Write down the revelation

Habakkuk 2:1-3 NIV

¹I will stand at my watch
   and station myself on the ramparts;
I will look to see what he will say to me,
   and what answer I am to give to this complaint.^[a]

The LORD’s Answer

 ² Then the LORD replied:   “Write down the revelation
   and make it plain on tablets
   so that a herald^[b] may run with it.
³ For the revelation awaits an appointed time;
   it speaks of the end
   and will not prove false.
Though it linger, wait for it;
   it^[c] will certainly come and will not delay.

I was struck by this passage this morning. In the three verses, there is so much that speaks this morning.

Write down the revelation and make it plain on the tablets so that a herald may run with it.  

Write the revelation down. This makes me think of how people say to write down your dreams and then watch them happen, as if putting them in writing make something actually happen. I think it's true. When you write things down you give something a voice. Something becomes a bit more solid and more thought out perhaps. The thoughts, even if it's on a sticky note that gets folded up and shoved in a drawer, one day comes around again. A parent’s journal may get leafed through years down the road by a child or grandchild where they discover what made the parent who they were. Tablets with inscriptions get uncovered in archaeological digs that show us more insight to the ancient world.

Can you imagine journals or diaries being thrown away? Entries written, the book filled up, then thrown away with not even a moment taken to read past entries before discarding them. This is what I used to do and now partially wish I'd never done. My thoughts were that they were filled with hurt and pain that I didn't want to relive. I still believe it true that the time period covered in those discard journals was a painful time, but I now know they've been covered by grace and mercy. I’m able to look back with gladness to where I've come from and who God has made me to be because of and in spite of the pain. 

Write down the revelation. I am one who often writes in a journal and my habit has changed. I keep the journals. I pour over them on a regular basis. It's part of my dialogue between God, and myself, and it is something I find so helpful. It allows me to work out emotions and thoughts on paper that just need to escape my head. Reading through them I see where my ancient ruins are and where there was beauty in that.

Some ideas make it from my journal to this blog. I began this blog as a way to chronicle my time in Northern Ireland away from my home and all who was familiar to me. It was a way that people could know some of what was happening in my life while I was here. I think my intentions were to share a bit more of the simple things: I went on a walk here, I met a person with an interesting accent there, school is proving to be _____... and the list goes on. Those are things I have been sharing that, but if you've read any of the blogs it's not the flavor of them all. The blog has become sort of my journal of thoughts and revelations of how God is transforming me and challenging me. I want to write it down and share it, because I can't seem to work it out sometimes when it's only in my head. Sometimes things are disjointed. Ok, honestly, they're often disjointed. I don't claim to be a theologian or historian. I just try to walk daily with God and listen to what He is saying. And then I want to share it, because isn't that what we are called to? When we feel the love of Christ pouring into us, aren't we supposed to share it with others?

There is also a part of the above verse that says so that a herald may run with it. A herald is a person who reads what's written. My words, my thoughts, get written here and I do come back to them. However blogs aren’t meant for the writer. Once a post is up, I don't know who all reads them or how the find it. A few unexpected readers have told me that they have, and I can only think that it is God's hand doing that. My incomplete thoughts, mediocre grammar, and hopeful seeking are tools I get to put to use. Let people read and run with it. I hope it’s something to learn from, question, discuss.

For the revelation awaits an appointed time.

I write this blog, because I am learning from God. And I am waiting on God. I've said it loads of times. There is something big He's doing in me and that it is why I am in Northern Ireland. He clearly called me here, but now that I’m here it is time to wait. Changes are happening, slowly. I write what changes I see. Look at the way The Message write part of this passage:

This vision-message is a witness pointing to what's coming. It aches for the coming—it can hardly wait!

It describes it as an ache. Yeah, that sounds about right. Sometimes it has felt like a physical ache to know what God is doing, to know what his vision is pointing to. I’ve never thought about how it might be an ache for God to fulfill his promises for us. 

Wait for it

The end of that passage reads "Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay." Two concepts that are complete opposites are in that phrase- linger and will not delay- is hard sometimes for me to reconcile. It's not hard to reconcile for the Lord. Where we see linger, he sees will not delay. 

He will continue to show me His way as I seek for it. I will keep waiting. I will keep writing. I will trust. 

My prayer for this comes from a book I am reading on Waiting, the same that highlighted this verse.

Lord, when you give a definite promise, or confirm that one of our most potent dreams will come to pass, it's really hard when nothing appears to happen. Help us neither lose sight of your promise nor obsess about it. That's a big ask, Lord- we're only human! And we don't see everything clearly — for example that we're maturing in the process or that you want us to complete something now that we won't be able to do then. Be with us in the waiting. Help us to enjoy all the good things that life offers in the meanwhile. Help us to listen to you, day by day, in the little things — and then help us to do what you say. Waiting- Reflections, Stories and prayers, by Chris Leonard

found image on http://www.lylaandblu.com/post/16645732793-

Celebrate Waiting By Celebrating The Mundane.

This week- I’m feeling a bit off. It is just one of those weeks that it doesn’t feel right but nothing bad has really happened. To be honest, I was ready for something to start, and when I had to wait it threw me off my game. 

For weeks, I’ve been psyching myself up for the beginning my second semester of my Master’s program. I thought that it was yesterday that I began again however, early in the week I was thrown off completely when I found out it was next Thursday my course resumes a normal schedule. It’s not a huge deal to wait for that but it’s not what I’d prepared for.

Though uni didn’t start again, I still had to wake up myself up, get on a bus and head back to Derry begrudgingly.  I wasn’t going for a lecture but to sign my name on a little piece of paper that says I’m still legally in Northern Ireland. 

It seems sort of crazy sometimes that I have to make the hour and five minute bus ride to the other side of the country only just to sign a piece of paper for the UK Border Agency. With my particular type of Visa, I have to report every week I am still in the country and it can’t be done at the campus that is in Coleraine.

Even though I haven’t wanted to make the trip on occasion, every time I do I am reminded of the adventure that I get to be on.

In my first days in Northern Ireland, a lot of memories were forever imprinted in my mind. It was the second day as my friend and I made our way out of Ballymoney, through Coleraine, across Limavady Mountain, and into Londonderry. It was mid-morning, and I was feeling jet lag mixed with excitement as I sat on the wrong side of the car, watching new scenery go by and falling in love with this country. Every time I board the bus and begin the trek, I am reminded of that morning.  Every time I pass a field, I remember a word spoken. When I pass a certain farm, I remember a look. When I see a tunnel of trees, I remember thinking it was like an epic tale coming to life.

Truth is that day was grand, but it wasn’t the marked point of beginning for anything other than that day. We sit around waiting for an larger-than-life story to come about. I’m more and more convinced that the moments we often mistake as mundane are the ones that are truly the epic ones. We’re just too caught on a bigger picture that we bypass the smaller ones. Everyday, every event has potential to be something more. I want to make the monotony of life epic. 

Every day I get to do something I’ve never done before. We all can. I’m not special over another person because of where I am. There is just a heightened awareness, I suppose, that I have because everything feels brand new being in a new country.

I had to travel to Derry yesterday and I already said I did it begrudgingly at first. On the bus I was reminded of my adventure. So, I chose to celebrate the mundane.

Yesterday I browsed a used bookstore. It looked interesting from the outside and inside it was awesome. As he ate oat biscuits (cookies) and honey straight from the jar, the shopkeeper and I chatted about his shop. It had been around for 20 years in that location and another 20 years somewhere else. I spoke of the many volumes housed on his shelves that would be hard to come by in the States. He asked what I’d find at home and he got all excited about books on the ‘Wild West’. I love books and want my own library in my future home, so this killed me that I couldn’t buy anything on that trip, and it killed the shop owner too. But I’ll have to go back.

Next door to this shop, was the most inviting coffee shop called the Boston Tea Party. I’ve never been in, but I’d seen it on a tourism film, so I decided it was time to go. It was a perfect place for tea and a warm mince pie mid-afternoon.

Across the redbrick walkway was a tourist shop full of postcards, sheep, Celtic knots, woolen clothing, and Guinness memorabilia. The woman working in the shop sat next to a kettle and had just poured a cup of tea as if she was waiting for her friend to arrive.

Later, I boarded the bus again, ready to put these thoughts down. These simple things made my heart full. 

I’m not going to pretend that I not hoping for more exciting things to happen in my life. I want more striking tales. We should have an expectancy of more as we grow and learn. I came to Northern Ireland prepared for something semi-defined, and it's not what I am receiving. It threw me off. I’m in a time of life where I’m waiting for some of what I'd prepared for. I also know that I had misled preparation and some things just are not happening. 

Waiting feels less than impressive. When time passes excitement can fade and difficult thoughts are thrown in the mix. We don't want to deal with the ugly, but I can understand that there are beautiful things in waiting, like grace, knowledge, wisdom, strength. That second day, traveling through Northern Ireland, was not a short trip. A lot of time passed. It was a memorable day as it was also filled with a few weird silences, swirling questions, and fear.

But I like to think that I’ve come along in my knowledge to be conscious that life is now. I like to remember events as they show me where I've come from. There are things I’m called to do in this moment even while I wait for XYZ. The adventure is in the moment.

I challenge you and I challenge me- as we wait (or waited) for something to start, not to become thrown off our game when it doesn’t happen when we expect it to. There are better things being prepared for us.

Lady Wisdom

I enjoyed living alone. Yet I love having housemates. I love having housemates who seek after God's heart passionately! Seriously, I wish that I could record some of the conversations that happen in our home (I don't, it's a little creepish). If these conversations could be heard there would be expressions of excitement, wonder, and dreaming. There would be words of anguish, desire, and frustration. You'd hear of searching, longing, and hope. All of these words are a reflection of how God is showing himself uniquely to each woman that lives here.

The four of us are very different. We come from different countries and backgrounds so we experience life through different lenses. We each have areas that are very important to us where we are trying to grow and flourish.

Last Friday night Anna B and I were in the living room huddled around the fire. I was writing my last blog and Anna was journaling. Then Anna D came home and joined us by the fire. She too began writing or journaling. After a bit I stopped and took in the scene. All of our brains were working and processing through things. Ideas and dreams, thoughts and words were being cultivated. I sat there in the quiet just wondering what we all were thinking so diligently about. 

Awakening

I hear the crunching of the gravel beneath me feet. I see birds and little lizards darting about between the cacti and shrubs. I taste the dust that is swirling around me.  I smell the new morning air. I feel the warmth of the sun as it begins rising over the ridges. As I begin my early morning hike along the trails of South Mountain in the deserts of Phoenix, a melody drifts from my iPod growing from a simple note to a symphony. A cry comes from my heart:

For You and You alone
Awake my soul, awake my soul and sing
-Awakening, Chris Tomlin

These early morning hikes were my favorite. The trails had very few people on them.  Even the animals and plants seemed to be slowly waking up, as I would make my way up the mountain. I had yet to be distracted by the day's activities. I would hike up to the top of a ridgeline and sit and watch the valley come alive with the yellows and blues of the sunrise. And I would connect with God. I'm not sure that it was on these hikes where I knew Awaken (awake, awoke, and all the various forms) would be my word for 2011, but it was here that I really saw it begin to unfold in my life.