Of children and promises and wonder and faith

I don't have it all worked out in my head yet, but there seems to be a connection between childlike faith/innocense, and things having great meaning. In other words, for adults, information doesn't equal knowledge.

Children see the world as big, and beautiful, and amazing. Big orange pumpkins in the fall, tall, green Christmas trees, yellow, and red balloons at birthday parties. Children are curious, and see the world around them with a  spirit of wonder and belief that what is, truly is. Mom loves me, dad loves me and I can trust him. When I was babysitting tonight, the 1 1/2 year old kept asking when mommy and daddy were getting home, and the five year old confidently reassured that it would be later, but that they were coming back. No doubt at all. It was trust in the consistency of a father who is always there; always comes back. 

 As a child, it's fun to look at the stars and catch lady bugs and marvel (though children may not use such a big word to describe it) at the sweetness of blueberries, and just for the fun of it, see how many blueberries one can eat in 15 seconds. Swimming in the pond, joy on Christmas morning, these were moments of pure emotions full of wonder and delight. And another thing that children get is that God is bigger than all. So one of my favorite songs, I will admit, is God is Bigger Than the Boogie Man, by Veggie Tales. I half jokingly, half seriously take that song seriously. Think about it. For little children, what's scarier than something we can't see? Something other than the Boogie Man, or the shadows? And yet God is bigger than all of those things. Why can't God be bigger than our adult Boogies too? And yet, he is...

So why do adults lose the delight of dancing in the rain? What takes away our innocent trust? God is still just as much in control of our lives now as he ever was, nothing has changed. Nothing except our own knowledge that tempts us with distrust. We learn more, and just like Adam and Eve, feel as if we'll be able to rival, or be like God. So we think we know about the danger of nuclear warfare, or tsunami's, of crashing stock markets, we think we know and think we have reason to worry about real problems. But we don't. Just because we think we know more about things doesn't give us reason to say "this deserves to be worried about." Instead, we should say "Look how complicated some parts of life are--aren't I glad that God is in control so I don't have to worry." "I said to my God, I trust you, my times are in your hands.'"

God is in control, and we should never lose wonder and delight in life. This is my Father's world, and of our Father's things, we are free to use and enjoy. As Bonaventure said, it's not good enough to have "investigation without wonder." It's ok; it's right to thank God for the rain, and I'd venture that it is even better to dance in it. To enjoy every sensation, every rainbow and sunset because they are every bit a part and expression of God's love. I hope I never outgrow my delight in rain and clouds and stars and laugher. Yes, laughter and joy and tears. This whole expirience of being human; of being able to say I am, and realize that in some way, our I am's are pitiful, but reflections none the less of I AM. Because he is, we also are. Imago Dei, I am so unworthy.

To put it in the words of Rich Mullins, someone who, in my opinion, really got it. Let's go back to when we were children and:

"Every stable was sacred because it was in a stable that Christ was born, and every star was an angel of God's presence because He had told Abraham to see in them the number of blessings to come. Every tree had hands to clap and mountains had voices; pebbles could penetrate the helmets on the heads of giants; sins were shameful and love was irrepressible...we used to pray: "Into my heart, into my heart, come into my heart, Lord Jesus. Come in today. Come in to stay. Come into my heart, Lord Jesus..." and we can't grasp it much more now than we could then, on;ly it didn't stop us from praying. When we were little, we gave ourselves over to faith. Now we are big, and too heavy to rise about our own understanding.

When we were kids we sang for the joy of singing, we colored and cut and pasterd for the fun of doing it. We ran for the love of running and laughed and got scared and saw the world as a real place full of real dangers and realbeauty and real rights and wrongs.

And if the cross is more than a symbol (and it is), and if grace is more than sentiment (and, thank God, it is) if Jesus Christ is really God's revelation of Himself and not the product of human imagination (And He is), then we will become the children we once were and must become again. Stables will be temples, stars will be  guarentees...we will pray and run and work and give ourselves over to faith. And God will be our Father and His Kingdom will be our home, for we will be those children we once were, and "of such is the Kingdom, of Heaven..."

The world wants to rob us of our joy. Every day we have to fight against things that would destroy our peace. I know. No sooner does God renew a promise to me, than I am feeling assulted by doubts, by what if's...Hold on to joy. If God says life is good, then it's good. If God says he is always with us, then he is. My friend, it's ok: God is bigger than the Boogie Man.

The Color Green, Rich Mullins

And the moon is a sliver of silver
Like a shaving that fell on the floor of a Carpenter's shop
And every house must have it's builder
And I awoke in the house of God
Where the windows are mornings and evenings
 Stretched from the sun
 Across the sky north to south
And on my way to early meeting
I heard the rocks crying out
I heard the rocks crying out




Be praised for all Your tenderness by these works of Your hands
Suns that rise and rains that fall to bless and bring to life Your land
Look down upon this winter wheat and be glad that You have made
Blue for the sky and the color green that fills these fields with praise


And the wrens have returned and they're nesting
In the hollow of that oak where his heart once had been
And he lifts up his arms in a blessing for being born again
And the streams are all swollen with winter
Winter unfrozen and free to run away now


And I'm amazed when I remember
Who it was that built this house
And with the rocks I cry out




 Be praised for all Your tenderness by these works of Your hands
Suns that rise and rains that fall to bless and bring to life Your land
 Look down upon this winter wheat and be glad that You have made
 Blue for the sky and the color green 

Reflections of love

Amazing, it is, the times when one is struck with powerful emotion. Often inconvenient, as it was for me.

 My flight home from MASTERS. I was exhausted more so than I can remember in a long time. A very long time. So naturally, I wanted to sleep. I was also sick. The ‘MASTER’s bug,’ or Louisville Slugger, as Mr. Brown fondly named it, had finally caught up with me. And it was about time—I was sort of expecting to get sick so I wasn’t surprised. But surprise or no, I wanted to sleep. My seat was in front of the exit row, hindering my chair from reclining, so I pulled down the tray table in front of me, folded my arms under my head, and tried to get comfortable. Except that the man sitting in front of me must’ve been ADD because he just would not hold still. He was also large enough to make the entire seat move every time he shifted just a little bit. This made it very difficult for me to be comfortable, not to mention sleep. With a sigh, I sat up, giving up on sleep for the moment, and just let my mind wander back over the conference. A dangerous thing to do when you’re tired and know you’re thinking over an emotional subject. But I wanted to think. Wanted to remember.

            What a blessing the past three weeks had been to me. First having prep week and working with an amazing intern team, and then the conference itself. How I loved seeing everyone. From the guest instructors who are some of my dearest friends in the world, to seeing conference participants eager to learn and participate, to the many moms there that sacrifice their time, and in love, dedicate themselves to giving their children a good education, to the RSA’s who were just so incredible to work with. Every year, something new stands out to me, and I think this year I particularly noticed all of the parents.

Watching Mrs. Hop, Mrs. Kovaka, Mrs. Yeager, and Mrs. Ketring work so hard to pull of a conference that they had dedicated so much time to was inspiring. I remember over hearing a conversation that Mrs. Kovaka was having. She had around 10-12 RSA girls staying at her house, on top of coordinating host housing and all of the other little odd jobs that she did. “We were all in such a hurry to leave this morning that no one had time to clean up after breakfast,” she was saying. “So when I had to run home in the middle of the day, I had to take time to clean up the kitchen because my husband is still coming home at night and I don’t want there to be a mess for him.” I really admired what she said. Her life is crazy, she has a million kids at her house, and yet in the midst of it all, she is still wanting to take care of her husband. He is not slipping out of attention just because she has all of this crazy conference business going on. I was inspired by her dedication. It seems like such a small thing, a small detail. And yet, I know how tired everyone was, and she had not ceased to care about the little things. Her light was still burning.

Then there was Mrs. Dee. She bravely took on the job of being in charge of MASTERS tab.  Towards the beginning of debate week, ‘the bug’ found her too, and yet she still continued to work with Nick and I to prepare for the tournament. She’d call me late at night saying she’d just emailed changes. She’d call me earlier in the morning to make sure all the ballots had been turned in. And even though the morning before the tournament she was sick, she sends the information that we need on a flash drive, says to call her if we need anything, but that she thinks she ought not come because she needs to get well as she has to go somewhere with her daughters the day she gets home from MASTERS. What love and sacrifice. Yes please, Mrs. Dee, get well, you did so much for us already. Get well so that your light can continue to shine to all those who you are around.

Then there was Mrs. Yeager. She took on the task of planning all of the meals for the conference, even the two banquet nights. She worked so hard that she didn’t even get to sit down and enjoy the banquets. But she did it because she loves her children, she believes in the mission of CFC, and she wanted to make this conference possible for everyone that came. Loves makes her light glow.

Then there was Mrs. Wolfson. She no longer has any kids of her own in competition, and yet, she cares enough about the pursuit of excellence that she travels to MASTERS to learn, and to network, and to have information to take back to her club, to help her students there. Her light continues to shine.

Then there were all of the parents who judged countless debate rounds. Some of them three and four rounds in one day. But they did it because they care about their children and care about their education. Their light shines, and is being reflected in the lives of their children.

Time and time again throughout MASTERS I was struck by the many sacrifices that our parents make for us and for our education. Homeschool moms are amazing. They have love and conviction. And it is something they desire to pass on to us. So they are raising us to have values and standards and morals, and passions, and intellect and eloquence, and love. I am so thankful for all of the moms who took  the time to talk to me and to answer my questions about life.  Moms are so wise, and they care so much. Next time you need someone to talk to, find a mom. I am especially thankful to Mrs. Jennifer Forman, Mrs. Robbi Blum, Mrs. Lisa Kays, Mrs. Dee McGill, Mrs. Deborah Cooper, and Mrs. Diana Wolfson for investing in me and sharing their lives with mine. Their light added a little bit of brightness to my own.

And then I began to reflect on love, and the love that we as Christians share. I always love being at MASTERS, because it’s just so….refreshing. Heck yes, it’s a bit pampering, too. For two weeks to be with so many people that are like me in the places where it matters. To be with people who have similar values and standards and goals. We are taught to love, and through the skills learned in debate, we are being taught to communicate and have relationships with those who we disagree. In their talk Sunday morning, Karen and Michele identified our uniting factor as being the love that we share. And I could not agree more. What I saw at MASTERS was beautiful to me, and nearly moved me to tears two or three times over the conference. I see moms who love their kids and will sacrifice for them. I see kids who loves their parents and their families. I see families who love one another and are dedicated to excellence. I was able to articulate to Karen what I saw by saying, “It’s beautiful here, and why? The people here have seen the Good, they are now reflections of it, and that is what is beautiful.” Our lights shine for the world to see.

What a blessing it was to be in that environment for 9 days. Oh…to stay like that, forever surrounded by some of the people that I love the most. I know that no one is perfect, I know that in any room with more than one person in it, there will be times for disagreement. Of course I know this. And yet, love, what binds us together, is stronger than our disagreements. The closing ceremony was especially beautifully sad this year. Thinking about all of us having to leave and go our separate ways. And yet, it’s necessary. If we’re going to “run to the darkness” we cannot forever remain huddled together, having our lights only continually light ourselves. But it’s hard to be separated from the ones you love. Yet we must, I realized. In Heaven, we will eternally be surrounded by Love, and the people that we love, and we will never have to leave. But that is not now. For now, we are all called to different places. And in his perfect plan, God has ordained where each of us should be. So we leave and go back to our respective homes, jobs, schools…spreading out quite literally from coast to coast. And in its own way, that is beautiful too. If we will let him, God wants to use our lives to be candles, to bring hope and light to the dark world around us. "Let your light so shine before men..."

So by this time I’m trying to no avail, to hold back the tears that have quietly started to run down my cheeks. But it’s dark, so I was hopeful that no one would notice. I feel so small and alone and tired and sick. But it felt good to cry, and to give my heart to God. “Here God,” I said. “My heart hurts just a little. You know how I hate to leave this people…how much I was moved by the beauty that I see surrounding everyone there. But I know that you bring us together for a reason, and you send us out for a reason. So thank you for that. Thank you for the talents of everyone there. Thank you for the talents of the interns, of the RSA’s, of the students. Keep them close to yourself, God, let them live and speak and act for you. Let them be your lights, and keep them close to yourself. Help them remember that no one is ever so great that they cannot serve, for in being the least we will become the greatest. Let them all use their gifts for you. And encourage the parents to follow their convictions about their children's lives and education. God, I feel better knowing there are parents out their like mine, because that means I'm not alone and their are kids out their like me. (yeah, even though I'm about to be 21, I still feel like a kid so many times) Christ was a servant leader, and he is the rule, not the exception. God, our hearts are your instruments, let our lives be you song. Thank you for life and love.”

For those of us who are in Christ, we are a family. Our hearts have been lit by his love, and are being guided by his Spirit. We are being sent by his Spirit to do his work. And I am so thankful for the times of refreshment where I can work alongside some of those closest to me. But I can also be thankful for the times that we are sent out; the times that we are apart.  Because we’ve not in heaven yet, so it’s not time to always be with all the ones that we love. And we are not alone. The Spirit that began the work in us does not leave us alone, and God's people are everywhere. Love itself is in our hearts. In the meantime, let us “watch and work and love and sing and pray,” as we “run to the darkness.”  If you managed to read this entire thing, it's the honest truth. A little piece of my heart. I want to encourage what is good, and beautiful, and true. Use the talents God has given you. Let us carry the candles we were given, and let us go and light our world.

"Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works, and glorify our Father in Heaven."

Currently Listening Revelation By David Phelps Virtuoso see related

A handful of dust, a worthless piece of clay
And you breathed the breath of heaven
Then there was a soul 
The heart, the hands, the voice that could sing of your perfection
Life is a symphony that only you can play
You know I can hear it through the madness everyday

Virtuoso, virtuoso
This heart is your instrument 
This life is your song
Virtuoso

There isn’t a note of mediocrity
In all of your creation and all the beauty
We create with human hands is only imitation
Thunder crashes, waves crescendo on the sand
The wind that’s whispering can only be your hand

Virtuoso, virtuoso
This heart is your instrument 
This life is your song
Virtuoso

A timeless melody of beauty and emotion 
Perfect harmony inspiring true devotion
No one else can play its chords so graceful yet so strong
You made the instrument and wrote the song 

Virtuoso, virtuoso
This heart is your instrument 
This life is your song