Amazing Grace
{Sunday} 1
Happy Sunday.
Throughout undergrad, Sundays meant the day I would take a nap and not set an alarm. It’s such a wonderful feeling to know you don’t have to wake up until you’re fully rested.
Every season brings a new meaning to Sunday.
Sabbath reinvents itself but spells rest in a way every exhausting week needs to read.
Sometimes Sabbath means reading a book, running, or even… blogging.
Today, Sabbath means processing.
Church this morning was somewhat of an awakening. Our pastor shared about freedom from shame– shame that we all have whether we say it or not. It was raw.
I could feel the veils of hidden regrets fall. For one of the first times in church, it seemed like everyone was ok with admitting we are all struggling, failing, but redeemed humans.
Afterward we walked outside to a fight right outside our doors and five police cars pulled before we made it to our “Sunday lunch.”
It was a reminder that Sunday morning we proclaim freedom and joy and redemption,
but we need to pray for freedom and joy and redemption… constantly.
There’s a tension between the peace I feel within church,
singing as a community, and claiming truth
&
the pain that sits right outside the door.
the pain that begins at 12:01 as soon as our worshipping body splits for the day.
I’m not sure what to do with this tension, but I’m acknowledging it.
I acknowledge it amidst my perfect little Sunday with my outrageously expensive coffee in hand.
I acknowledge there’s a pain that worshipping on Sunday morning doesn’t fix.
I acknowledge that this is sometimes confusing,
but I acknowledge that Christ is Hope and I will choose Christ over and over and over again.
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Perspective
image found here
Love this.
Love the perspective.
(kinda) Love the little punch right into my self-centeredness.
Love the reality check.
I love how my to-do list & unopened emails & awkward comments & failed workout plans…
are all part of the circumstances that crumble into insignificance before
God’s Plan.
God’s Plan for me.
my future.
tomorrow.
for my growth.
my character.
my sifting.
my relationship with him.
Be encouraged
amidst
unknowns, questions, broken relationships, self doubt, insecurity
a plan far exceeds it all.
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CommentSifting & Drifting
Last week in class we talked about how sometimes the toughest times in life aren’t always the worst circumstances. When something tragic happens people gather around us with support, we throw up our hands in a public surrender that invites sympathy, and we run to the Lord for strength because He’s all we have.
But, sometimes hard times can be when there is one small disruption after another. We brush off pain and annoyances with “it’s not a big deal” or “they don’t get to me” or “I can fit this in my schedule.”
We don’t realize the building wariness at first.
We keep our heads down and plow through setback after setback. Before we know it, a red light or a long line can send us into a frenzy.
In my case today, a cracked computer screen brought me to tears that lasted longer than I want to admit. I crumbled, and I thought of this:
In Luke, Jesus says…
Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.
When I’ve read this verse in the past, I’ve always thought of sifting being like Job’s loss– a hero who lost everything and still chose God. I envisioned sifting as tragedy, death, and sickness. After talking about what sifting can look like in class, I realized sifting doesn’t always look like visible tragedy.
Perhaps, sifting also takes place in the daily situations that perpetually don’t go our way.
Normally, a cracked computer screen wouldn’t bother me because my computer guru fiance can fix it. But, it was the car going into the shop, the headache, running late, feeling unnoticed, & **wedding plans** that all built up to the “final little thing.”
I know I need God when I get in a bind.
I also need God before I get in a bind.
It’s these frustrations that purify us and show us our character– whether we want to see it or not. It’s the small things– the ordinary disturbances– that can sift us to the core.
This kind of sifting is like a slow and steady undercurrent to life. If we’re not careful, we won’t realize we’re being carried downstream until we are far, far from home.
If we are wise, we will jump up on the bank and dig our roots deep, deep into the steadiness of our Lord.
I don’t want sifting to send me drifting.
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CommentI Cannot Wait to Know You
Up until this week Clayton and I didn’t know where we’d be living or what jobs we would be doing. All we knew was that we were getting married May 18th and prayed that the answers to those questions would be coming soon.
Well, soon came this week with a bang.
Clayton accepted a job offer to work at PricewaterhouseCoopers accounting firm in Houston for next year (summer 13), and I learned I will serve as Resident Chaplain in Collins dorm starting in August! I waited months (literally!) to hear about this position. I was trying on clothes at JCrew when I received the call, and I was so anxious about the news that I walked straight out of JCrew wearing their clothes!
Here’s a picture of our new home! I’m so excited, expectant, and hopeful and am already brainstorming and dreaming about next year. Clayton and 615 girls. It’s quite the funky first year of marriage, but it’s all my favorite in one place–Clayton, ministry, & Collins quesadillas. mmmm.
Dear Collins girls,
I don’t know your story yet, but I cannot wait to hear it. I cannot wait to watch your story unfold.
I cannot wait to walk alongside you as you navigate freshman year, learn how to really study, and establish your identity in a way you never imagined.
I pray for you every time I drive by Collins {which is often because I love your neighbor Common Grounds}. I cannot wait for you to fall in love with Rodeo coffee, experience Baylor Homecoming, and see BU Athletics dominate again.
I cannot wait to know you. Until then, I’ll be praying for you. See you in August.
Love, Caroline
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Commenta spill is a spill
So this whole color blocking style trend…
Well, I took my stab at it and I was so proud when I mixed a yellow belt with a striped green shirt. Ya know those moments when you’re like… wow, my style doesn’t stink as much as it used to? (usually these moments are realized when looking through facebook pictures…). Anyway, I had that moment.
My perfect little outfit was such a good combination that I wore the exact same thing two days in a row (a joy of having a MWF life and a TR life that don’t cross).
My outfit gave me that boost like new school shoes do on the first day of class when you ease out of summer.
And then, I spilled coffee on my shirt.
I stood in front of the Starbucks mirror and all I saw was that spill. It seemed huge and threw everything else off. MAN.
I always spill.
I mean always.
and when I spill, I don’t see what is right; I only see the spill; I only see what is wrong– what is off.
No one else will see my spill.
They couldn’t care any less about the coffee that found a home on my striped shirt, so why the heck do I?
I never see spills on other people; they never see them on me.
I’m my toughest critic, and I bet you’re your toughest critic too.
Does your inner critic speak truth? Or does it obsess over accidental spills, missteps, and those times you wish you could suck your words back into your mouth?
The spill doesn’t ruin your outfit.
Your mistake doesn’t ruin– or even taint– your redemption.
The spill is not the end; the shirt will be washed clean and fully forgiven.
a spill is a spill; it’s all covered by the cross.
Confess, weep, apologize, repent.
but then accept forgiveness.
Be a friend to yourself.
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Goals in Check
This coming Saturday my closest friends– my Texan bridesmaids– and I are running the Hot Chocolate 5k/15k. I’m stoked. We’re all running the same race, but we’re training with completely different goals.
On Friday after running 10 miles I could barely bring myself to walk the .25 back to my house. I made it to my front porch and immediately fell asleep in a lawn chair– who knew you could go from exercising to napping so quickly? Probably not so healthy.
Back in the day I quit in the middle of a race and sat down. Yes, sat down on the sideline. Thus, my goal is to cross the 15k finishline… and not immediately fall asleep.
Hanna is trying to complete the 15k fast. She doesn’t do anything without 110% plus some.
Catie might be running the 5k for the chocolate and fondue at the end of the race.
The 5k will be Nincy’s first race. She’s been working diligently to get up to 3 miles– each run she’s so close but she keeps coming up short. This morning she called herself pathetic for not making it 3 miles.
Boy, I’ve felt like that. If I dwell on it too much, I can let Hanna’s goal of running faster get to me too, just like most people would love to have Nincy’s discipline of running 2.5 miles every day.
I know Nincy can run 3.1. Easily. The laws of running tell me she can. But, I also know that the world keeps turning whether or not she makes it, and the world will keep turning if I stumble across the 15k finish line within an hour (yea right!) or 3 hours.
I’m such a fan of goals. I keep them before me always; they keep me disciplined. But, I also know that goals can be the strongest voice of condemnation in my life. They tells me lies as my head hits the pillow, reminding me that I didn’t do what I wanted to do.
Self-esteem should never be dependent upon 6/10′s of a mile or a matter of minutes or… a few pounds, grades, a bank statement, or a job.
We are all going to put our best foot forward (a million times over!), and step-by-step all 4 of us are going to cross the finish line. And no matter how we do, there’s going to be chocolate at the end.
In the words of my fiance who keeps me in check, it’s about the process not the result.
It’s about training, not the time.
It’s about a healthy lifestyle, not the scale.
It’s about sharing the gospel, not the conversion.
It’s about education, not the grade.
May goals be our friends & keep us from sitting down during the race, but never be the holder of self-esteem.
Run on.
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CommentHey There
In a matter of days I'm going to marry my college sweetheart Clayton. I'll be the resident chaplain at a girls dormitory this year... which will add a few quirks to our first year of marriage. I've been adopted into Texas culture and I keep Sonic in business. I blog about faith and the struggles with faith. My first name is Jane; I'm Caroline.
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To my single friends, I just posted a cute picture of Clayton and I on Facebook. 10 minutes later we were sitting in my driveway talking about how his stress was overwhelming me and how he was stressed because I was overwhelmed. Dumb. […]
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