Madi

Today, Madi walked in the room, following her daddy, wearing a Red Sox t-shirt and sporting 3D glasses with the lenses popped out. "That's what makes them cool," she told me.

Madi is a life-loving spirit who love Jesus immensely. She likes to make people laugh, refuses to be girlie, dislikes the color pink with a raging passion, and is an awesome hugger. I adore when she lets her strong exterior become transparent and loves in a heart-melting fashion.

Her life is full of music, and it plays out beautifully through her. She made a drum set out of plastic boxes and hard-cover books today, playing them quite convincingly. Her guitar is a popular subject of conversation when we're together, and she has a beautiful singing voice (although she doesn't sing for people, unfortunately).

Whenever I daydream about having a daughter someday, I used to dream of a beautiful girl who would wear a pink tu-tu with every outfit. Now, thanks to lovely Madi, I also think of a gorgeous girl in a baseball tee with wild bobbed hair, banging boxes with drum sticks.

It's That Time of Year Again

Most of the days on my August calendar are sporting giant X's. There are Target bags of school supplies on the stairs. The parents are about to strangle us with all the TV that we've been watching. Every store commercial supports the phrase "back to school."

I found out after I left school, just how much I love it. I love the classroom atmosphere. I love adults passing on their wisdom. I love notebooks, and pens, and the intensity of vigorous note-taking. I'll be at the college three hours, four days a week this semester, and I'm stinkin' excited!

This also means, with school starting, Autumn is on its way! I forget how much I love Fall until it's around the corner. The leaves will change. Homework will be rushed to get done so that the scary movies on TV can be watched. The weather will cool nicely. I'll get to wear lovely Fall/Winter clothes (scarves, boots, jeans, and the occasional hat), which I favor far more than summer clothing. Thanksgiving will find our hearts and stomachs once again.

OK, I'm getting a tad ahead of myself -- but when you think about, just a tad.

It'll be lovely. I can't wait.

If you ever have your leg cut open...

...you should totally come stay with my momma with you're healing.

There are three things that I assured myself that I could not ever handle:

1) Rollercoasters

2) Bad guys (the really bad kind)

& 3) Surgery

Yesterday, through the strength of God & squeezing the daylights out of Mom's hand, I survived #3. I almost died, guys. You have no idea.

OK.. so, maybe I wasn't that close to leaving this world. Maybe I'm being a tad dramatic. Long story short, there was something on my leg, they opened it, drained it, and here we are.

Since then, my momma's been great. She held the trash can while I threw up at the doctor's office, made sure I didn't faint in the bathroom, got me chocolate chip muffins, brought me more yummy stuff, and looked at the "wound" today while I was afraid to.

...But, if anyone asks, I almost died.

(photo weheartit.com)

Invitation (5.27.10)

a new day
and the first thing I hear is his voice
whispering, calling, "awake, bride."
that is when I see him,
sporting a smirk upon the opening
of my green eyes.
and my heart melts, for he is Love.

i cant help but remember
how he saved me,
how he rode in, my brave knight,
with valor, delivering me from myself;
slaying my death with his own
and, with his faithful strength, returning to me.

as I lay there, admiring the delight
that's dancing on his face
I know that this hero of mine
has a plan.
extending his handsome, scarred hand
he leans in and whispers,
"run away with me..."

so we descend from the window,
because he only fabricates
plans of adventure and worth.
i feel no need to fear the possible fall
for he has kept me safe
in caressing hands
and vows to do so for always.

when our feet meet the ground,
we run through
cool green grass with our
heads thrown back in laughter.
upon reaching the wildflowers
and still waters, I know we have
arrived.

he sits me down in meadow,
then joins me.
with gentle fingers
tucking a red flower behind my ear.
he sees me stainless, pure, and lovely.
his eyes have yet to leave my face.
"you're beautiful to me."

the grass, the breeze in my hair, the sun kissing our faces.
as we lay there, I trust this is forever.
this is life, this is Love; making my
world a fairytale. and this I know: he'll ask me every morning to share
the day together as his Beloved.

Written by myself while I was in Italy this summer. I thought it was a very romantic place. I believe Jesus must have thought so too, because of all His wooing.

Beloved Childhood Friends

I am beginning to see my 13 year old self as a person outside of me. You know when you look back at a period in your life and think, "Man! Why was I so dumb back then?" -- well, I'm not going through that. At least, I'm not feeling that way about my 13 year old self now. I certainly had my embarrassing, naive moments, but I'm not looking down on the 13 year old me as I have while remembering the 10 year old me. Recently, however, I have been viewing the me that I was two years ago as someone who is no longer who I am today. Make sense?

In five months I'll be 16. Now, I'm not one to freak out about birthdays, but I'll reluctantly say that this is kind of a milestone, 16. All of this has led me to think more and more about the beginnings of my childhood and early teenage years. This is no reason to remind me that I am still extremely young, because I know that I am. I like being youthful. I am simply remembering, reminiscing, seeing that my life has been pretty grand.

I think of life in California, all the kids on the street riding around on our Razor scooters, playing make-believe games and getting into dramatic fights. My (now) heartwarming elementary school, learning with friends whom I laughed with endlessly, us scowling the mean staff members because we were just that cool.

Then we moved to Florida. I hated Florida. I cried deeply in the shower the night before my first day of school in the state. I also got a clump of shaving cream in my eye during that shower -- but that's irrelevant. It didn't help with the crying, though. But things changed, I got used to how things were. We finally found a church that Mom and I liked. I learned a lot there over the years. It was there where I met my best friend. Maybe moving to Florida wasn't that bad...

It's crazy scary how fast years fly by, and so sad how slow they pass. It's heartbreaking and beautiful. I guess the part of my hear that I'm trying to share is that I'm starting to view the 13 year old me as a girl whom I shared that year with the most intimately. The younger Elisabeths are some of the closest people in my life. I'm a little different than they are now, but we have gone through so much together. I'll finish off with saying this, 13 year old me is becoming more and more of a dear friend as each day passes.

(photos from weheartit.com)

Learning As They Did

I spent the morning with six beautiful, godly women. We came together to pray, learn, and tend to the fire within each of our personal calls to be leaders. It was a lovely time sharing our callings, venting the hard parts we are experiencing that comes with leadership.

We talked a lot about the word suffering. It's a scary, overused verb. Today, in our little group of women, I saw a positive connotation of this word being created. I realize that suffering, happens to all of us in various forms and degrees. What one feels when suffering, may not effect another.

There is always someone in our life who seems to have it all together. They appear to be perfectly joyful and content with life. I feel bad for people like this. These are the kinds of people who are right where Satan wants them: comfortable and independent. I find that the most Jesus-like people in my life have hurtles to leap over, higher than what they can leap alone.

How can we be really used in an atmosphere that is comfortable to us when we are serving a God that is so much bigger than we can grasp? Seeing sufferings as blessings because we are seen as a threat to the ultimate Liar, is an honorable thing to accomplish.

As I was with these women today, I couldn't stop imagining woman during Old Testament eras, sitting in a circle with troubles as we were -- a little different, although not a lot -- praying and praising God for letting us be used for His Kingdom.

There's nothing like it.

(photo from www.imdb.com)

Burning Like the Sun

There's something quite significant about the sun. It's powerful, strong, and spirit-lifting. The mysterious, unapproachable air that it obtains brings it only more majesty, glorifying God in a way that inspires. It shines to the deep corners of the earth. The blessings that God has bestowed on us through the sun is many.

The Word holds many comparisons to the brightness of the sun. The verse I think of first is this:

"Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him and He will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun."

I see it a beautiful thing that God would compare our faithfulness to the warmth and power of the sun. Perhaps because when I imagine the sun I think of being enveloped in warmth, of the brightness and liveliness of Haiti, of positive hope, or promises, of a future.

Following God's will, I'm learning, feels a lot like standing in the sun: embraced, content, Spirit filled.