savoring the snow

dearest rory,

hi.

what's up?

if you say 'not much', then I think you are mistaken. just take a walk outside and look up at the dark clouds overhead. a trillion white frozen water droplets floating down from the sky will land on your nose and prove you wrong.

lots is up. and lots is falling down.

snow is wonderful, isn't it?

I first remember seeing snow back when I was four. we lived in Hanover Park at the time. in a duplex that we shared with a man named Larry who was almost seven feet tall and never wore a shirt. the garbage hill was just across the street. so was our neighbor who owned an iguana. but that's besides the point.

that winter we had a huge snowstorm. my sidewalk transformed itself into a tunnel and I still remember the feeling of walking through it, dragging my sled behind me as I hurried towards the garbage hill. yeah... the garbage hill doubled as a sledding paradise.

I don't remember much else about that sledding trip or winter, but I remember loving the snow.

doing school was difficult yesterday. not because the work was hard, but because there was a swirling world of whiteness blowing past my window. several times I realized that I had let my eyes drift from my math book to our front pine tree, watching the snowflakes build up on the evergreen branches. I guess the accumulating snowflakes were more interesting than the compound interest rates failing to accumulate on my notebook paper.

I was thinking about how cool it is that such small things like snowflakes can change the world. they make the winter grass go from brown to bright white. they cover even the dirtiest spots and make them clean.

snow always reminds me of Christ.

Jesus is holy. He is pleasing in the sight of God. when He came to earth and was killed, He took our sins upon Himself, upon the cross, and redeemed us, His children. and He didn't stay dead, but He defeated death and gave us the hope of eternal life. He wiped our accounts clean so that when we stand before God, He doesn't see our filth- He sees Christ's blood- He sees perfection.

one Man's sacrifice changed the world. one Man's sacrifice is slowly coloring our grungy world white.

Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe. sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as snow.

yesterday I was confined to watching and dreaming about that beautiful world from a window, but today my friends and I went on an adventure and rearranged several million of those snowflakes.

all of us arrayed ourselves in warm sweatshirts, colorful hats, flowing scarves, and poofy snowpants, climbed to the top of a hill, and plowed new courses in the snow as we screamed and laughed and tumbled through it. our sleds carved paths as we sailed down the hill, sending snow in every direction- including backwards into our pink faces.

someone had the bright idea to build human ramps that would launch our sleds into the sky and hopefully set us gently on the ground again. the guys lined up and braced themselves while a sled packed with girls raced towards them. sounds smart, right?

let's just say the ramp failed.

oh we sailed through the air, all right. but we were no longer on our sleds. those were imbedded into the sides of the guys. and I wouldn't really say we had a smooth landing- but we did have a lot of laughs as we rolled through fluffy whiteness.

in the end, our noses got a little chilled, our knees got a little wet, and our hair got a little attacked by our hats. but we had a blast.

and afterwards we went to Wendy's where my cheesy potato and medium coke commited suicide by jumping off the tray and exploding on the floor.

it was humiliating. but I was grateful for friends who could laugh with me.

I'm glad for the snow. for the memories I have surrounding it. for the way it reminds me of Christ's love for us. for the friends I have to play with in it.

what's your favorite snow memory?

your friend,

muffin

life, death, & microwave popcorn

dear muffin,

I admit; the title is a little dramatic. humor me. :)

lately I've been musing. [which can look remarkably similar to day-dreaming. ahem.] there's nothing like a lengthy to-do list for bringing it on: that pensive mood in which one sits at one's desk, stares at one's wall, & considers the meaning of one's life. 

actually, I'm not sure it's fair to blame the to-do list. I tend to feel this way at the beginning of a every new year. 

December is too hurried for musing. from the time it starts with a tentative shopping trip, to its careening, late-night end on New Year's Eve, December feels like one long party: a blur of snowy sparkles & Christmas lights & curling steam from piping-hot mugs. piles of shoes in the doorway & lighted candles & enough food to feed several small armies. if there is time for a thought, it's only a brief moment of overflowing wonder at God's goodness. or else an incoherent bursting of happiness in general.

but December 31st has a tendency to be followed by January 1st. [funny how that happens.] the party spins to an abrupt end & leaves us reeling in its wake. the Christmas tree comes down & festive decorations go into hibernation. everyone puts their Christmas cheer into a cardboard box in the attic, and, without a second thought, life is back to normal.

I can still see the Christmas lights in my rearview mirror. a carol is ringing in my ears, & there are a few leftover cookies on the counter. but suddenly I'm looking down the runway of an entirely new year. what just happened...?

whatever it was, it's over now. with heads full of memories & hearts full of warmth, it's time to go back to normal. we restart the mill of everyday life & enter the cycle all over again.

thanks, but I'd rather not. in fact, I'd prefer to stay in my pajamas, make popcorn, & watch December 2011 on repeat. keep the glow alive. 

Who invented January, anyway? a long, dreary month painted in shades of grey... it's something of a letdown after December's vibrant color. see that puddle of melted salted slush? let's sit there awhile. I'll write a monologue on the cruel passage of time & you can sing a lament for glory days past. 

but that's the pessimistic outlook. put on your perspective glasses & you'll see things differently. here we are, blinking in the winter sunlight. our lungs breathe sharp air; around us, as far as we can see, blessings line up for us to count. air with oxygen, lungs for breathing it; love, joy, & hearts for holding it. friends & family to share the road. the page has been turned by the strong Hand that wrote our stories long before we arrived to live them; here is a gift. a new year. a year of beginnings & continuings & perhaps even some endings. grab a blank to-do list, pull that cute new Christmas hat over your ears, & burst out into the fresh snow. make tracks; leave snow angels; outside, there's a whole new year waiting to be traveled. make plans & start afresh, never letting proverbs 16:9 slip from your gaze.

surely this is how Lewis & Clark felt the day they set out to cross this side of the world.

so: away, dreariness! we're looking at a blank canvas; let's not start with a haphazard streak of watercolor. break out the acrylics & ask a five-year-old how to fingerpaint.

I'm not one for new year's resolutions [any more than other-day resolutions, anyway], but if I had to choose one, it would be this:

use well the days.

happiest of new years to you, friend. 

always,

rory

life is a highway

my dear rory,

happy new year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

okay, so it’s not exactly new year’s yet, but it almost is! and half the fun of something exciting is getting excited about it before it happens, right?

it’s going to be 2012! the year the world is supposed to end! the year part one of the Hobbit comes out! the year I graduate! the year my aunt has her baby! the year I go to Papua New Guinea! the year I learn how to sail a pirate ship… (hey. I can always dream, can’t I?).

eighteen years of my life have flown past me. they’re gone. never coming back. I see them in the rearview mirror. they’re waving.

“adios!” they cry. “goodbye! aloha! ciao!”

they don’t seem sad to be leaving. but I am sad that they are gone.

and yet, the rearview mirror is where they belong, I guess. this car called ‘life’ is driving forward, and if I don’t keep my eyes on the road, and more importantly, if I don’t keep my thoughts on the end destination, I could crash.

Heaven is a good destination to look forward to. though to be honest, I am excited for some of the other stops along the way as well.

and I don’t have to worry about getting lost! (as a blonde, you have no clue how comforting that is. ;P) thankfully, my GPS will never fail. God is in control of my life and is constantly giving me direction through a “Map“ He wrote specifically for His children. whether I follow that “Map” or not is up to me.

I hope I will follow that “Map“. I pray I will. I try to. I want to with all my heart.

why are there so many distractions in this life? so many appealing things line the road and make me want to turn off and look around for awhile. there are so many things to toy with! so many trinkets to catch my eyes! the worldly attractions and bright lights constantly flicker before me. maybe these things distract you too. but don’t be led astray! keep your eyes on the road. look to God for everything you need! He truly is all we need.

I like that God has provided a rest stop for us. He provides Himself as that rest stop. If you are feeling weary of your journey, you can always run to Him for strength. [“He restores my soul!”] [“I will soar on the wings of eagles. I will run and not grow weary...”]

and isn’t it cool that we don’t have to make this journey alone? other Christ-following family members and friends can travel with us. when things get tough, I know that I can always call one of them up and get encouragement. and I know that if I see one of them on the side of the road with a flat tire, I can always give them a hand. we can encourage each other to stay on the right path and give each other pointers. “yeah, there’s construction on Route 66, so I would avoid that.” “watch out for the fallen tree lying across Distraction Ave.!”

sometimes when I'm driving, it storms. and driving through storms can be difficult. it’s easy to lose sight of the road when rain is getting dumped on my windshield by angry, black clouds. but God promises that He will never leave us or forsake us. He promises He will make our path straight. so even in the storms of life, never give up. trust in the Lord with all your heart.

when the storms of life aren't raging, I am thankful for the scenery. I am grateful for the beauty with which God has created this world. beautiful places and beautiful things. vibrant colors and vibrant people. yummy smells and yummy foods. the little things in life and the not-so-little things in life. He is a Master Author, Artist, and Painter.

I could go on and on about the similarites between life on the road and life on the Road to Life , but to conclude:

there are lots of things to look forward to on the road ahead. I know that I will miss the memories I have left behind me. I know that because even now my heart overflows with bittersweet joy as I remember this past year. these past few years. these past few miles. but like I said, I’ve got to keep my eyes on the road up ahead.

of course, that doesn’t mean I won’t glance back. driving is also dangerous if you don’t ever look back. looking back reminds you of where you’ve been, what ground you’ve covered already, what obstacles to avoid in the future. looking back reminds you of the wonderful places you've been, the amazing people you've met, the memories that you've made.

eighteen years seems like a long time.

as my papa told me, “eighteen! why just think! double your age and you’ll be thirty-six! double that and you’ll be seventy-two! double that and you’ll be one hundred and forty-four! double that and you’ll be two hundred and eighty-eight! double that and you’ll be… well, that’s as high as I can go.”

I must say, that by the time I am two hundred and eighty-eight, I think I will allow myself to stop and look back for a very long time…

… of course, by then I will have hopefully already reached my end destination. :)

I hope you have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. may you have many splendid miles ahead of you.

keep your eyes on the road and your heart on the Map.

love,
muffin

from the inside looking out

“mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest… scratch that… who is the purest of them all?”

dear rory,

once upon a time, in a land that was obsessed with beauty and appearance, lived a woman. this woman was an older lady. she was small. she was slight. she was weak and yellow and frail. and on top of all that, she was sick. very sick. she had had cancer for sixteen years and it had taken its toll on her body.

to be honest, she wasn’t very beautiful… at least, not if you gave her a brief glance. not if you were making a quick evaluation.

why, if you had happened to live in this land and had happened to know this woman and had happened to be the doctor who gave her a check-up, you would have noticed that besides being small and frail and unattractive, she was also bruised and beat up. especially her knees.

how did such a woman belong in such a land?

she didn’t.

she didn’t belong in that land at all. yes, she lived there, but her heart belonged in a kingdom that was far greater than that petty land. she belonged to a kingdom that was ruled by a mighty King. the mightiest King that ever was. a King she had given her life to as a gift to build His Kingdom. a King she would soon get to meet face to face.

I remember hearing of this woman’s death. you see, I live in the same land that she did. this woman was a dear friend of our family’s. her name was Ruth, and while she was not the most beautiful in the land, she was one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom.

for sixteen years she had battled her cancer. for sixteen years she had prayed and cried out to the King of Kings. for sixteen years, she never turned her back on Him.

she used her last few days to witness to the hospice nurse caring for her. that nurse became a citizen of the kingdom.

and what of those bruises on Ruth’s knees? how did she get them? I cry even as I write this- those bruises were from the hours she spent kneeling in prayer.

not hours praying for herself. hours praying for others. hours praying for me.

looks can be deceiving.

especially in this land in which we live.

I have a childhood memory that frequently haunts my mind.

(side note: isn’t it annoying how we remember some of the oddest, most obscure things about childhood, but seem to forget all the important events? like remembering the scary biker neighbor bringing his pet iguana over for a visit but not remembering the birth of a sibling?)

like I was saying… I have this childhood memory that frequently haunts my mind. years and years ago, I was at AWANA (a Bible group for kids) and at this particular Wednesday night meeting, we had a guest speaker. and the speaker had brought two cakes.

one was beautifully decorated. instantly it made my stomach growl and my eyes bug out. a frozen sea of white, creamy frosting glazed the surface and little candy flowers ornamented this miracle of a cake. the other cake was frosted a nasty color… pea green. and it had no flowers or borders, only a light dusting of bitter coffee grounds.

I saw the speaker take out a knife to cut the cakes, and in that moment I knew what was going to happen. the other little girls watched hungrily as the speaker cut into the beautiful cake. I leaned back and cringed.

as you may have guessed, the beautiful cake was nasty on the inside, and the ugly one was filled with springy, yellow yummy-ness.

I wasn’t surprised. but the whole thing bothered me. and I didn’t know why. so the memory grabbed a magazine, got comfortable in some back corner, and for many years only occasionally strolled to the front of my mind to see if I could make anything of it.

after Ruth died, it hit me. a cake that is ugly on the outside and nice on the inside doesn’t exist. and THAT’S what had been bothering me for so long.

you see, we have become so accustomed to living in this land, that we have forgotten what beauty is. beauty isn’t how much frosting you can pile on a cake or how much make-up you can paint on a face. It isn’t how many sugary flowers you can place on top or how many layers of nice clothes you can wear.

beauty is what radiates from a person. beauty is what makes you forget a person’s outward imperfections and only see the smile in their eyes. it’s the kind tone you hear in their voice. it’s the warmth you feel in their grasp. it’s the wrinkles bearing witness to years of smiling friendliness.

beauty is what you find when you stop searching someone’s face for what this land considers beautiful and allow yourself to see something bigger. beauty is allowing yourself to see the King shining through an individual.

I can honestly say I have never met a person who is pure on the inside and ugly on the outside. ugly cakes with perfect middles just don’t exist.

it’s easy to judge a book by its cover. people in this land do it all the time.

what’s harder and not as normal is to judge a cover by the book.

from the inside looking out.

love you!

muffin