me, Love is the dead of winter. Two embittered people stung by circumstance and hovering together underneath one umbrella...Meanwhile the harsh cold winds blow and the stinging snow comes down unmercifully. There is a chance for survival, because they are in it together. There will be times where the other person will slow his/her pace. Or get weary. And will need encouragement and a strong arm to hold them up. Soon, it may be your own feet that drag from the journey in the cold. Love knows that it will die without exercise or freedom of movement. So, in the cold it moves as much as it possibly can...

But what if there's only one person? A solitary soul...out in the cold.

"...if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone?"
--Ecclesiastes 4:11

What happens to a person that has no other to keep him/her warm? To aid him/her along in the journey? Always possessing the Source/Creator of Love, but having no one to exercise Love to? Or having a body to keep warm, but receiving no warmth themselves in return? How does a heart survive without true empathy, selflessness, and kindness?

How long will that soul travel the streets before someone stops to join him/her?

How I Feel (Music Version).

Hallelujah.

No Longer a Bridesmaid...

I loved to play dress up as a little girl.

I can picture myself placing my tiny feet into my mother’s high heels, draping her long dresses over my small body, and pretending that I was a kind mother or a strong wife. My favorite character to play dress up in was a bride on her wedding day. I clearly recall my mother pulling out her wedding dress from the back of her closet; carefully removing it from its clear, plastic bag and smoothing out the impressed wrinkles. She would gaze retrospectively at the dress; recalling how she felt on that day. I have had many talks with her, as well as many young women, about my anticipation towards wearing this special garment myself one day. No matter my relationship status, I possess a secret desire to don this piece of clothing that represents honor, beauty, and grace.

I’m surrounded by a culture that marries young, and I have yet to make significant strides towards that walk down the aisle. Somewhere around the entrance of my 24th birthday, I began to get slightly depressed about how distant I am from getting married. I talk frequently with 21 and 22 year olds who have recently tied the knot, and they (though enduring their share of problems that come along with getting married young) seem to be so grounded in their Love for one another. A part of me feels like I haven’t earned this privilege yet; the privilege of being committed to. That despite the hardships that are promised with being in Love, I haven’t arrived at the level to where I can wear that beautiful wedding dress and declare that I have someone who wants to Love me unconditionally. I can only be one of the bridesmaids; those who can celebrate and advocate for Love, but cannot relate to the demonstration taking place between the Groom and his Bride.

Participating in the celebration, but unable to take ownership of this Love.

Revelation 19:7-8 (English Standard Version)
7Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready;
8it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure"—for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.

I have been so enamored by the timing that I will wear a physical wedding dress, that I have forgotten that I am already clothed. I am adorned in my spirit with grace, beauty, and honor through His salvation and holiness. My spiritual linens are pure and white, and every day my heart is being prepared for the day that He (my Groom) will return for me. Each moment that I commune with Him, I am reminded that before any man decides to declare his lifelong Love to me, I already hold the promise to “Love, honor, and protect” from God. Eternally. He has always loved me. He is my First Love. I am already a Bride….His. There is no “until death, do us part” in my Groom and I’s vows.

I am His now, and for always.

Living in the Moment.

It was one of those rare instances where I didn’t feel pressured to contribute something clever to the moment. It was during one of my many required meetings as a Resident Assistant. I sat on my bed across from my roommate & partner. Scattered across our room were the other student leaders; excitedly involved in other many random conversations. We were attempting to get through important announcements; which is usually difficult for my girls because we see every gathering as an opportunity for fellowship. More pleasure than business, you would say.

I was especially tired. Had this been a regular Sunday night, with an overworked weekend behind me and a busy week looming ahead, I would have been short on patience. Like I said, I was tired. Funny thing is, is that it was a regular Sunday night, but my attitude was significantly different.

My thoughtful gaze scanned the room. I took in each smile and burst of laughter. I noticed their emotions and sense of camaraderie they shared with each other. We had an agenda set, and we had pertinent information to go over, but all I could do was smile. Interestingly enough, I glanced upwards and met eyes with my roommate, who looked as though she shared my thoughts. We grinned at each other, and she softly shook her head.

I’m thankful for the moments where God turns my face towards His; where He gently reminds me to enjoy the present moment He’s given me. I am 24 years old, and already I am so easily swept away in using future tense. The second that I stare too long at the distant horizon, I feel life speed up, and there is a bit of joy that I’ve missed.

I’m too blessed to ignore what’s in front of me. The grace above me. The power within me. And the Love surrounding me. It’s only in the times where I am still that I realize that I have so much to be thankful for.

I think I’ll take a second longer to smell these roses. Life is beautiful, and in abundance...

A Girl Can Dream...

I wished my world was made up of only My Lord, Poetry, Love, and him.
To walk in the garden again with God; know Him without getting in my own way.
Write with clarity and vulnerability, and Love giving no thought to consequence.
To have him at my side and adjoined to his heart always, without fear or pretense.

A Hope Above All Hope

What an uncertain, faulty world we live in.
It's like the things that we should be able to depend on, prove to be as undependable as the things we EXPECT to disappoint us.

Our jobs aren't secure. Our relationships can fail tomorrow by one lie, too many.
Our homes can be wiped out by hurricanes. The stock market can falter and leave even the wealthiest man destitute.
How can hope abound in a world like this?

Yet, I have a hope. An expectant hope. A hope that seems so untrustworthy, but has stood the test of time.
Many call me insane. Many say it is merely a crutch.
But I know that without this Great Hope, I would have nothing to focus on; past what this world appears to be. The sorrow would have completely overshadowed my soul. Taking me to a place so dark and hopeless, that no amount of familial love or material numbing technique could bring me to contentment.

It took forever to believe in Him. Every time the night was darker than the previous time, I looked to Him, questioning if He would come through for me like He did the time before. And He did. He was there, even when I thought He'd been long gone.

Hebrews 13:5 . . . God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”

All.

I took a Psychology of Religion course a couple of semesters ago; where we surveyed each major world religion. It was incredibly informative and I left with not only a knowledge of other faiths, but a confirmed foundation of my own Faith. I know most people are wary of the topic "religion", but I wanted to explain its role in my life.

I grew up in church, basically. Knew the stories of Noah, Abraham, and Jesus before I mastered my times tables. By 17, I could quote scripture, and even taught lessons for youth and prison inmates. At some point in my late adolescence, I finally mentally understood that there was something to religion that surpassed deeds. I felt something tugging at the strings of my heart.

I thought, mind you, that I was doing okay. I'd overcome depression, suicidal thoughts, a broken home, and the death of my brother...all without the depth of spirituality. Right? Why would a young woman, coming into her own and realizing her identity, need to grow closer to the God of her faith? I mean, I was a good, well-mannered teen. I volunteered places, didn't curse, smoke, or drink, and I was a virgin. I'd done all I could to be a good person, so what else is there?

As soon as I graduated high school, things started to happen. In me and around me.

Example:
I watched the church that I grew up in become more and more occultish and spiritually manipulative. Disunity ensued and people begin to stop attending. Families were broken a part. Those who stayed either began to take on the attitude of the leadership (by demonizing or shunning those who left), or became helplessly subjected to the others. My family was the latter. I struggled in my faith, but stayed and served on many ministries at the church. Saw/heard things that rocked me to my core. Witnessed ungodly, unethical, and illegal practices that made me question the sovereignty of the God of my faith. My life became like clay to my church leaders, and decisions that I made were guided by their counsel. Those church splits and that ministry as a whole has deeply wounded many people. Some of which have completely seperated themselves from Christianity. I considered it.

I remember numerous dark nights where I yelled and screamed at God; asking Him where was He when all of this was happening...or when my parents' marriage was crumbling...or while my brother lay on the side of the road dying...

Instead of getting an explanation from God, I recieved understanding. Now usually, an explanation or a reason for an event will give us understanding. But this time, I gained understanding (not right away) without getting a literal answer. But I had to be willing to want the understanding...

I could not be the same teenager who looked at my faith as a classification. Or a check-box on a job application. Because there is more. It is more.
It wasn't enough to give a percentage of my heart to God. Or my mental understanding. He wanted more. But how much exactly?

All.

This has been the test of my entire life. And it continues to be.
Every trial and circumstance has been to make me stronger, better, and wiser...but also to draw my heart closer to His.

I am only 23 years old...so there isn't much that I know for sure about love and life. But there is one thing that I am absolutely sure of: God loves me.

This is my testimonial. Of what it is meant by "Not a religion, but a relationship."

More to Bear.

There are certain things that I cannot bear. And it does not involve trivial things such as the way someone chews with their mouth open, or when people do not write better than they speak. No, there are certain things that are literally unbearable to my senses, and border on heartbreaking…
1. The screams of a mourning mother
2. The display of an abused child
3. The aftermath of a hate crime
4. Desperate, angry cuts on wrists
5. The eerie silence down the hallways of a high school after a shooting
6. The hidden bruises on a broken lover’s body
7. The long lines at soup kitchens and homeless shelters
8. The existence of child pornography websites

At times, my heart is overwhelmed. Not by the temporary turmoil that I experience, but that I will raise my future children in a world where things such as these are normal. Many of us would rather shut out these images. We’d rather not discuss them because in a way, homicide keeps the earth from overpopulating, and poverty allows the economy to be stabilized.

Someone has to suffer for others to flourish.

That is the truth of our society. Our stark realism has become the way that we choose to live our lives, and it keeps us from wanting better. It has made us apathetic and detached from the basic human condition. It is a game of Russian Roulette, and we are hoping that one day it isn’t our child, or it doesn’t happen at our college campus. But who’s to say? Who makes those decisions? Who allows it all to happen?

Well, we know the answer. Quite a complicated explanation…but it can be spoken in one word: God. The things I listed are completely unbearable, and the fact that it affects us so reflects back on a tendency that goes beyond our genetic make-up. It reflects a relatable, emotional God. The Bible says that God turned His face away in silence as His Son was martyred. Why would God do that? Isn’t He beyond emotion?

We truly reflect His essence (translated “Image”). So why allow us, His Beloved, to continue to experience such heartache? Because it is required for action.

Look at our history…great convictions always precede great actions. Look at the emotions that led to the Civil Rights Movement. The anger and the heartache and the frustration. It was a gut feeling that their current treatment was immoral...DESPITE what the law allowed.

Domestic violence did not become illegal through the law…but first in the heart. Great emotions provoked law-makers to change the norm. Though laws are different throughout our world, each human being has one thing in common: emotions. And we were created to bear them. So that we can make a difference.

Build.An.Alter.

I went and ate lunch alone today...it was nice.
...and I started thinking.
When people in the Old Testament (of the Bible, I mean) were met with
certain provisions, or something life-changing happened to them, or God
revealed something new, they did one main thing:

They built an alter.

When God changed Jacob's name to Israel, he built a memorial on that very spot.
Serving as a physical memory. A reminder of what took place.

2008 so far has been a literal dramatic crescendo of events. I mean, one thing after the other. One challenge after another. And I've been presented with an expectant future. Lots to look forward to. And plenty to worry about.
...but I won't.
I'll simply grab a hammer & a handful of nails, along with a couple of pieces of wood...
and construct my own humble monument.

...maybe I'll call it "Jireh".