The Glories of Calvary

My heart is filled with a thousand songs
Proclaiming the glories of Calvary
With every breath, Lord how I long
To sing of Jesus who died for me
Lord, take me deeper
Into the glories of Calvary

I wish that I was constantly jumping to sing of the glories of Calvary, and with every breath I longed to sing of Christ on the cross. But that is frequently not my first reaction to tough things.

Thankful for a time of communal worship and prayer tonight, and the ability to worship in joy, thankful for how God has provided and shown me my need of Him.

Coming Soon…

I once gave a tear-filled talk to a large group of high school girls about the importance of avoiding the situation I am currently in.

Intrigued?

The post is in the works, and will be up once I have prayerfully removed all of the hard feelings and profanity…

Just kidding (:

It’s good, I promise.

I’m Back…

Well hello…

My WordPress dashboard said something along the lines of “(grumbling) look who decided to come back (grumbling)…” when I logged in, but I won’t let that deter me.

I should probably say something about being so busy, how going away to college has just taken up all of my time, and that I am working so hard to stay afloat in my courses and make friends and have a life… But that, my friends, would be a grievance to you all, for it would be a lie. A fib. An incorrect statement. Because when it comes down to it, I have just been plain old lazy when it comes to things like blogging, and keeping people informed. Don’t get me wrong, my classes are going great, I have been semi-busy, and I have made a friend or two, but I really just wittle away my time doing mindless things that should be outlawed from college campus internet providers. Like Hulu. I have seen every episode of The Office, Modern Family, Raising Hope, and Glee since I came to school. Try not to get me started on Grey’s Anatomy. I have watched all of the discs we have in our apartment, all of the current season so far, all of season 1, 16 episodes of season 2… Needless to say, I got the free trial of Hulu Plus last week, and had to cancel it because I spent every waking hour watching season 2. It will have to wait until Christmas break, because I have much more important things to be doing.

Like blogging… That doesn’t sound right.

The semester is coming to a close. There are nine days of class left, then a few days of finals, before we all peace out for the Christmas season. Not that I am counting days or anything along those lines. Professors are encouraging their students to not slow down, but rather lean into the finish line like a marathon runner sprinting on that last leg. But you know what I say to that? No. It’s time for Chai teas, naps, furry socks, online shopping, and addicting shows about surgical interns, attendings, and cardio-thoracic surgeons who make residency and a doctor’s on-call hours looking absolutely delightful.

So, if you care to find me (Wicked? anyone?) you can look first in my bed, then the couch, then Facebook, then Cornerstone Coffehouse, then Starbucks, then Classic Coffee, then the lounging library chairs where no work is done. Once you have exhausted those options, you can text me. But only then. Because procrastinating and zoning out are done best without any distractions.

Love and light.
Margaret

S.O.S.

“Psh.”

I’m sending one up. Help.

I am calling out, from the chaos that is my summer job + my summer travels.

I’m letting my blog know that I still exist, and that it still resides in a small space close to my heart.

A heart that now pumps out washable tempura paint instead of blood.

Pumping through hands that are daily stained with something or other.

Hands that are constantly grabbed and held onto, or leading little kiddos to wash their own.

Hands at the ends of arms that give high fives, comfort upset little ones, and guide little heads through habitats, museums, marshes, beaches…

Arms that hold up story books as I read, and swoop up kids during games like Zipper Tag, Predator Prey, and One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. Oh yes, it’s a game. And it’s awesome.

After inevitable tears, stained clothing, occasional potty accidents, stolen snacks, painted faces, numerous head counts, walks in the marsh, animal encounters, games, art projects, experiments, stories, and numerous meltdowns, and then prepping for the next day, that day of camp has ended. Arriving at 8, and leaving at 5, I make the drive home, and collapse on the couch for the rest of the evening. Sometimes, I am daring enough to do something with my evening (like see Eclipse, come on, I had to), but most evenings I am wiped.

So, blog, that is where I have been. And where I will be. It is session 4 of camp right now, and there are 10 sessions. I am thinking they will fly by (: maybe?

Side note, my job has got me to really enjoy talking over the radios we each carry around. And occasionally, we will make our own “psh” sounds before we speak and after, just to really sound official. And 12 years old.

I have numerous topics to blog about. Hopefully, coming soon will beposts on…

- Resolved 2010
- Children with Autism
- Worship
- a few more things that I can’t think of titles for…

Over and out.

“Psh.”

My Tree

Just a little tidbit of conversation for you.

Me: Mom, remember spring break last year?

Mom: Yes, I’m not that old.

Me: Remember how I walked into that fire hydrant in South Beach?

Mom: Yes, and we were surrounded by shaded men?

Me: I think the term is shady, and yes.

Mom: The fire hydrant left that scar on your leg.

Me: No it didn’t. That was a concrete precipice.

Mom: A precipitate?

Me: Negative.

Mom: You got that scar from falling on concrete?

Me: No, diving onto it in the Rogue River. In Oregon. Last summer.

Mom: There was a concrete bottom to the river?

Me: No. It was a broken piece from this landing thing.

Mom: I don’t think I heard this before.

Me: You don’t remember me telling you how I ruined my flawless legs, but you remember the shaded figures?

Mom: They were never flawless. And it’s “shady”.

Please, Lord, tell me this apple has fallen far far from the tree.

A Plan!

So I have this plan…

I have to be at the airport at 5:30 AM for a 7:30 flight to JFK to spend an hour there or so, then a flight to Dublin. And when I get to Dublin, it will be early morning. SO I am going to stay up all night, and take something to pass out on each flight so that it will be like I had my night of sleep when I get there.

I love making plans like this, BUT they usually fail. Epicly.

(: but maybe this one will work!

Probably not.

The Name

Maybe it’s this seemingly ridiculous course I am taking called Native American Way of Life, where we listen to our older professor claim to be a sorceror and debate life ideas, but I am finding myself really sensitive to people throwing around God’s name. Everyone speaks of hypothetical gods, and I know not whether they capitalize the name in their mind (it’s hard to sense emphasize and capitalization out of the mouths of college students, including my own) but I can’t bring myself to utter a word in this class. And trust me, this is not the norm!

This is my fourth semester at the community college up the street from my house, and for all of the previous three semesters I have been quite good at not getting attached to this campus or the people on it. I don’t see myself as a typical CSM student who will be here for five years before deciding what they want to do, and because of that I have kept quite to myself up here. I have my computer, my cell phone, and my car to take me away from here; if I’m not in class, I don’t spend time at school. My experience here is the exact reciprocal of my experience in high school, where comfortable and welcoming amenities encouraged us to come to school early and hang around school all evening if we wanted to. I have learned to see college as a rather cold place compared to the beautiful private high school campus I hung out on. There have been ups and downs to this mindset.

An up, or at least what I thought was an up, is that the last three semesters I have really not cared what people think of me. In high school I was quite concerned that the friends I had before Jesus, would be so freaked out by me going into detail as to how I had been washed by the blood over that summer between sophomore and junior year. But here, it has been easy for me to tell people what I believe, and why I believe it. Trying to live like Jesus has gotten me asked a lot of questions, and I have loved it. The opportunities to put Him on display have literally walked right up to me.

But for some stupid reason, I cannot talk in this class. Look at me, I sit here blogging instead. Pathetic. As my couple of years at community college are coming to a close (Lord willing), for some reason I care too much than to cause a stirring in this classroom.

Lord, give me the words, the strength, an opportunity…

He is God. There’s only one.

(I think I’ll put this little tidbit at the end, but it’s really happening in the middle. How ironic, our professor just asked us who is a Christian in this room, and then went off on the idea that Christianity teaches that we are rooted in sin, and we were born into it. He claims his body is perfect, that he did not fall from paradise. Oh dear. And now, “you are perfect, guys. It is up to you to keep up that perfection.” What an easy doctrine to believe in.)

W-w-wor-thip

(Lisp.)

(Stammer.)
Just a melody on my mind since church this morning. I often fail to see my tongue as poor, lisping, and stammering.

But it is.

It really is.

There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel’s veins
and sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.
Lose all their guilty stains, lose all their guilty stains;
and sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.

The dying thief rejoiced to see that fountain in his day;
and there may I, though vile as he, wash all my sins away.
Wash all my sins away, wash all my sins away;
and there may I, though vile as he, wash all my sins away.

E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream thy flowing wounds supply,
redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.
And shall be till I die, and shall be till I die;
redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.

Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing thy power to save,
when this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.
Lies silent in the grave, lies silent in the grave;
when this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.

A Pact

Good guess, you’re right! I should be studying! For a Nutrition midterm, tonight. But I’m here (:

I have a question for the blogging world. How honest is too honest in a post? Can I say what makes me uncomfortable, and what has been going on in my life? I am pretty sure that most who read this blog, are those who are close friends of mine; whether they’re subscribed, have me on their Google Reader, or just secretly read (yeah, you’re busted). Since I began over a year ago, I think 16 months to be exact, the views have gone through the roof compared to what they were. I remember when I read Kim’s blog, and Kim read my blog… And yeah, that was about it haha. And there wasn’t really very much going on in my life back then, besides some boy drama. But as the year has gone by, much has changed. Thankfully, much of my friend group has stayed the same. That has been a huge blessing, that even though we don’t attend the same church anymore, or see each other every Tuesday night, I still can hang out with people like Kim, Laura, Ashley, Angela, Ellen, Christina, Kelly… And others of course! Those are just who came to mind at this moment in time. But sadly, the dynamic with other people has really lost its shape.

I wouldn’t go so far as to call these relationships conditional, but I would say that as small details changed, these relationships began to crumble. And now I can’t help but wonder, if things like blogs, Twitter, and Facebook are used to convey how we really feel so we can be cordial and even friendly to each other’s faces.

It’s saddening, because to me, whatever I would put in a blog post, I would be willing to sit down and tell you over coffee. But here’s the kicker: what I would put in a post, is not about you! But for others, what’s done on the internet (petty, I know) is coming across as how they really feel, while what’s done in person is just a front. Maybe I am over analyzing what is put on Twitter, and that I am taking things like removing from a Blogroll, or unfollowing, as that person saying “I don’t want to be your friend anymore”, but I can’t help but be hurt by it.

What goes on my blog, is said so that those who read will know exactly what I am going through. Like my struggle in searching for a church; how personal. I know how vulnerable I was making myself by putting out there what has gone wrong in my search for a church, and what has gone right. But to think that those who I would consider so close to me would twist my words into me bashing on their church? I did not expect that. I often wish that I could have just gone with everyone else when they left FBC; but it’s not where God would have me. And I tried. But it came down to this:

No matter how much I may love (absolutely LOVE) being around a group of people, and fellowshipping and worshiping with them, it may not be where God would have me every Sunday right now. In the future? Who knows! I am excited for that. But where I want to be, and where I have to be, are not always the same place.

So can we make a pact, blog friends? And lurks? That no matter what church we attend, no matter what denomination we may consider ourselves under, and no matter where we go, we would love each other. Can we accept that if we all love Christ, then we are called to do nothing less than love each other.

And let’s just be real.

I’m going to work on this. Join me?

T-Minus 9 Days

I don’t think I can express the sheer excitement in my house these days. First of all, everyone is home. The older brothers are home to clean out the apartment downstairs that they used to inhabit. And because they are home, everyone is kind of just hanging around the house. The aunts and uncles and cousins have been stopping by, the weather is beautiful, my mom is working on her tan. And, we’re all headed to Ireland. ALL of us. All 12 of us from the States are going back to Ireland next week for the first wedding of a cousin on my dad’s side. Some are leaving this Friday, others on Monday, and the rest of that following Wednesday and Friday. And my two older brothers aren’t coming til next next Wednesday. BUT we are all going, and the last time that all of us were in Ireland at the same time was when I was like ten. SO it’s kind of a topic of excitement. Not even my midterms can weigh me down! And trust me, they should.

The best part is how excited my parents get, especially mom. They’re getting to go home. They love it (:

Also, I need shoes. Preferably yellow pumps.  It is becoming sort of an issue…