This might sound really gossipy. But my mom told me a story that our friend's mom had told her. They have a daughter named Abigail, a funny little girl with a slight British accent who told me proudly that she is "six and three quarters."
We first met Abigail's family at the Granite State speech tournament in February. They live in Boston, but their mom is English, which gives them a unique, memorable accent. Abigail had recently broken her leg badly, so she was wearing a leg brace and had to be pushed around in a wheelchair. However, during the course of the tournament, she got up and started hobbling around, playing games with other kids. They told us later that the exercise had been really good for her. Putting stress on her leg made it heal much more quickly.
At the Regionals tournament in April, Abigail's mom came up to my mom and told her a goosebump-raising story. "I know why Abby broke her leg," she began.
Even with the excellent way her leg was healing, Abigail still had to go to regular rehab appointments. On April 15, they had to see the doctor. Abigail's mom was annoyed that they had scheduled the appointment for a holiday weekend. Besides that, the family had great seats at a race, right near the finish line. But they left early to go to the appointment anyway.
Not long after, everyone heard that two bombs had gone off near the finish line of the Boston Marathon. That rehab appointment, at first a nuisance, probably saved the family's lives. If Abigail hadn't broken her leg they would've been sitting at that finish line.
I'll let that sink in. No conclusion I would write would sufficiently describe this. We have an awesome God.
5/17/13
Angels
Last Sunday's sermon talked about angels quite a bit. It made me think of times I've run across angels.
I used to think that angels didn't appear to people. They were spirits, not to be seen with earthly eyes. I didn't believe all those stories of people dying, seeing heaven, and then coming back. After all, the soul had been separated from the body- how could they be rejoined? I thought the stories were made up. Of course, I did believe in heaven, hell, God, angels, and demons, but it was with a kind of stuck-up faith that rejected proof.
A lot of things happened to change my mind. One night I dreamed that I was standing in my bedroom. It was flooded with yellow light, as it usually is in the morning. There was a line of duct tape dividing the room in half, east and west. I was on the western half with beings I immediately thought of as angels. They were like black gospel singers, dressed in robes of pure white. (Think like the angels in the Veggietales Jonah movie, the ones singing in the belly of the whale, but more human.) The duct tape line was dividing my dresser right in half. I was wondering about crossing the line to get a shirt on the other side, and one of the angels spoke to me in a beautiful, soothing voice. "You're on our side now. The devil can never have you." At first, all I thought of it was that it was a dream. A good dream, that showed the things going through my head while I slept were biblical. A nice dream, that encouraged my heart. But just a dream. A vain fantasy, a childish imagination.
I read parts of the Screwtape Letters, by C.S. Lewis. The book is a collection of letters from a demon, who is training his nephew to tempt a man. The books are completely fictional, but it gave me a look into how demons might work. They attack weaknesses and, although they can't hear what the Enemy (God) is saying, they try to convince "the patient" that He is wrong. This look into the spiritual realm still didn't convince me that the dead go to heaven and come back in the modern era. Sure, it happened during Jesus' time on earth, but that was New Testament stuff, right?
Well, at the Massachusetts Open tournament in March, I saw an Original speech that told the story of the speaker's friend. She had been raised as a Christian, but as she became a teenager, the faith of her childhood faded into doubt. It never seemed like God was with her. When it was time for her wisdom tooth extraction, she was afraid something would go wrong. She went under anesthesia. During the procedure, her heart stopped. She found herself in a beautiful place where she felt totally happy and peaceful. As she realized it must be heaven, though, doubts crept in. Why would she end up here? Jesus appeared before her, and she fell flat on her face. He lifted her up and told her He loved her and had been taking care of her all along. "But I used to pray so much- why didn't You answer me?" "You prayed a lot, but you didn't take much time to listen to My answer." Jesus told her it was time to go back. She couldn't bear to leave- she wanted to stay for all of eternity- but He told her He still had things planned for her, and that He would always be with her.
At the beginning of the speech, I was still doubting the reality. But at a certain point it hit me- What am I thinking?! I'm placing limits on the power of the Creator of the universe. I'm saying that He's not allowed to send souls back to their bodies to finish their lives. Then I began to believe- really believe. Listening to proof that God is real, He's powerful, He loves us. I became very aware of the spiritual battle taking place each day. The Greek word for angel can be defined as "a supernatural being," but more often, it simply means, "messenger." Maybe my dream was more than just a dream. Perhaps God was sending me a message. Worldly cares (like clothing) might distract me, but once I was on God's side, the Devil could have no power over me. I remind him of that. When I am being tempted I actually tell Satan to shut up, sometimes out loud. "Go away. You can't control me- the angels told me so. You made your choice to leave heaven for eternity in hell, so go back in the pit of Tartarus where you belong!"
Once, I was questioning true selflessness. I thought about something selfless I'd done, giving of myself to make someone happy without me. I thought, that wasn't really selfless. It made me happy to see them happy! I was doing it for my own pleasure. It was strange pleasure, but I wanted to see them smile so I could feel like a good person. I thought, even Jesus' sacrifice wasn't totally selfless. He wanted to take on the penalty for our sins because it pleased Him to see us in heaven. With that thought I grew angry. But the Voice came out of nowhere, interrupting my thoughts. "I didn't enjoy suffering." I was awestruck. I had seen God's answers to prayer in what happened around me. But this time, He had spoken directly to me. I was just so amazed, I couldn't get over how awesome He is.
Later, I read two things that made me uneasy. In Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion, Calvin said that if we depend on spiritual revelations, we might be led astray, because even Satan can disguise himself as a spirit of light. When we think we hear the Holy Spirit we must test it against the Bible to make sure it agrees.
In a short book titled Why God Gave Us A Book I read about a woman who had accepted Christ but wasn't reconciling with her parents, because God hadn't told her to. A friend opened the Bible to the fifth commandment, "Honor your father and mother." The author of the book, as far as I read, leaned away from personal revelations, because God has told us all we need to know in the Bible.
Yes He has. But sometimes we don't listen. Sometimes we need a slap across the face and God yelling, "Listen to what I've been telling you!!" Sometimes the girl who feels more at home in church than in her own house needs to be told something right now. Sometimes the girl who has already dedicated her life to God's work has a little doubt creeping in that will make her reject the rest forever. The death of Jesus is central to the Christian faith. Without His sacrifice we have nothing. I could have turned my back on everything I'd lived. Only recently did I find the verse where it says Jesus didn't like suffering- Hebrews 12:1-2. "...looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." The answer was there all along, but God came to me and told me before I closed myself to His word.
Another time that being aware of the spiritual world has helped me was when I was having... well, let's say, a little bit of a lonely lust problem. I knew the Devil was edging into a little weakness to control me, even if it could only be for a little while. Just as I was thinking that I sort of liked it, I remembered what the name Satan means. The Accuser. I thought of Satan turning away from me for a moment to say to God, "See that girl who calls herself Your daughter? She doesn't care anything for you. She's enjoying her sin!" And in that moment I begged God to forgive me for my mistake. True, I let it happen. Satan deceived me into thinking I liked it so that he could make me look bad. And being aware of that put me in a position where I knew what to do to make it right.
A little while ago I heard an interesting story from a close friend. She's had problems with depression on and off ever since her grandmother died- six years ago. She asked, "Is it creepy that last night I felt like my grandmother, who died six years ago, was standing right next to me?" I was able to tell her, not at all. Love comes from the soul, which is eternal. Even the grave does not defeat love. My friend adored her grandmother, and still does. There was still a connection. In the TV show Monk, the main character (Adrian Monk) had lost his wife. Whenever he passed fence posts, pillars, light poles or anything of the sort, he touched each one in turn. We found out at the very end of the series why he did that. When he and Trudy walked hand in hand, they would separate every now and then, going on either side of the pole or fencepost. It was temporary- they'd be rejoined on the other side. I think I remember being close to tears when I realized the implication of that. Trudy and Adrian walked hand in hand through life. Trudy's death separated them, but only temporarily. On the other side of the grave they'd be hand in hand once more.
My friend really, really loved her grandmother. Death cannot take that away.
What made even more sense was that a few days before, she'd prayed that God would show her somehow that He was there for her. God works how He will. Sometimes He does "normal" stuff. But sometimes He uses the love of a grandmother, that cannot be killed. Sometimes He sends us to a Bible verse to tell us what we need to hear, but sometimes He sends us His messengers in dreams, or interrupts our thoughts with His own voice.
I'm not out to make people believe every story of supernatural encounter and buy all the books on supermarket shelves. I just want to say that I have grown to have an open mind. God is her, He's powerful, He loves us, and He tells us in any way that will make us listen.
I used to think that angels didn't appear to people. They were spirits, not to be seen with earthly eyes. I didn't believe all those stories of people dying, seeing heaven, and then coming back. After all, the soul had been separated from the body- how could they be rejoined? I thought the stories were made up. Of course, I did believe in heaven, hell, God, angels, and demons, but it was with a kind of stuck-up faith that rejected proof.
A lot of things happened to change my mind. One night I dreamed that I was standing in my bedroom. It was flooded with yellow light, as it usually is in the morning. There was a line of duct tape dividing the room in half, east and west. I was on the western half with beings I immediately thought of as angels. They were like black gospel singers, dressed in robes of pure white. (Think like the angels in the Veggietales Jonah movie, the ones singing in the belly of the whale, but more human.) The duct tape line was dividing my dresser right in half. I was wondering about crossing the line to get a shirt on the other side, and one of the angels spoke to me in a beautiful, soothing voice. "You're on our side now. The devil can never have you." At first, all I thought of it was that it was a dream. A good dream, that showed the things going through my head while I slept were biblical. A nice dream, that encouraged my heart. But just a dream. A vain fantasy, a childish imagination.
I read parts of the Screwtape Letters, by C.S. Lewis. The book is a collection of letters from a demon, who is training his nephew to tempt a man. The books are completely fictional, but it gave me a look into how demons might work. They attack weaknesses and, although they can't hear what the Enemy (God) is saying, they try to convince "the patient" that He is wrong. This look into the spiritual realm still didn't convince me that the dead go to heaven and come back in the modern era. Sure, it happened during Jesus' time on earth, but that was New Testament stuff, right?
Well, at the Massachusetts Open tournament in March, I saw an Original speech that told the story of the speaker's friend. She had been raised as a Christian, but as she became a teenager, the faith of her childhood faded into doubt. It never seemed like God was with her. When it was time for her wisdom tooth extraction, she was afraid something would go wrong. She went under anesthesia. During the procedure, her heart stopped. She found herself in a beautiful place where she felt totally happy and peaceful. As she realized it must be heaven, though, doubts crept in. Why would she end up here? Jesus appeared before her, and she fell flat on her face. He lifted her up and told her He loved her and had been taking care of her all along. "But I used to pray so much- why didn't You answer me?" "You prayed a lot, but you didn't take much time to listen to My answer." Jesus told her it was time to go back. She couldn't bear to leave- she wanted to stay for all of eternity- but He told her He still had things planned for her, and that He would always be with her.
At the beginning of the speech, I was still doubting the reality. But at a certain point it hit me- What am I thinking?! I'm placing limits on the power of the Creator of the universe. I'm saying that He's not allowed to send souls back to their bodies to finish their lives. Then I began to believe- really believe. Listening to proof that God is real, He's powerful, He loves us. I became very aware of the spiritual battle taking place each day. The Greek word for angel can be defined as "a supernatural being," but more often, it simply means, "messenger." Maybe my dream was more than just a dream. Perhaps God was sending me a message. Worldly cares (like clothing) might distract me, but once I was on God's side, the Devil could have no power over me. I remind him of that. When I am being tempted I actually tell Satan to shut up, sometimes out loud. "Go away. You can't control me- the angels told me so. You made your choice to leave heaven for eternity in hell, so go back in the pit of Tartarus where you belong!"
Once, I was questioning true selflessness. I thought about something selfless I'd done, giving of myself to make someone happy without me. I thought, that wasn't really selfless. It made me happy to see them happy! I was doing it for my own pleasure. It was strange pleasure, but I wanted to see them smile so I could feel like a good person. I thought, even Jesus' sacrifice wasn't totally selfless. He wanted to take on the penalty for our sins because it pleased Him to see us in heaven. With that thought I grew angry. But the Voice came out of nowhere, interrupting my thoughts. "I didn't enjoy suffering." I was awestruck. I had seen God's answers to prayer in what happened around me. But this time, He had spoken directly to me. I was just so amazed, I couldn't get over how awesome He is.
Later, I read two things that made me uneasy. In Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion, Calvin said that if we depend on spiritual revelations, we might be led astray, because even Satan can disguise himself as a spirit of light. When we think we hear the Holy Spirit we must test it against the Bible to make sure it agrees.
In a short book titled Why God Gave Us A Book I read about a woman who had accepted Christ but wasn't reconciling with her parents, because God hadn't told her to. A friend opened the Bible to the fifth commandment, "Honor your father and mother." The author of the book, as far as I read, leaned away from personal revelations, because God has told us all we need to know in the Bible.
Yes He has. But sometimes we don't listen. Sometimes we need a slap across the face and God yelling, "Listen to what I've been telling you!!" Sometimes the girl who feels more at home in church than in her own house needs to be told something right now. Sometimes the girl who has already dedicated her life to God's work has a little doubt creeping in that will make her reject the rest forever. The death of Jesus is central to the Christian faith. Without His sacrifice we have nothing. I could have turned my back on everything I'd lived. Only recently did I find the verse where it says Jesus didn't like suffering- Hebrews 12:1-2. "...looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." The answer was there all along, but God came to me and told me before I closed myself to His word.
Another time that being aware of the spiritual world has helped me was when I was having... well, let's say, a little bit of a lonely lust problem. I knew the Devil was edging into a little weakness to control me, even if it could only be for a little while. Just as I was thinking that I sort of liked it, I remembered what the name Satan means. The Accuser. I thought of Satan turning away from me for a moment to say to God, "See that girl who calls herself Your daughter? She doesn't care anything for you. She's enjoying her sin!" And in that moment I begged God to forgive me for my mistake. True, I let it happen. Satan deceived me into thinking I liked it so that he could make me look bad. And being aware of that put me in a position where I knew what to do to make it right.
A little while ago I heard an interesting story from a close friend. She's had problems with depression on and off ever since her grandmother died- six years ago. She asked, "Is it creepy that last night I felt like my grandmother, who died six years ago, was standing right next to me?" I was able to tell her, not at all. Love comes from the soul, which is eternal. Even the grave does not defeat love. My friend adored her grandmother, and still does. There was still a connection. In the TV show Monk, the main character (Adrian Monk) had lost his wife. Whenever he passed fence posts, pillars, light poles or anything of the sort, he touched each one in turn. We found out at the very end of the series why he did that. When he and Trudy walked hand in hand, they would separate every now and then, going on either side of the pole or fencepost. It was temporary- they'd be rejoined on the other side. I think I remember being close to tears when I realized the implication of that. Trudy and Adrian walked hand in hand through life. Trudy's death separated them, but only temporarily. On the other side of the grave they'd be hand in hand once more.
My friend really, really loved her grandmother. Death cannot take that away.
What made even more sense was that a few days before, she'd prayed that God would show her somehow that He was there for her. God works how He will. Sometimes He does "normal" stuff. But sometimes He uses the love of a grandmother, that cannot be killed. Sometimes He sends us to a Bible verse to tell us what we need to hear, but sometimes He sends us His messengers in dreams, or interrupts our thoughts with His own voice.
I'm not out to make people believe every story of supernatural encounter and buy all the books on supermarket shelves. I just want to say that I have grown to have an open mind. God is her, He's powerful, He loves us, and He tells us in any way that will make us listen.
5/11/13
Parties
I am discovering that I don't really like parties. After each one I go to I am less and less interested. Sure, when I get the invitation, I'm like, "Yippee!!! A party! Get to see lots of people, eat lots of food, what could be better?" But by the end I'm moaning, "What was I thinking?" I just went to a birthday party. My opinion might change later, but right now I really hate parties.
That's how I know I'm introverted. I am energized when I'm alone, and being around a lot of people often drains me. It's not like I dislike people in general. I know humans were made for relationships. All I really want for my life is to be surrounded by people who love me. But the party atmosphere is different. This group of teenagers talked for four hours. The only other thing we did was eat. The conversation was shallow, boring, quite often, inappropriate. (Dear hostess, if you're reading this, I don't mean to offend you. I appreciate you inviting me. I especially loved the times when I got to sit by myself on your shed roof.) What really bugged me was that the group of kids was mainly Christian homeschoolers, but what do you suppose we talked about? Stupidity. Being gay. The girls whispered about cute boys. One girl (she has a boyfriend) kept suggesting that she and my brother take a ride in the go-kart together and tried to figure out who his love interest was. The kids around me joked about racism, homosexuality, genocide, and suicide. I wanted to scream at them to shut up! What they said, the way they lightly discussed killing oneself, was completely offensive. Don't you have a life?! Don't you care about people?! Don't you know people commit suicide every day?! Can't you see that I am *** ** *** **** ****** ******* ******* **** **** ****** **** *******?!?! No, they talk about it as if it's funny.
I don't exactly love being alone. Lately I have been struggling with feelings of isolation. I have four wonderful people who I consider best friends. But three of them live in another state— I get to see them one week a year at camp, if that— and the other, she lives in the same state as I do but our plans to see each other rarely work. What I really want and need is human contact. A hug when I'm down. But not just a hug from any shallow jerk. I want a big house where I can live with all my close friends.
What really energizes me, I guess, is not being alone. It is thinking of these downright AWESOME Christian friends and what we have been through together. Being around people at parties just distracts me from thinking about the important stuff. When I sat alone on the roof I wasn't rejoicing in my solitude. I was wishing I had a computer so I could read my friends' last emails and talk to them via internet— my only method of contact. I missed them and wanted to be with them.
So yes, I am introverted. Being at large gatherings exhausts me. But my personality is more complex than that. I rarely want to be completely alone. I want people— just not a lot of them.
Either way, I don't really like parties. ;)
That's how I know I'm introverted. I am energized when I'm alone, and being around a lot of people often drains me. It's not like I dislike people in general. I know humans were made for relationships. All I really want for my life is to be surrounded by people who love me. But the party atmosphere is different. This group of teenagers talked for four hours. The only other thing we did was eat. The conversation was shallow, boring, quite often, inappropriate. (Dear hostess, if you're reading this, I don't mean to offend you. I appreciate you inviting me. I especially loved the times when I got to sit by myself on your shed roof.) What really bugged me was that the group of kids was mainly Christian homeschoolers, but what do you suppose we talked about? Stupidity. Being gay. The girls whispered about cute boys. One girl (she has a boyfriend) kept suggesting that she and my brother take a ride in the go-kart together and tried to figure out who his love interest was. The kids around me joked about racism, homosexuality, genocide, and suicide. I wanted to scream at them to shut up! What they said, the way they lightly discussed killing oneself, was completely offensive. Don't you have a life?! Don't you care about people?! Don't you know people commit suicide every day?! Can't you see that I am *** ** *** **** ****** ******* ******* **** **** ****** **** *******?!?! No, they talk about it as if it's funny.
I don't exactly love being alone. Lately I have been struggling with feelings of isolation. I have four wonderful people who I consider best friends. But three of them live in another state— I get to see them one week a year at camp, if that— and the other, she lives in the same state as I do but our plans to see each other rarely work. What I really want and need is human contact. A hug when I'm down. But not just a hug from any shallow jerk. I want a big house where I can live with all my close friends.
What really energizes me, I guess, is not being alone. It is thinking of these downright AWESOME Christian friends and what we have been through together. Being around people at parties just distracts me from thinking about the important stuff. When I sat alone on the roof I wasn't rejoicing in my solitude. I was wishing I had a computer so I could read my friends' last emails and talk to them via internet— my only method of contact. I missed them and wanted to be with them.
So yes, I am introverted. Being at large gatherings exhausts me. But my personality is more complex than that. I rarely want to be completely alone. I want people— just not a lot of them.
Either way, I don't really like parties. ;)
5/5/13
The power of Action!
Few people appreciate the truly amazing benefits a little workout can give you. "Working out? Ugh- what a bore." Sure, but wait until you try some medium-to-high intensity exercise.
Aerobic exercise that gets your heart pumping releases endorphins, the feel-good hormones that are also released whenever you smile or laugh (except maybe an evil laugh X-) ). Depressed people can often find themselves feeling better after a workout. A friend of mine who had a problem with depression found that jumping on her trampoline would put her in a better mood without her even realizing it. One Sunday I was not in a terrific mood, but I played a brief game of Ultimate Frisbee after church and felt like I was floating on a cloud of joy. :) I had even lost! The game ended early before my team could catch up. On top of that I'd twisted my ankle. But something about the rigorous activity put me in a terrific mood.
So I don't know what's going on with you, but whatever it is, working out can probably make it better. Obesity- reduced by regular exercise (and a proper diet). Depression- temporarily warded off by a workout. Not a permanent fix, but it's the little victories that count. Grouchy mood- banished by activity. Weak or inflexible muscles- regular exercise is what you need to fix that! Low energy- believe it or not, a short run is extremely refreshing and invigorating. Boredom- play something outside and you can never again have an excuse to be bored! :D
-from your Ultimate Frisbee lover, Johanna
Aerobic exercise that gets your heart pumping releases endorphins, the feel-good hormones that are also released whenever you smile or laugh (except maybe an evil laugh X-) ). Depressed people can often find themselves feeling better after a workout. A friend of mine who had a problem with depression found that jumping on her trampoline would put her in a better mood without her even realizing it. One Sunday I was not in a terrific mood, but I played a brief game of Ultimate Frisbee after church and felt like I was floating on a cloud of joy. :) I had even lost! The game ended early before my team could catch up. On top of that I'd twisted my ankle. But something about the rigorous activity put me in a terrific mood.
So I don't know what's going on with you, but whatever it is, working out can probably make it better. Obesity- reduced by regular exercise (and a proper diet). Depression- temporarily warded off by a workout. Not a permanent fix, but it's the little victories that count. Grouchy mood- banished by activity. Weak or inflexible muscles- regular exercise is what you need to fix that! Low energy- believe it or not, a short run is extremely refreshing and invigorating. Boredom- play something outside and you can never again have an excuse to be bored! :D
-from your Ultimate Frisbee lover, Johanna
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