Amy's Oasis

"For lo, the winter is past,

The rain is over and gone.  

The flowers appear on the earth;

The time of singing has come,

And the voice of the turtledove

Is heard in our land."  S of S:11-12

They say Philadelphia is beautiful in the springtime.  As I walked to the train station today, I began to see what "they" meant.  The flowering trees are already beginning to bloom, and daffodils & crocuses are everywhere.  Not to mention the birds . . . I love springtime!

I also made a "surprise" visit home this weekend . . . thanks to a wonderful boyfriend and his spur-of-the-moment wonderful dreams. :)  It was so good to see everyone again ("S-E-E" as Steve's mom said . . .).  Good times at the park with my ecsatic siblings, a surprise double date with Matt and Chrissy, and then crashing Carol-Lee's party.  Not to mention saying a quick goodbye to my lovely friend Sarah who will be in Africa for a year, worshipping in Steve's church (hearing my dad's preaching and Lou's piano playing again!!) and relaxing with Steve's family and my family @ his house.  And to top it all off, staying over @ Ruth and Matt's. Let's just say it was a great time . . . and this morning's plane ride feels like it happened a decade ago.  

I finished off a class today.  It was such a bitter-sweet ending.  Lots of tears and encouragement and goodbyes.  Hearing stories of how God worked in these womens' lives and telling my own story, and then praying for such a long time together was so beautiful - such a reminder of the awesome greatness of our God, His love and the wonderful fellowship of the saints.  

I cannot wait for eternal spring . . . 

"I'll watch as the cold winter melts into spring

And I'll be remembering you . . . "

- Narnia C.D., Steven Curtis Chapman (?)

Okay, so I realize I'm taking that song totally out of context, but seriously, this warm spring is making me happy and also bringing back a lot of memories of a lot of people and places . . .

For instance: As I head from the tiny stone train station to school, I smell the earth and the growing things of the country. I pass somone working in their flowerbed, cleaning all the dead things from around the tiny shoots. Suddenly what I want most in all the world is to take off my shoes and socks, grab a cultivator, and dig into that dirt. Even more I want my mom and my sisters to be working with me, my cat to come and wind himself around my ankles and sniff my cultivator every once in a while, my dad to poke his head out and make a smart remark every now and then, my "big" brother to be tinkering in the driveway with the lawnmower, moped or car.

As I keep walking, I pass a lawnmower shop. The smells of gasoline and the dried grass stuck to the bottoms of the machines bring back memories of Borgdorff's shop, Mr. Borgdorff, Mr. Schmidt, Ruth, my brother . . . "walks" with Ruth in the escarptment . . . running by the shop, trying to protect a muddy Ruth from familiar eyes . . .(good times, good times :P). The lawn mower that one of the men is driving around outside is really fast. Memories of the guys in the youth group taking turns mowing the lawn @ Borgdorff's come back, my brother mowing our own lawn time after time, the neighbor.

Someone walks by me licking a popsicle. Now my memories go way back to when I was around 3 or 4, hanging out with Jaclyne and other little friends, going to VBS at Stuarts, making our own popsicles at Oma's and laughing as they broke. My mom, sitting under the big maple tree at Oma's, handing out the popsicles to little bare-backed boys, a pigtailed Chrissy. I think my popsicle was purple, although I could be wrong.

So many precious memories. I could go on forever . . .

"For who is God, except the LORD?

And who is a rock, except our God?

It is God who arms me with strength,

And makes my way perfect.

He makes my feet like the feet of deer,

And sets me on my hight places.

He teaches my hands to make war,

So that my arms can bend a bow of bronze.

You have also given me the shield of Your salvation;

You right hand has held me up,

Your gentleness has made me great.

You enlarged my path under me,

So my feet did not slip. . .

The LORD lives!

Blessed be my Rock!

Let the God opf my salvation be exalted."

Ps. 18:31-36;46

A combination of eating kettle-popped corn from my friend Arlene (which, by the way, is my dad's specialty) and the fact that I just talked to my parents on the phone (finally!! ;P) is making me nostalgic right now . . . in a happy, wistful kind of way.  I was also talking to Cher on the phone the other day, and we were just alternating between being ecstatically happy for each other and feeling crazy over the ways our lives have taken.  A few years ago, we were kids dreaming over our futures, laughing over possibilities and wondering where we would be in a few years.  Now we are kids with our dreams becoming tangible before our very eyes.  How did this happen so fast? 

Looking back over my life and looking forward to the future, I cannot help but remember the perfect Author of my story.  Eighteen years have just gone by so fast . . . and have been so beautiful, even through sin, even through suffering.  Life is truly "but a breath", (Thank-you, Jesus! Amen, come quickly!) and yet here we are, still in the mess, still living in the murky mud of the wonderful "already-not-yet".  And it is so worth it.  Worth it to see God working out His perfect plan.  Worth it to be sitting here in the dusky dawn on the stone table, beginning to see "death itself begin to work backward".  Worth it to see Christ using even my very sin and utter failures for his glory.  Worth it to see the very laws of nature and gravity defied.  

What is life in the light of eternity?  When we all get to heaven and are living in timeless joy, what will our lives on earth look like I wonder?  Utterly, utterly paltry, insignificant.  A drop in the ocean of God's amazing love and grace.  All that will matter is that a chasm as wide as eternity was bridged.  A ladder has been placed from the Bethel of our hearts to the very height of God Himself.  His promise is to us.  Our stories are being written by the "Author and Perfector of our faith."

Every ending is a good ending.

Pella, Iowa, 1991

Daddy said we were going swimming- swimming in the flood. I saw it now, as he unclipped the seatbelt on my carseat. It was not a regular beach, with fine sand to play in with my new yellow bucket. It was rocky, and the water was strangely close to the road. "Look!" Mommy was crouching next to me now, and I followed her pointing finger with my eyes. "This used to be a campground, just a few weeks ago. See the tops of the outhouses?" I saw them, and looked carefully at the water, suddenly suspicious. Were there tents and things down there too? Were there . . . other things? She laughed at my bewildered face. "It's okay, it's safe to swim here." I wasn't so sure. Everything was huge to me, and scary. I had a sudden desire to go back to the apartment- back to the little plastic tub that Dad had filled with water for us. Floods belonged to the pictures of Noah's ark in the story Bible -- the pictures in the big church Bibles that had those people clinging to the tops of rocks- clothes swirling in the water and plastered wetly to their bodies and their hands stretched out in the falling rain . . .

Ripples danced before my eyes, and I could barely make out my daddy swimming a little way off against the brightness of the sun. My sister was toddling to the water now- her tiny 1-year-old body encased in a frilly teal & pink polka-dotted bathing suit. She never had fear about these things. I turned to look for my yellow bucket.

She was drowning- I knew it. I had not even heard the splash as she went under. My entire body went rigid with horror as I stared at the swaying waves. Her face was yellowey-white, her eyes wide, her mouth open in a silent plea. She was limpid, her blonde hair as liquid as the water, her limbs listless and unstruggling. Grandpa's sacrin tablets . . . slowly becoming nothing in his cup of coffee . . .

I did not hear myself start to scream. Mom seemed so far away, and Dad was even farther. My body felt weak, my feet bolted to the beach. Maria . . . No . . .

A few steps and a sweep of mom's arm was all it took. Maria was safe now, her little face puckered as she coughed and choked and shivered. Safe. She was safe. The rainbow remained.

Why is it that we so often lose sight of this fact? For me, it is not so much about myself- I can see hard situations in my life and still be happy in the fact that no situation is a bad situation with a God who works everything out for the good of those that trust Him. I can endure a lot of pain, separation, and hard situations. I see them as opportunities to grow, to react in a way that is pleasing to God, to reflect Him to others. But I often fail to trust God in other's lives.

I see you drowning out there, the waves sweeping over your soul. I see your helplessness. I even see the fact that you are not even trying anymore, and it hurts. It horrifies me. I cannot stand to think that you might be swept down into that black water, down to the turmoil of roots and tents and branches that used to be a beautiful campground. All I can do is scream, helpless and too weak to pull you up. All I can do is cry out to the one who is larger than I.

To a human mind, God seems so far away. We are so small- and we limit God to our own abilities. And yet, He is more than able! He who promised is faithful, who also will do it- not only in our own lives, but also in others'. No depth is too deep that His arm cannot reach- no distance too far that He cannot be there in an instant. He has set his rainbow in the clouds- not only as a sign between Himself and me personally, but as a sign between Himself and "all flesh that is on the earth"! (Gen. 9:13 -17)

Considering that my blog stats say that over 100 people looked at my blog today, I can only come to the conclusion that certain people are very eager to hear about my weekend . . . am I right??

Well . . . Steve and I had a great time. We did so many things that it all seems like a happy blur now. It was kind of crazy and overwhelming to have him here, to be in Philadelphia of all places, to be going out with him of all people. But it was good. It was good to be getting to know each other better, to be laughing together, to be praying together.

Favorite memories?

- going to feed the homeless with some people from the church and being totally humbled and broken by the Lord

- sitting by the huge fountain in center city enjoying the lights

- showing him around campus and having him come to one of my classes

- reading together and being unable to keep from laughing at . . . certain sentences

- doing devotions together

- walking in the woods and unsuccessfully trying to take pictures of ourselves

- going to church . . . and hearing the awe-inspiring music at 10th Presbyterian church

- taking over the second floor of a piano store and playing praise and worship music together

- eating lobster for the first time in chinatown

- rollerblading . . . *choke, cough . . . or attempting to- and the priceless look on an elderly gentleman's face as I came careening down the bumpy sidewalk, trying to stop myself, with Steve close behind- also trying to stop me

- supper with the Bradfords

- thanksgiving dinner just before he left for home

- etc, etc.

God is so good. I hope you all had a good thanksgiving! It is so incredible that God would give such good gifts to His children! How can we not be joyful, when we serve such a God?

There are so many people out there struggling with the existence of an actual God, a real heaven, a literal hell. They hate the idea of God, because an all-powerful being suggests someone who is greater than the self, someone who they will ultimately be accountable to. Think about it- why is it that people get the most upset when you talk about your faith in God?

I remember conversations I had in public high school vividly- especially the ones in my sociology class. The guy sitting in the desk ahead of me was a complete, self-confessed egnostic- almost an athiest. He sometimes got so upset with me over my convictions. He didn't just brush off the obvious fact that I was stupid- he got angry. Why?

One time we were discussing the existence of God. I was forced to speak to him very bluntly and said something like this: "You know, I cannot prove the existence of God to you, just as I can't prove that you yourself exist. But I believe in Him because I have seen the things he has done and because of what He means to me. If God is real, and I have taken the risk and believed in Him my entire life, I will not only be a very fulfilled person in this life, but I will gain everything when I die. If you are right and there is no God, I will have lost nothing. I will simply go to sleep and never wake up again- and I still will have had a more fulfilling life, because I will have lived for something greater than myself. If God isn't real, if there is nothing out there that is greater than myself, why don't we all just die now and not have any more suffering on earth?" He looked me in the eye and said, "Wait a minute- you believe that your life doesn't have meaning without God?" I just smiled at him and said, "Yes, I do believe that." He laughed in my face. I was a loser for being so dependant on a "myth". I was a loser because I didn't think of myself as a "good" person. I was a loser becuase I had low self-esteem and self-confidence levels and I was crippling myself.

C.S. Lewis said: "If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world . . . If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for the something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage." "All your life an unattainable ecstasy has hovered just beyond the grasp of your consciousness. The day is coming when you will wake to find, beyond all hope, that you have attained it, or else, that it was within your reach and you have lost it forever."

All I can say is, if I can experience this level of fulfillment on earth, I cannot imagine the depths of fulfillment that are waiting for us in heaven! That is something worth both dying and living for.

I miss . . .

I miss my family, my friends. I miss big open spaces, jogs in the golf courses with just me and the stars and the soft grass under my feet. I miss being able to be alone outside at night. I miss my little brother and sister coming out to meet me with cries of "Mamy's home!!" and their little hugs. I miss our church. I miss the feeling of knowing someone so well, you are able to read their thoughts. I miss Heather V.O.'s laugh and talks with Naomi and eye contact with Hammy, and a million different things about every single person in the youth group. I miss playing the piano. A lot. I miss the kids I babysit. I miss talks with people at work. I miss the sight of a truly beautiful bunch of flowers. I miss the sound of the country- with no gunshots, sirens, screams, or constant roar of traffic marring the silence. I miss petting cats. I miss sharing a room with my sister . . . in a way. I miss the shoes and clothes I forgot at home.

And yet-

I love . . .

I love new experiences, new challenges. I love my new family. I love experiencing city life, exploring. I love seeing new kinds of people- am fascinated by the accents and expressions all around me. I love being able to experience a different church, and fellowship with different believers. I love the things that God is teaching me. I love my classes, my teachers, my assignments. I love the feeling of being exactly where God wants me to be. I love feeling secure, even at night in a train station with creepy guys and a busy street (and pepper spray! :P) for company. I love trying out new foods. I love making new friends. I love seeing the incredible hand of God in my life. I love the fact that my room is neat! :P I love the feeling of really good talks on the phone and e-mails. I love being able to have really good, spiritual discussions. I love learning to counsel people. I love seeing people's jaws drop when I tell them about myself. I love not having a busy schedule. I love my new little African-American friend next door- Tyrell.

I love the fact that God is the same- yesterday, today, and forever.

Today I took two of my little sisters shopping. Wow, fun times! Every stop we would make they would sneak something else into the cart- just to see if I would notice. Once I turned around from picking out the granola bars Mom needed, only to see stacks of candy in the cart. Another time I returned from looking for baby wipes to see that my kind sisters were generously donating all the cute baby undershirts my future kids would ever need! Wow, amazing to have such considerate sisters. Especially when they seem to be walking calmly and happily beside you . . . and you find out that they are walking away in pairs of spike heels! We had a ton of fun- especially running and sliding down all those cool isles that the new Wal-Mart grocery section has! Maturity? What is that?

Why does it often take impending separation to make us realize what we will be missing? I know that much of my life I have spent being my own independent individual. Often that has separated me from the ones that I love most. I can only pray that my siblings learn from my example, rather than following it . . . excepting the running and sliding, of course. Who would want to cheat them out of that experience?