surprised by love

You never said it would be easy.

There are certain days where I'm unsure if they actually occured. I vaguely remember waking up and falling asleep again at some point, but all the details are blurred. It's almost as if the whole day was just a nightmare I wished I could wake up from but when I finally did, I was terrified to discover it wasn't a dream at all, but reality.
And in reality I spent the entire day praying that I could somehow take back the previous one. Like, God, let me please relive that day and do things differently, or erase certain blocks of time, or just completely bypass it all as if it never existed. And when that doesn't work (because why would it?) I cry into my pillow until there are no tears left to shed and I'm too exhausted to pray anymore.
I'll wake up fully prepared to feel the same, because afterall, it was just yesterday. But even in the midst of feeling like garbage and utterly hopeless, I unexpectedly find peace and more love than I thought was possible, especially so soon. Beyond all reason and despite the circumstances, something that I really can't explain or quite put into words lifts me up and fills me with hope. And although it doesn't make sense, I know this hope is real. I'm not saying I don't cry still, just trying to take long breaks in between.
It's only during those rare and feared instances that we discover just how strong we really are. We don't fully comprehend our capacity to endure adversity and overcome horrific hardships until we're in the thick of it, already on our way out. And moreover, it's particularly during a crisis when we realize how incredibly and perfectly loved we are, regardless of how undeserving we feel or how resistant we may be. We come to understand more tangibly this grace that really saves and a love that truly heals.
It's scary to admit our need of anything or anyone. But it's when we're left with no alternative and the object of our necessity comes through and is there over and over again that it becomes something beautiful and safe. The point is, we never know what's going to happen tomorrow. Our lives can change in a hot second, beyond our planning, past our control of trying so hard to avoid. Afterall, even the most perfect days have the potential to end in rain. But when we know there's someone who will carry us through it all, surprising us with love and even joy, it's not so bad.

You took my mourning and turned it into dancing.
You took my weeping and turned it into laughing.
You took my sadness and turned it into joy.


*for k & j.

redeemed.

It's incredible how a single, isolated incident can indefinitely alter one's perspective with a vicious lie, threatening to disable and ultimately steal any prospect of true freedom and fulfillment. But what's even more amazing is as swiftly as the lie crept in, Jesus comes with the power and authority to replace those doubts with faith and fear with love. We're left with a new glorious identity, remedy to breathe easier, because we're rescued, once again, by His saving grace.


Isaiah 62

1 For Zion's sake I will not keep silent,
for Jerusalem's sake I will not remain quiet,
till her righteousness shines out like the dawn,
her salvation like a blazing torch.
2 The nations will see your righteousness,
and all kings your glory;
you will be called by a new name
that the mouth of the LORD will bestow.

3 You will be a crown of splendor in the LORD's hand,
a royal diadem in the hand of your God.

4 No longer will they call you Deserted,
or name your land Desolate.
But you will be called Hephzibah,
and your land Beulah;
for the LORD will take delight in you,
and your land will be married.

5 As a young man marries a maiden,
so will your sons marry you;
as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride,
so will your God rejoice over you.

12 They will be called the Holy People,
the Redeemed of the LORD;
and you will be called Sought After,
the City No Longer Deserted.

everday.

There's something mystical that occurs on certain nights from the moment I lay my head down on my pillow up until the sound of the harp on my alarm clock the next morning. It's almost as if I subconsciously allow the enemy to sneak into my room and whisper not-so-sweet-nothings into my ear until I'm convinced of these horrible lies when I wake up. No matter how wonderful the previous day was or how confident I was in myself or the world, the next day I'm filled with serious doubts, insecurities and this gigantic, ugly lie telling me I'm unlovable and insignificant- seemingly out of nowhere. Please don't tell me this is schizophrenia. I know this sounds crazy. I told a few girlfriends during dinner last week and they were genuinely concerned. But I can't shake off this feeling and it's exhausting. Sometimes when I go running by myself or have a meal alone, God speaks to me so clearly- almost like He's my date or running buddy and it's just the two of us. Tonight in the stillness and silence, I felt God reminding me that He has new mercies for me every morning, especially during those times when it seems yesterday's dose isn't exactly cutting it. And quite honestly, I think that's extremely beautiful- to wake up each and every morning so desperate for God's mercy, grace and love all over again, needing Him more than a heart needs a beat, and never to be able to claim that He isn't necessary or desired. And I think that's the whole point- to need God every single day and in turn find myself more in Him and less in the world.

umma.

I will be an amazing wife & mother one day all b/c of my umma ;) hehe.

A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies. Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life. She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands. She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar. She gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family and portions for her servant girls. She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks. She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night. In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers. She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet. She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple. Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land. She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes. She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:
"Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all."
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

Proverbs 31: 10-31

first love.

On my way to work, I witnessed a man literally laying on his back on a busy, filthy NYC street corner, just to get a good shot of a random building I've never noticed before and probably never will again. Everyday as I walk through Times Square or down 5th Avenue, there are thousands of tourists snapping shots of images I regularly pass by and don't pay any mind to. I remember when I first moved to the city almost 10 years ago (wow. I feel old!). Everything little detail about the city exhilarated me. I was fascinated by the bright lights, intrigued by the gorgeous socialites, and invigorated by the nightlife. The stench of the subway stations in the dead of summer or the crazy bikers and pushy pedestrians didn't bother me. Much like being in love for the first time or comparable to the butterflies you feel at the brink of each new prospect of love. According to the beholder, the object of one's affection can do no wrong, even the most annoying habits are endearing, and every statement out of his/her mouth is poetry. Time moves in slow motion when you're together, sappy love songs all of a sudden have deeper meaning, and you have a new found appreciate and outlook on life. So how does this hopeful, passionate and blissful season transform into an ugly, resentful and insipid existence for so many? After years, even decades, of being together and seeing your mate's face just one too many times, I figure it would be easy to disregard what it was initially that was so enthralling about this person. Or maybe we get too comfortable and take them for granted and allow the familiarity to breed contempt. Whatever it is, however seemingly imminent, and at the risk of sounding naive and inexperienced, I hope and pray that I never forget what enamored me to fall in love in the first place. This got me thinking about what I consider to be the first and only constant, real, and volitional love in my life. More profound and stronger than any vow we can make with our spouse is the relationship we have with our Creator. When I first experienced His love, I was captivated by the promises and parables, I was convinced that every sunset and rainbow was specifically for me, and every praise song I heard was angelic and moved me to stand in reverence and wonder. And now after years of knowing this love, I'm renewing my commitment to never forget the power of the cross that saved me or the grace that redeemed and restored me. I'm coming back to my first love and believing and asserting that it's only on this unshakable foundation that I will build all my other relationships because there really is no other way.

To true love in 2010. Cheers*

liberation.

I set my alarm for 6:20 am on Sunday morning, but woke up a few minutes before 6 am to the sound of my own sobbing and a broken record in my head playing "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Naturally, I was confused and surprised at my own apologetic stance particularly toward this specific person. It's been 3 years since our relationship came to a rude and abrupt halt, and although I had forgiven him years ago, my feelings went straight from extreme hatred and bitterness to indifference. Despite the fact that we see each other, albeit in passing, once a week, I hardly ever think twice about him or care to revisit the disaster that caused me so much pain and utter brokenness. So anyone could probably easily understand my confusion Sunday morning. After all, I was undeniably the victim who was owed the profuse apologies; he should really be the one begging me for my forgiveness. Never in my lifetime did I ever think I would feel it necessary to offer him an apology for what happened between us. But in the clarity and stillness that accompanies many mornings, however backwards or ridiculous as it seems, I was sincerely so sorry for everything. I was sorry for hating him for so long that it literally physically hurt each time I thought about him, I was sorry for judging him and inadvertently putting myself in the place of God, I was sorry for letting my pride get in the way of ever saying "hello" again, and I was sorry that I withheld the grace that could've freed and released me so much sooner. When you think about it, we've all been wronged, some more than others. But in the end we're all in the same boat, desperate for God's grace and in need of His forgiveness, mercy and kindness.

the grass is always green.

When I was growing up in Kansas, there were countless times where I felt I couldn't wait to get out of my parents' house and move far away. During my last year of college, all I could think about was graduation so I could finally have my independence, start working full-time, and never have to finish another art project or sit through excruciating 3 hour lectures on textiles. And even now, there are many things in the future I'm anxious and impatient about: marriage, kids, the weekend, my hair growing out, and especially football season. Only in retrospect do I regret not thoroughly enjoying all the different seasons in my life, although they might have seemed unbearable at the time. This past weekend, while hiking at Bear Mountain, I was reminded that it's not just all about the view from the top of the mountain. Sure, it was incredibly breathtaking and felt amazing to have climbed 1.5 miles vertically to reach our final destination. But when I reflect back on the hike, what sticks out even more is everything in between the first step on the foot of the trail and the view from the peak of the mountain: the times we wanted to give up but kept pushing forward, losing our breath only to find it again on the many rest stops along the way, pausing to take pictures of our great adventures, and of course, plenty of laughter. I'm taking this as a wake-up call & lesson to enjoy today for what it is and do the same tomorrow and the day after that. All that other stuff I claim I "can't wait" for will inevitably come in the allotted time, and when it does I'll look back and have no regrets of wasting my life away in always wishing and hoping for what's next.