Deep Unto Deep

I have been reading this book by Dana Cadler. (the title)
and it has pushed me further in some of the main things
I have been learning lately. She says,

"The Lord does not despise our weakness as we so often imagine.
He is not caught off-guard by our frailty...He knows it fully and
embraces us in this place as He beckons us to continually lift our
weak voice and our weak gaze in prayer and communion with Him."

I think it's funny that I try to hid my weakness from God,
many times through avoidance or self-righteousness,
because I think that He is disappointed in it--but let's be honest,
He knows my weakness fully and it does not change
how He loves me. And to my relief, it never could.

"He calls it victory when we willingly lift our voice to Him
from the wilderness of our barrenness. This He calls noble."

"On the days when every accusation lurks over my head
and all the voices of condemnation join forces against me,
my weak heart OVERCOMES Him as I chose to believe what
presently seems an absurdity--that God is for me and that
my prayer, though weak, is wisdom. These are the days He
holds precious.

"Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believed..." Jn, 20:29

I have come to the conclusion recently that because I have
been taught that I am nothing in comparison to God,
which is completely true, I have somehow interpreted this to mean
that I am such an inferior being that sometimes, or a lot times,
He looks at me with disappointment or maybe even anger.

But this is a lie.

Cadler states, "To know that each small choice matters and that
every tear holds significance with the heart of the Lamb of God
changes everything for us and enables us to give ourselves
unreservedly to the journey of our heart."

If I know that God's love is so deep--that He never looks upon
me with disappointment, that he sees blamelessness in me through
Christ, that He counts weakness in prayer as noble, and that often
what I think is barren or unfruitful prayer he counts as precious....
is so powerful.

She says that even in the moments that when we can't feel God
in prayer, when we do not feel Him close to us, when prayer
and communion with him is hard and not a deep desire, this
is her prayer:

"Write it down in our book, O God. Though it was so empty
and so dry, may it count in an eternal relevance I do not yet
comprehend. Write it down so that one day you might read to
me of its preciousness. Remember this day, though I know it
will blend into so many days just like it in my own memory.
Count it as valuable to the heart of God. And O God, give me
one grace, I pray. Give me the grace to give myself in prayer
once again tomorrow. To believe that it matters. To put my
heart before You though I feel so unproductive and unfruitful.
Give me the grace to spend tomorrow once more with You in love.
For I can think of no more noble way to spend a day than to
spend it with You, whether I feel your nearness or not. Give
me the grace for one more day.

To believe in God's love seems elementary to me, yet I realize
that I have not grasped it yet--and never will in entirety.
Yet beginning to grasp this truth more and more is giving
me such freedom! To believe in the goodness ahead of me,
to know that He is with me, rejoicing over me, and not
disappointed. To know that every feeling, tear,
prayer counts to Him, is valuable and precious to Him.

May I have the grace to believe the truth today and to live
a life of gratitude to the God who is overcome with love for
me--for us.

The Joy of Chicago

Things that have brought me joy thus far in Chicago:

One of the most breath-taking views is on my usual running
path--the city skyline on the right and Lake Michigan on my left.

My apartment is small, but more cozy and cute than cramped. :)

My roommate and I have come up with a motto if we are having
a bad day--in the words of Lady Gaga...
"Just Dance..It's going to be okay"
which we belt out as we dance around our apartment...
unashamed. ha.

There is a coffee shop on every corner.

I ponder how in the world people have Great Danes
and Labs as pets around here--
are they the ones living in the 3.4 million Brownstone?

Grad school is only a 5 minute walk away.

I live by some great friends and family members.

Part of my "job" as a student is to sit by the lake and write poetry.

There is always someone fascinating to walk by....

Downtown is oh so very close.

And right now, I have the time to talk it all in.

God is good.

Writing Poetry Class

My first week's poem: A Portrait Poem

The Pencil

His teenage giant stature somehow
fills the cubicle classroom where he sits.

Enthroned he silently commands his followers—
his classmates--with a simple smirk or a mouthed, foul word.

His eyes speak—I’m the King.
The King of influence. The King of cruelty.

His heart speaks of metal and jagged glass,
of pleas discarded; of Pharoah’s refusal.

The history teacher shouts of hope and change—
of equality, of Malcom X and Susan B

But his fingers say—you can’t teach me.
To believe or accept or sing praise

as his lined jaw faces the side window
and his pencil lays still on his desk.