writing...

Yep, no cute pictures of snowfalls or sunsets this time. Just some words on writing. It's on my mind because I am about to be a published author! Unbelievable...it's been one of my dreams for a long time, but one that I thought wouldn't ever happen. (you know, like the childhood aspirations of being a moviestar or a rock singer)

But in the Winter 2006 edition of the Journal of Biblical Counseling, there is an article by Heather Davis. When I viewed the table of contents on their website, it seemed surreal! (you can see it, too: go to www.ccef.org and look at the publications/journal tab...you can order a subscription, too, if you want) This is the journal published by the counseling center where I'm going to school.

I've gone through the stage of giddy excitement/disbelief...and now I need to gear myself up to submit a few more articles. Any ideas on topics you would like to read about in a counseling journal? I was thinking about writing one on "break-ups" (b/c I've had experience in this area and I don't think there is much published about how to deal with the real, deep pain associated with a break-up). I'd love to hear your suggestions! I'm hoping it will help motivate me to sit down and actually write again--instead of merely being satisfied with my goal being achieved for the first time.

winter glory

I took this picture an hour ago of a corner on my street. Normally, I wouldn't bring my camera on a walk through the neighborhood. And on a cold February day, I probably wouldn't take a walk through the neighborhood at all! I'm a wimp when it comes to the cold--and I much prefer exercise in the gym over braving the elements from about November through March.

As a South Carolina girl deep inside, I still get giddy about a good snow. (which this 12"+ Nor'easter certainly qualifies as!) I remember the sheer delight of awaking on one morning in South Carolina to a landscape blanketed in snow: my first "big snow" which didn't come until I was 8 years old...and the last "big snow" until I went to college in Chicago. That's probably why snow has maintained its magical quality. It wasn't until moving to Philadelphia last year that I discovered what a hassle snow can be because almost everything continues as normal...and so you have to bundle up, head outside, and shovel within a few hours of waking. All "magic" quickly fades away into back-breaking labor that is guaranteed to leave you sore the next morning and partially frost-bitten.

If you're caught in this (as I tend to be now that I'm acclimated to Philly), I invite you to stop and try to take a second look at this landscape outside your window. It is a picture of redemption.

What is the beauty of a winter landscape without snow? Non-existent...at least in my book! The browns, grays, and blacks just don't call out to me, "GLORY!" (in fact, I more often hear them say--"stay inside & sleep--hibernate till spring") It's nothing to look at, revel in, call attention to.

But then snow begins to fall. Flake by flake covering over the monochromatic wintry world. Clothing it in beauty...mysteriously, dare I say MAGICALLY transforming it into "beautiful." Was it beautiful before? Not really...or perhaps its beauty was hidden. Hidden until the snow came to cover up its ugliness and make it beautiful. Something that people write poems about, draw pictures of, even dare to delight in through sledding or snow-angels or a walk in an otherwise ordinary neighborhood.

I suggest an analogy. We are like that bare landscape until Love finds us. It exposes our glory that was otherwise hidden. Redeeming us by offering His own beauty for our barrenness.

sometimes you gotta dance...

I love this picture because of what it represents of my friendship with my college roommate. To this day, there is hardly anyone who can make me laugh as hard as she can. And we have also been through some hard, difficult experiences. We have had serious discussions about why the world is as it is and how we can try to make a difference in the wrongs we see.

This inevitably drives us to our knees in prayer to the Living God. As much as we grieve the world's wrongs, He grieves even more so. As much as we wrestle with how to approach these, He--the all-powerful and all-loving One--must do so even more. How to right wrongs that are often due to our collective stupidity as a human race? Where we snub those different from us, alienate the ones we should seek reconciliation with, and even close our eyes to the tragedies that cross our TV screens (and cubicles) daily. I find hope in talking to the One who can see it all at once--and who grieves it infinitely deeper than I do.

His grief is both productive and costly. Productive because it takes the power out from underneath all of these grievous wrongs we observe in society. [our personal and collective stupidity, aka sin] Costly because the price was the one he loved above all others: his son's life. But in that blood, there is a mysterious redemption. Understood best by those who believe it. Whose lives have been changed by it.

Who turns grief into joy...mourning into dancing. So that even amidst the pain and turmoil of the world--felt personally and as we open our eyes to the people around us--we can dance! It feels like a miracle.

I think it is.