When The Credits Roll

The chapter of my life in Lancaster will soon end. When the credits roll, tears will stain my face.

I have had to take one detour since my move to Lancaster. I was trying to go to a tack shop in Gap, but the road was closed; there was a detour. Seemingly, there was no reason for the detour. Perhaps there was road work, but I couldn't see it; maybe a tree was down; possibly a car accident. I don't know. The detour sent me on little back roads made of dirt for a horse and buggy. Eventually, I ended up at the tack shop.

I feel like I'm about to take a detour. There's no way through right now. It's not a bad thing; it just takes patience to wait. In April, I will move to Cockeysville. Still the ghetto, sort of. Everything pointed to the move: Rising gas prices, closer to the salon, only working one day a week in Lancaster for the summer, closer to family and friends, no apartments for rent in the city where I wanted to live . . . . My desire is to be back in the city one day, but for now I'm taking a detour.

I love Lancaster city: All the parks and cafes and beautiful streets; NewSong Fellowship, my church home here; my roommates. I have learned so much living here. I can parallel park my car now, and I (generally) remember to move my car for street cleaning! My weaknesses and my stengths do not define me; Jesus Christ does. Freedom. Frustrations. Need. Surrender. I've learned to cry, to be thankful, and to be alone.

I am finally settled here, and now I will take a detour and begin that process all over again in Cockeysville.

Horatio Spafford wrote this hymn in 1873. As the credits roll, my soul sings along.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

But, Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul!

It is well, with my soul.
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

I Dunno

Say it just like it's spelled. I dunno. I say these two words quite frequently. I just don't know. I don't know what tomorrow will bring; don't know where I'll be living; don't know what job I'll hold this summer; I just dunno.

Pull apart the petals on a rose and toss them in the air. That is what my life is like right now. Don't know where they will land, but I know it will be messy. Look up and try to catch them as they fall, the wind catching them and teasing your fingertips only to snatch them away again. Look down and realize they are all on the ground now, and scurry to pick them all up. Find a big book and smash each of those little petals between its pages, close the book, and wait. Wait for the petals to dry out, and you finally have something beautiful again.

There's the jobs. Love my jobs. One is far away. The other is close by, but I'll only be working there once a week this summer. And so I need a summer job.

There's the house. Love my bedroom. But this is temporary and I need to find a new location to live in May. The city, like I had thought? Or closer to my far away job? And so I need to find a place to live.

There's relationships. Love so many people in my life. There are the old friends back at home. There are new ones here. Where I move will change what those friendships look like, and bring even more people into my life. And so I cried on the way home tonight.

I am torn. And my petals are falling. I dunno.

". . . we do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon You." (2 Chronicles 20:12)

Grace

Grace.

Unmerited.

Favor.

Unmerited favor.

Thank You, Jesus.

Singularity

I have said on previous Valentine's Days that I could write a book about being single. That becomes more and more true with every passing year, but this is a blog, not a publishing house, so I will give just a few thoughts on my singularity as Valentine's Day approaches.

I guard my heart. I am limitting my chocolate consummation right now, and the best way to do that is to simply not buy chocolate when I'm at the grocery store. Then, when I am home, the temptation is easier avoided. In the same way, I don't watch chick-flicks and I don't read romance novels because those things stir my desire for romance and love, and even sex.

I guard his heart. Modesty. That one word is probably all I need to say. Modesty honors beauty. And I don't flirt. Playing games is not what I'm after. I'd rather a guy notice me for me than because I flipped my hair and teased him.

Am I called to be single? Today I am. Since today, I am single. I choose to see my singularity as a blessing.

Set Free

Jesus enters the temple area. Church. There are doves in cages being sold as sacrifices. People are switching out money for customers, and those customers are hustling about. Busy. Loud. Chaos. Jesus drives out the cashiers and customers. I picture Him screaming over the commotion, toppling tables, dumping over cages, grabbing dove cages out of customers' hands, and throwing them to the ground.

Maybe the temple quieted, or maybe Jesus yelled over the noise as people hurried to the exit. Either way, Jesus taught them, "Is it not written: 'My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations'? But you have made it a den of robbers.' " (The story in the Bible is found in Matthew 21:12-13, Mark 11:15-17, and Luke 19:45-46.)

Two things stood out to me as I read this through recently. The doves. And Jesus.

The doves were headed to death as a sacrifice. They were caged. Trapped. Like me. Headed to death without Jesus' intervention to pay the consequence and penalty of my sin. Like me, snared in bondage to sin.

As Jesus threw the cages to the ground and dumped over the tables, maybe the cages broke open, releasing the doves. Freedom instead of bondage. Mercy instead of sacrifice. Life instead of death. Jesus' death was the sacrifice so the doves could be set free. Freedom for the captives; release from darkness for the prisoners.

I've been set free, but sometimes clutter fills up my table. I wonder if I need to topple the coffee table in my own living room like Jesus did in the temple.
Recently, I've overturned a few things in my life. Facebook is one of them. It robbed me of time with Jesus, and it turned my focus on myself. Chocolate is another. I love chocolate a whole lot, and it had an unhealthy hold in my life so I now limit how often I can enjoy it. Make-up. I learned a lot about beauty over the summer at camp, where I put sunlotion on my face everyday instead of mascara and blush. Now that I'm working at the salon again, make-up is a part of my dresscode, but I let it get bigger than my dresscode and I began to wear it all the time again, forgetting what true beauty is in the process. For now, I am only wearing make-up to work. Busyness. My life is a little on the crazy side, and I carved out my Tuesday to have sabbath rest.

Turn over the coffee table. Clean it off. Be set free.