tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76845872262808548652024-03-14T18:00:41.616+08:00i write to believe."Our truest response to the irrationality of the world is to paint or sing or write, for only in such response do we find truth." - Madeleine L'Englekatherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.comBlogger317125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-42000363126280286402014-12-20T06:58:00.000+08:002014-12-20T07:29:09.564+08:00Believing to See<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I look at the second to the last post I've written and saw that it's been exactly a year. How uncanny is that? </div>
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I've scattered my thoughts in many different places but still one place beckons me to stay still. To write to believe. It seems like an anthem that I'm hearing. A sheep's horn begging me to come out from hiding. </div>
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And I am. </div>
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The year has been difficult. There were relationships I had to let go of and relationships that I've chosen to keep. There were duties that I had to stick out for and woundedness that I had to face. It's been a sifting kind of year and it wasn't easy. I am amazed that I am still here alive and grateful for unexpected places of grace. </div>
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I've chosen to simplify many things. Like the way I write and the way I live. I realized how difficult it is to keep having to shape-shift around many people. They won't always be like me and I will not always receive what I need from everybody even if I put 100% of me into every single one of them. </div>
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But no matter how the sands shift with the tide, God stands firm. He seems to have proven that to me this year over and over. The peeling of my masks and all that has been falsely giving me satisfaction has been stripped off one by one and I am left with almost nothing but flesh that is raw, real and sore. </div>
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I'm here this morning breathing in the silence and just paying attention to a few things. The gray orange hue of the sun. The lady cleaning the garden outside the house across the street. My breath filling my hungry lungs. The highlighted words of Ann Voskamp's devotional, The Greatest Gift. One that I ended the year with last year and coincidentally the same words motivate me to peacefully bring this year into surrender. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Miracles begin understated. They begin, and the earth doesn't shake and trumpets don't sound. Miracles begin with the plainsong of a promise--and sometimes not even fully believed. This is always the best place for miracles: God meets us right where we don't believe. When our believing runs out, God's loving runs on. </span><span style="font-size: large; text-align: left;">This is the season of the Advent God. The barren will birth. Dreams will wake into reality. Nothing is impossible for God.</span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">There is this. Never doubt that there are two kinds of doubt: one that fully lives into the questions and one that uses the questions as weapons against fully living. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Breathe easy into the questions. The name of God, YHWH--inhale, exhale--is the sound of your breathing. There is your miraculous answer. As long as you are breathing, He is always your miraculous answer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">And HE will prepare your heart for the coming of the Lord. Now miracles stack, multiply. You don't have to work for the coming of the Lord--you don't have to work for Christmas. The miracle is always that God is gracious. You don't have to earn Christmas, you don't have to perform Christmas, you don't have to make Christmas. You can rest in Christ. You can wait with Christ. You can breathe easy in Christ. Open your heart to the miracle of grace. He will prepare your heart for the coming of the Lord. </span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Your name has been drawn. Come to Him just as you are. Give up trying to be self-made: this is your gift to Him--and His gift to you. Simply come. The miracle of Christmas is that you get more than proof of God's existence. You get the experience of God's presence. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">You always get your Christmas miracle. You get God with you. </span></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-52367829195780316612014-04-26T13:14:00.000+08:002014-04-26T13:14:06.998+08:00Sacred Days <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I wrote this a week ago on a different space. I've totally forgotten about this page and right now I'm asking God what He really wants me to do with it. So many things have happened the past few months and I've been recovering from a lot of things. From immense burn out. From relationship fall outs. From losing fragments of myself in this transitory period of my life. <br />
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But during Holy Week I found myself coming into wholeness again. Able to listen to myself and hear God a little bit more closely. <br />
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This is what I went through during 4 days of silence.<br />
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I've never experienced a silent retreat before until this year. I decided to go because I felt that for the longest time I lived such a noisy life. This noise comes in many forms. Exterior noise and interior noise. When the noise becomes overbearing it becomes hard to hear yourself or God. So this year I made a decision to go on a silent retreat that spanned the entire Holy Week.
I had many thoughts and fears going into it. What would I discover? What would I feel? Am I "finally" being called into convent-hood? *tense pause*<br />
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Contrary to many who think silent retreats are only for those discerning the religious life, I've realized that silent retreats are necessary especially in today's fast pace rhythm of existence. A book I chanced upon in the retreat house entitled "The Shattered Lantern" gave me so many insights on why today's life is so absent of satisfaction even with the variety of opportunities and the wealth of information. Allow me to share some meaningful paragraphs I picked up from the old worn copy of Fr. Ronald Rolheiser's book.<br />
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<i>"Today nothing seems enough for us. The simple and primal joys of living, those that Merton describes, are mostly lost as we grow ever more restless, driven, compulsive, and hyper. Within our lives there is less ease, more fever; less peacefulness and more obsessive activity, less enjoyment and more excess. These are the telltale signs of unbridled restlessness.<br /> <br />Being filled yet unfulfilled comes from being without deep interiority. When there is never time or space to stand behind our own lives and look reflectively at them, then the pressures and distractions of life simply consume us to point where we lose control over our lives. Furthermore this lack of interiority is largely the product of undisciplined restlessness. When we are unreflective, invariably it is because our restlessness lacks a proper asceticism and simply propels us into a flurry of activity which keeps us preoccupied and consumed with the surface of life with the business of making a living, with doing things with distractions, and with entertainment. It is the that our actions no longer issue from a center within us, but instead are products of compulsion. We do things and we no longer know why. We feel chronically pressured, victimized and hyper-driven. We overwork but are bored; socialize excessively but are lonely: and work to the point of exhaustion but feel our lives are a waste."</i></blockquote>
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No, God didn't call me to convent-hood. No, I don't have a list of plans laid out for the next 5 years. <br />
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But He did invite me to do this: He invited me to live from the center of my heart because He resides in there. He invited me to let Him lead and move to His rhythm. He invited me to rest in His truth and involve Him in my every day. He invited me to live from a deeper trust that He who knows me inside out knows exactly what I need and what I long for. <br />
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It sounds vague to those who probably have never experienced a 4-day silence. But the silence forces us to face the reality of ourselves unmasked. The deepest questions surfaces and there is nothing and nobody who can answer except the One who put you there. And when you become patient enough to sit with the silence and be still enough to linger in His words, you begin to allow Him to reveal Himself to you in a way that only you can understand. And in a way that only He can assure you of. <br />
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Silence (and prayer, which was recommended for 4 hours a day) became the way in which my senses have been opened to see the sacred in the secular. It has reminded me again that there is more to life than what we see and feel from the surface of our thoughts. Silence allowed me to unclench my fists and let God lead the way into rediscovering what He wanted me to receive. <br />
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A restoration of an identity unto Himself. <br />
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There is an attractiveness that emanates from people who live with such an interior freedom. The people I met in this retreat were seekers just as I and I saw that it is possible to have this freedom as long as you create a tabernacle within for silence and meet God there.<br />
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-75585071337436827592013-12-20T09:11:00.001+08:002013-12-20T09:11:45.657+08:00Birthed Within<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The world continues to press on even through this supposed restful time. I am still caught up in between conversations, debacles, debates. Swimming in perceptions between people, leaders, friends. </div>
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<b>And I am dead tired. </b></div>
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The year of restoration, a promise, I remain holding on to because it is God's word for me at the beginning of this one. Even in the middle of this exhaustion of still making hearts meet, bridging gaps and mending broken ties. I hold on to it. The year is not yet over and the promise has already been spoken. It is on now a matter of time and the patience within my waiting. That I shall be receiving soon, a moment of utmost peace and rest. </div>
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I am hanging on to the promise of Advent.</div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Greatest-Gift-Unwrapping-Story-Christmas-ebook/dp/B00CH7KWWK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1387501519&sr=8-1&keywords=the+greatest+gift" target="_blank">The Greatest Gift</a> has been such a great companion for me this season and this morning's read has got me grounded on the story of Zechariah and Elizabeth. How the priest and his wife have been forgotten and barren yet their names are pregnant with their promise. Zechariah means "God who remembers" and Elizabeth means "God is an oath or God is abundance". How beautiful to read these reflections this morning. I am refreshed. </div>
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This is always the best place for miracles: God meets us right where we don't believe. When our believing runs out, God's loving runs on. This is the season of the Advent of God. The barren will birth. Dreams will wake into reality. Nothing is impossible with God. </blockquote>
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You don't have to work for the coming of the Lord--you don't have to work for Christmas. The miracle is always that God is gracious. You don't have to earn Christmas, you don't have to perform Christmas, you don't have to make Christmas. You can rest in Christ. You can wait with Christ. Open your heart to the miracle of grace. He will prepare your heart for the coming of the Lord.<span style="text-align: left;"> </span></blockquote>
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This Advent for me has been quite a stretch and I can feel it in my mind, my heart and my spirit. A stretch in believing. A stretch in hoping. A stretch in waiting. But I am realizing that this is why this season needs to stretch. <br />
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The stretch is making space. The stretch is giving way. The stretch is opening that part of our hearts where God--Emmanuel--can be birthed within. </div>
katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-84575000342060084322013-12-19T07:44:00.003+08:002013-12-19T08:53:35.816+08:00Heart Beating Inside His<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I am silent and my heart acknowledges the vulnerable rhythm of its beating. Only a few more days till Christmas and I let myself soak it all in. This journey into truly understanding what the season means. I've been following devotional after devotional and as much as I want to write about everything I read or listen to or see, I do not have a lot of time. Today I'm given the grace of time, and words because I am just moved by the story of 2 mothers listening to the beating heart of a daughter gone. </div>
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I read the story from Ann Voskamp's post today on <a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/2013/12/what-to-do-with-a-hurting-heart-this-christmas/" target="_blank">"What to Do With a Hurting Heart This Christmas"</a>. The title of the post just captured me because it's what I have been thinking about for many days. How do people who are experiencing situations of aching celebrate Christmas? </div>
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She illustrates this by sharing the story of 2 mothers and a daughter's heart. And I watch and let my own heart be moved.</div>
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Ann writes, <b>"When God hears your heart, that’s what He hears — the still-beating heart of His Son. The Tree is where God’s grace does heart transplants: God takes broken hearts —- and gives you His."</b><br />
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I want to listen to my own heart with a stethoscope and see what I will hear. I wonder what the beats will sound like. I wonder if tears will well up my eyes too knowing that the core of my heart is Christ's? <br />
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So many things are to be ached for this Christmas. Life can use a bit more certainty. A bit more company. A bit more joy. A bit more abundance. A bit more peace. A bit more love. A bit more faith. A bit more authenticity. A bit more.<br />
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And when our hearts ache don't you always feel like it's breaking? Don't you always feel like it won't last the day? Don't you always wonder where you're gonna get the next rush of strength just to keep it pumping so you can love? And Live?<br />
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I quiet down this morning and think of my heart and how the very of core of Christ has been planted in there peacefully like His presence in the tabernacle. <br />
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My heart will beat not because of me, but because of Him. And I'll be able to get up again and again and love again and again. And live again and again. Because of Him. </div>
katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-13173650703223960842013-12-14T19:42:00.002+08:002013-12-18T11:59:29.910+08:00Before Emmanuel <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I watched The Nativity today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wanted to understand a bit more about the season we celebrate as Christmas. I feel that over the years it’s been overrated and it’s lost it’s real meaning because of all the festivities we prepare without completely knowing how the first Christmas was two thousand years ago.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I was younger I’d always know the story of Jesus began with the angel appearing to Mary and announcing the virgin birth. I know that the angel appeared to Joseph in a dream so that he can take Mary as his wife. I know that Jesus was born in a manger. I know how Mary and Joseph weren’t given a place at any inn in Bethlehem. But those simple facts missed may have missed out on what could have really happened.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">I realized without understanding the real story, what I know of Christmas may even just be a one dimensional caricature of how the events truly unfolded.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">And yes, it’s indeed been like that.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I realized watching the movie that it must have been hard for Mary as a young girl to immediately believe what the angel Gabriel told her. There was a bit fear and worry on how people may take it. How she could be judged by her family and her neighbors. But she continued faithfully and said “Be it done unto me according to Your word.” Joseph having betrothed himself to Mary now would have been the biggest fool. She was to bear a son that was not his yet he had the courage to take the ridicule of the town and believed the angel’s words to him in his dream.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This was a big scandal in their society during those days. People around them looked at them with condemnation. Their relationship could have been the biggest taboo and I can only wonder what kind of emotions and insecurities Mary and Joseph felt being set apart like that. Yet they clung to the message’s promise. Through them a Savior will be born. This was the Messiah they have long waited for. A Messiah prophesied to redeem their lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Joseph had to go to Bethlehem to fulfill the requirement of King Herod where they needed to go back to their hometown for a widespread census. He was unaware that this was Herod’s plan to find the Messiah who was prophesied to be from the house of David. So he went and Mary already carrying the child faithfully agreed to go and journey more than a 100 miles on nothing but a donkey to be with her husband. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">How uncomfortable the journey must have been with the extreme desert heat during the day and the biting cold during the night? How much food did they have to ration to sustain their hunger for the entire journey? How tiring could it have been for them to travel for days and not have a place to rest since every innkeeper closed their doors rejecting their plea? How excruciating could the labor be for Mary as she waited on the donkey until Joseph could find them a place to give birth? How worried and anxious Joseph could have been as he helplessly knocked on every door that just closed shut?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Christmas didn’t start with tinsel and mistletoe. </b>There weren’t glittering lights that lined up the road to Bethlehem. Christmas seemed to have began as a man-hunt to slay the child-king because the worldly king refused to let go of his throne and wanted to keep his ambition of power longer than he should. Christmas seemed to have began as an apprehensive journey of a couple who was trying to figure out their relationship as man and wife and how they could begin to love one another after their scandalous beginning. Christmas seemed to have began as struggle with public condemnation and rejection for the two people who were chosen to be the earthly family of the Savior.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Much of what I know about Christmas only dwells on the joyful birth of Jesus. The silent glory that came upon a midnight clear when the shepherds of a nearby flock walked to the manger and the three kings who traveled for 105 days finally found the Messiah they have been waiting for. But I have not completely thought about what happened before Jesus’ birth and the kind of struggle that happened before He came.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Perhaps this is what has been missing in how I think about Christmas. Perhaps this is what has made the festivities feel quite overrated. Nobody really recalls now what it took for Jesus to arrive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This makes me reflect on the moments I ask for Jesus to come into my life and make His presence felt or make His work come alive. I can be impatient in the waiting or I can suffer immense doubts and anxiety when people around me wonder what I am waiting on the Lord for. I can respond with frustration at their lack of understanding and withdraw into a caved existence so I can shield myself from further scrutiny or ridicule.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But watching this film has made me realize that whenever we want Jesus’ presence there is always that earthly struggle that comes with it. <b>There is always that choice that needs to be made to believe in Him more than what the experiences of rejection and doubt can bring. There is always that waiting and holding on and the aching as if you’re experiencing birth pangs.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And they held on. Mary and Joseph. In the dark of the manger. They held on. Until in the middle of all labor a bright star gazed back at them and pierced their own darkness which gave them the hope to push on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And this is Christmas. Where God’s presence is unveiled from the heavenlies and is wrapped in human flesh. And so to receive Him is to unwrap the frailties of our humanity and receive His.</span></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-9938946062639676192013-12-13T20:32:00.003+08:002013-12-13T20:32:49.331+08:00Wrapped<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s grace when you meet with a person who hurt you and instead of groveling about it you choose to give of yourself. It’s grace when you haven’t spoken to someone for so very long and the courage opens up the door for a short but meaningful conversation. It’s grace when you share what you have to those who have not. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Grace came for me this week and gave me the opportunity to love in situations where it was difficult to love. Jesus revealing Himself as Grace moving my heart because He moves mine. Living becomes my response to His life in me. Here I am learning to live again this advent. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I take days slowly at a time. This week I’ve been unable to really do any writing because I have been mesmerized by the unfolding of a new hobby. Crocheting has taken my time and I’ve fallen in love making little flowers that I plan to stitch together and make a scarf. I’m lulled by the rhythmic looping of thread and yarn that almost allows me to fall into a chant praying one thing really. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">That you may restore and mend broken ties God. That you may restore and mend broken ties God. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This week I’ve been holding on to Romans 5:8-9. It’s breathed in me a new life. It’s illumined the dark places where I’ve felt robbed off life and love. And slowly I’m beginning to realize how God can make things new. Perhaps the circumstances do not change. But what He is making new begins in my heart. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It moves slow. I am not able to receive His love in an instant. There is a wrestling from within where the doubts and painful memories struggle at the door and who should first enter in. But I cling to His words because He promised to be faithful. I cling to His heart because He has spilt His love. I cling to His mercy because He has already paid for my salvation. And this morning in the quiet of dusk, He fills me again with a presence so quiet but endearing that when I lift my hands to praise Him tears roll down my face. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wanted to ask Him questions but His love silenced me. I wanted to know what was going to happen next and what other things I need to do so secure for me a plan that I can be confident in. But He just kept on holding me and asking me to gaze at Him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There is only one thing I want you to be sure of right now. And that is My love. When you are able to receive this completely you will be able to live your life more secure. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I sat there in the quiet and let myself be still to His words. Wrapped in an embrace of wings.</span></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-63397452160885463012013-12-07T07:04:00.003+08:002013-12-07T07:19:04.409+08:00Speaking Words and Breathing Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Your truth pursued me yesterday and Your grace gave me the strength to hold on. Despite the noises that threatened to steal the slow peace I’m finding in You. Noises that taunted my aloneness and alienation. I stay in this place where Your arms have encircled around me and keeping my eyes stayed on You. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">You found me through the book of Romans. The fourth and fifth chapters were words I read out loud to myself and how their sound just moved and tugged at my heart. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">God proves His love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us. How much more then, since we are now justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath. (Rom 5:8-9)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">These words of St. Paul broke through the dismal fog that clouded my mind and kept it cluttered for days. I said it to myself again and again. <strong style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> God proves His love. God proves His love.</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">What kind of God proves His love to His creation? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I realized, this is how much He wanted to pursue me. This is how deep His passion goes. And turning it over in my mind again and again opened up the spaces where doubt and fear was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">How <strong style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">much more</strong> more then, since we are now justified by His blood, will we be saved from the wrath. <strong style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">How much more then!</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Lord in His great love has wanted to pursue us ever since sin has caused the great divide. His pursuit is not just of a Savior who fights the battle and frees the captive. That’s a pursuit of duty. But His pursuit goes beyond duty and awakens the very core of His heart to choose and pursue us like a Lover who can be rejected and turned down and yet keep pursuing us anyway. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">He knows that because we have free will, we won’t always choose Him. And yet even then, <strong style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">HE chose US</strong>. He chose to pay the price to keep us away from what could break our hopes and our lives forever. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This is what saves us. This is what gives us security. This is what frees us from whatever has enslaved us. This is what lifts our eyes to the heavens where our true help comes from. This radical and scandalous pursuit of Christ whose love has come down to hold us and give us all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I pondered on these things yesterday and stood against what battled with my peace. I read the words out loud again to myself. Now justified by His blood. I am now justified by His blood. </span></div>
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<strong style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Justified a word that means: </span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Having, done for, or marked by a good or legitimate reason. In theology means, declared or made righteous in the sight of God.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Because of Christ’s cross, I am now marked by good and made righteous in the sight of God.<strong style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">How much more now</strong> can Jesus save me from anxiety. <strong style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">How much more now</strong> can Jesus save me from rejection. <strong style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">How much more now</strong> can Jesus save me from abandonment. <strong style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">How much more now</strong> can Jesus save me from loneliness. <strong style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">How much more now!</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was hungry to receive more of Him and read all the way to middle of the book. I read out loud silently, carefully and deliberately. I found how the words can hold so much power if I take the time to just slow down and not read it like a novel. I realized that reading it reflectively and hearing the words come out of my own mouth is what allows Jesus’ life to incarnate into mine. It’s what makes it take root. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Perhaps everytime I say a word, speaking it forth allows it to be carried by my breath that exhales from deep within me. Perhaps when my breath carries these precious words, God’s breath is stirred and moved to embrace mine. </span></div>
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<strong style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For His words called me out into existence and it is His Breath that gave me life. He is the Breath that gave me life. </span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Reading Scripture this way then becomes a necessity. For don’t I always need to breathe? </span></div>
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</div>katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-44897959413218941822013-12-05T09:41:00.001+08:002013-12-05T09:41:13.866+08:00From the Stump<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm soaking in the words that have been written by women of faith today. Devotional after devotional. Blog post after blog post. I am hungry to resonate with those who have found Him. I am longing to come to know those who have lived through their own lives unraveling with fullness in Him. And I find myself in this place where I'm called to enter a slow silence.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Where do I want to be right now? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I want to be in a place filled with His peace and His love. I want to be in a place where I too can say that I've known Him and I continue to get to know Him. I am still in the "getting there" and the "figuring it out again" but this time I want to be more conscious of my choice. More deliberate because now I know the source of my own discontentment. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I ponder upon Ann's words again in her Hope video. How she focuses on Jesse's stump and how this stump are those moments in our lives that have been cut off, given up on, nearly impossible to see growth in, lifeless. Sometimes I feel like I am the stump. These days I feel like I've reached a stump in my life. Paralyzed. Unsure. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But Isaiah speaks of a tiny shoot that sprouts from the stump of Jesse. I'm captivated by this imagery. How life can sprout again from what was once thought as dead. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There are many things in my life that I feel has been deadened by the circumstances I've experienced. My dreams. My growth. My relationships. My ministry. And I've asked why so many times without really pausing to understand the reason for this lifelessness and fruitlessness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Am I clinging to the roots of the tree? Am I part of this tree? Where am I drawing my life from? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Slowly Father you gently pull me near to Your heart and remind me that You are are the only life that can restore mine. You are the only love that can make me whole. You are the only fount that can bring me back to fruitfulness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Another whisper of words from the gospel of John, <i>"But unless a grain of wheat falls down to the ground and dies..."</i> Only when the grain of wheat falls to the ground can it bear fruit. Only if I let myself fall. Only if I loosen my grip on my own life and hand it over to the Life Giver can I bear fruit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Only then. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Only then becomes a choice. It is a choice I must deliberately make. It is a choice I must be aware of. And the only time I can truly make choices such as this is when I slow down and focus on the value that arises from the weight of truth within these words. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I pray for a real slowing down this Advent season. I pray for a real birthing of new life. I pray for a revealing of truth that Emmanuel--God is with us--is really indeed here. </span></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-6556212505606225192013-12-04T08:42:00.002+08:002013-12-04T08:42:23.094+08:00Made for Eternity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've been looking through <a data-mce-href="http://youaremygirls.com/2011/05/17/1546/" href="http://youaremygirls.com/2011/05/17/1546/" style="color: #1b8be0; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Jennifer's blog archives</a> because her voice is a voice that I resonate with a lot these past few weeks and I'm learning about her journey and how God has found her. I'm learning about how God restored her to Himself. I'm learning about the peaceful rhythm she has found as she walked intimately with her Beloved. A walk so inspiring and captivating. A walk that reminds me of my own walk many years ago.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But believing that one thing is everything, that the pursuit of these desires is the act of pursuing You makes an idol out of our desires. Our pursuit of what we think we want becomes more important to us than You. <a data-mce-href="http://youaremygirls.com/2011/05/17/1546/" href="http://youaremygirls.com/2011/05/17/1546/" style="color: #1b8be0; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">(May 17, 2011)</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s true. I have turned most of my desires into my idols. Even the desire to be a reliable youth minister, a creative writer, a dear friend or finding true love. Even the desire to be financially successful, professionally admirable and competently consistent. I realized how subliminally my desires have replaced the desire to make God the most important pursuit of my life. It is easy to lose my grip on the most valuable treasure I have. The world is so attractive. The world is so alluring. Those that do not follow the ways of the world end up becoming wallflowers, outcasts, hermits, friendless and forgotten. I teeter between these two worlds—the secular and the divine—every single minute. <strong>The choice to center on God becomes such a struggle when I focus on what I’ll be missing out on if I choose Him. It’s so easy to feel that choosing God becomes the lesser choice when I’m filled “with the world” and all it’s longings. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But God is merciful enough to show me again that the reason for much of my frustration and struggle is because <strong>my desire to find belongingness in this world cannot deeply be satisfied by this world unless I find belongingness in Him. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">What we idolize in the world, though initially becomes such an aspiring pursuit, always frustrates our longing for lasting fulfillment, love and joy because these idols are not made from an eternal mold. It’s satisfaction cannot sustain our longings for the long haul.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m encouraged by the words of St. Paul in his letter to the Corinthians:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Cor 4:18)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">His words have somehow always explained to me that the reason why I am easily discontented is because pursuing things of this world, the things that are seen, only have temporary value. My longings are too deep and wide to fulfill only in a temporary way.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We all want things to last forever. The laughter among friends. The summer nights at the soccer field. The high from a worship gathering. The belongingness in a cozy night cap. These good times experienced in the world ignite in us a longing for what is lasting and we are saddened when it doesn’t. But I suppose this is what points us to the truth. <strong>These longings triggered by these good times are there because we are meant to experience all these things in a lasting way. </strong></span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: inherit;">But what can make it last is not our own attempts to increase the frequency of good times spent but rather deepen and sustain our habits that lead us to pursuing what is unseen—God—for only He can make things last forever. He is the eternal one. </span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Any experience that doesn’t have God in them will always be fleeting and will always bring us to a certain melancholy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This morning I long for the truth of eternity to rest in my heart. That I am made for eternal things. That my life has been paid for because He wants to place His heart in me.</span></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-37541261469222756262013-11-15T20:27:00.001+08:002013-11-15T20:27:58.075+08:00The Call To Live Awake (Day 7)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">i find the silence louder<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />than any attempt to still<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />the night pregnant with prayers<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />the sky roaring with tears<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />and heaven longing for earth’s saints</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">what prayers have we buried<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />in the soil of our memories?<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />what promises have we not kept<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />letting faith vanish behind the mountain?<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />what candle can we light<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />to let even shadows find home in the dark?<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />what sound can keep us awake<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />that even noise can embrace silence still?</span></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-53325276214364902762013-11-14T21:30:00.000+08:002013-11-15T20:27:17.383+08:00The Call To Live Awake (Day 6)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">i am banished from a place <br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />where the conversations move<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />freely between me and you<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />the day ends with stories <br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />i can no longer tell like a <br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />heart filled tale <br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />and i am absent<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />from the words i say</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">like a ghost lingering<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />in the small white frame <br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />where what exists is only<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />a shell of what was left<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />between me and you<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" /><br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />like an echo whispering <br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />over and over in the dark <br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />remember my name<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />remember my name<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />remember my name<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" /><br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />or a dream that was left<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />back into the night<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />what has become<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />what has become<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />what has become<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" /><br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />and the words which are all<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />that is left as the remains<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />of conjoined journey forgotten<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />become empty as <br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />dried up seeds <br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />of trees longing for rain</span></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-20904168473298588652013-11-13T07:30:00.000+08:002013-11-15T20:26:27.059+08:00The Call To Live Awake (Day 5)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Accepting oneself is not easy especially if you’ve battled years of struggling to find a place to fit in. The struggling to adjust to the people around you and not being able to bare your entire self as transparently as you need to exhale and breathe can feel like an imprisonment or slow suffocating death. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Lately, I’ve been thinking about this because receiving God’s love means I receive it for myself and this love should be able to help me accept myself with all my flaws and idiosyncrasies. I haven’t been able to wrap my mind around it else I would be completely secure in His love all the time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">God’s love is not easy to anchor on especially if acceptance and affirmation is something we always rely on other people for. It’s not easy to anchor on to someone you cannot see, talk to or hang out with. But I’ve realized that by not anchoring myself on Him, I too am not able to completely receive other people’s love completely as well. I will always doubt, question or be critical. I will always wonder if what people share with me is real. And I will always hurt when I realize that not everybody is as real as they would like to be. </span></div>
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<strong style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The fact of the matter is, nobody is as real as we would like to be until we have decided to get real with God. Until we are able to get the guts to ask God to show us the truth about ourselves, it is impossible to become our real selves.</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Last night’s talk with Sr. Isabel and Tita Malu made me realize that everything in this world passes away. The recent calamities that affected my country should wake me up to the truth about how life is but a vapor. The things that we see and experience everyday can pass away. They reminded me that the only thing to long for is eternity because longing for eternity means longing for that eternal happiness and joy that knows no rejection or separation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Living awake is admitting that what I have in this world and the possessions that I own will never completely create for me that haven of acceptance. It will never be enough. Self-acceptance is only possible once I’ve understood how God has long accepted me. </span></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-85635433888589725412013-11-12T07:19:00.002+08:002014-12-21T07:15:35.527+08:00The Call To Live Awake (Day 4)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I hurdle constantly with the issue of expectation. In a relative world, having expectations is a normal thing. It's the reciprocity of human life. You give and you also expect to receive. You love and you expect to be loved in return. That popular Golden Rule "Do unto others what you want others to do unto you" has gotten me stuck on some issues about expectation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Living awake has made me realize that the golden rule while noble and profound is unrealistic. What you do unto others is seldom ever done unto you. For example. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I listen to about 10 people on the average day. Aside from my consultancy practice, I'm also a youth minister and a daughter and a friend. Listening is an activity that takes up a lot of my time and I happen to like doing it too. I listen quite intently and really go deep into the core issues of people. Just today I had a meeting with a client and he was telling me about his concerns over some changes in his business. I had him articulate what he was thinking and then I asked him what he was feeling about it. In the beginning he felt very bothered about these changes and I continued to ask him how these changes really made him feel in a personal way. By asking him that, he then revealed an insecurity that made him react in such a way that led him to being in a defensive stance. Instead of being able to understand what was happening completely, he couldn't just yet. Helping him go deeper into what he was feeling and accepting his feelings as he shared them helped him feel safer and come to his own realisation of what he needed to do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Having the emotional stamina to go through these dialogues is an important thing. Not a lot of people can actually have the same stamina as I do. I am however blessed with a few friends who God has allowed to walk with me during this season. Fortunately enough for me they have the same emotional aptitude as me when it comes to listening. But I can only count these people with one hand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The expectation issue that is bothersome is the fact that not everybody can really do for you what you do for them. It can be sad and discouraging but I've realized that the torment you go through for being emotionally deprived of reciprocation is growing in the understanding that the little inconveniences are windows to receive the consolation you need from the Only One who can always be there. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's not always an easy thing. God in His nature and with our limited ability to appreciate Him do not always connect as intimately as we want to. It brings us to an uncomfortable situation where we begin to doubt if He is there at all. We expect God to be able to reach us in a way that we will clearly understand Him. We expect God to be able to talk to us the way we want Him to talk to us. We expect Him to be like us. And when He isn't, we become impatient and grumble at His seeming absence.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We throw Him questions about why our lives are miserable or frustrating. We bang our fists and demand His salvation. <strong>The truth is it is our own self-absorption that keeps us from seeing Him.</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Living awake has made me realize that the more I focus on myself, the less receptive I am to Him. The less sensitive I am to His presence. The less open I am to receive His love. <strong> It's ironic because we expect so much from other people but we expect so very little from our God who has promised us everything.</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">May I always expect more from you God than from others. In this way I can be more compassionate to their shortcomings because Your love can fill all that I need anyway. </span></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-12615318873547089562013-11-11T07:08:00.000+08:002014-12-21T07:16:06.967+08:00The Call To Live Awake (Day 3)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Distractions are the common man's band aid to the small things that affect life. I have many. But for the past few weeks God has stripped me off my distractions to focus my attention to certain things. Sometimes I complain because I feel deprived of the more pleasant things that I see other people experience. I grumble at how other people can be insensitive to my difficulties and play deaf to my pleas for help. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This particular season of my life has forced me to take a good look at what I value in myself and other people. And I've realized how I can count with my hands what I really value the most. I value truthfulness and authenticity. I value deep conversations. I value learning and reflecting. I value meaningful companionship. I value honouring good memories. I value true loyalty. I value faithfulness. When you're being stripped away off everything that you thought was valuable to you, you begin to realize that what you thought was valuable in your life wasn't and what you thought wasn't valuable actually is. When you're down to nothing after you have given everything away you begin to understand that only a few people will completely receive who you are and the kind of person you really desire to become. Only a few people will stand by you to walk with you closely and help you patiently hurdle every challenge and rejoice with your small wins. You begin to see the people who are not there for the long haul and the people who are only there for the merry making and casual pleasantries. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>God shakes your life to sift your life</strong>. It isn't the first time I've gone through this but I suppose it is the first time I've really taken the time to listen to what He is telling me. It's the first time I'm letting myself fully pay attention and courageously let myself be undistracted so that I can truly let Him work on me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There are many moments when I would rather shut myself down and go indifferent to His voice. Many are the moments when I would rather play deaf and turn on the music and dance the night away. Oh I remember those days when I thought indifference and drunkenness will make me the tougher woman. I was wrong. Emotional distractions do not toughen you up. They weaken your ability to be sensitive to His proddings leading you to a more lasting solace and pervading peace. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I find things unbearable to endure I am grateful for the handful of people who God surrounds me with. Angels who encourage me to fight the good fight of faith. Helping me make decisions leading towards the eternal and not the temporal. Leading towards true peace and happiness than a make shift substitute. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Living awake means knowing what makes the real difference in your life and choosing to move towards it one step at a time. </span></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-65596471806674487492013-11-10T10:27:00.001+08:002014-12-21T07:15:05.116+08:00The Call To Live Awake (Day 2)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Purity isn't a subject matter that I have allowed myself to be familiar with. In fact I have evaded it for the longest time. I'd often react to the word and cringe at the memories of how many moments I've been the total opposite. I still do to this day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've been struggling with understanding chastity for most my life not because I don't want to be chaste or am not trying to be but because I don't see how else I can be chaste and how I can overcome the world's many distractions and temptations that can keep me from being chaste. I have been pondering about this for a while and yesterday I finally took time to visit <a data-mce-href="http://chastityproject.com/" href="http://chastityproject.com/">Jason and Crystalina Evert's page</a>. I've heard about them around 3 years ago but didn't really make the connection. I suppose in my head I've already concluded that my struggle with chastity is an impossible battle and I've scarred my purity so deep with my lifestyle in the past that I will never just completely get it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As soon as I started to watch their videos and listen to their talks about chastity the wall just broke. And God's grace exposed the long time wound that hasn't been properly healed because I concluded it wasn't a big deal and buried it under the rug. I buried my own thoughts about my dignity under a rug. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">What I learned about chastity does not only relate to promiscuity but it's how the lack of it keeps us from having a deep reverence and love for our total beings. I realized that our wanting to be chaste is deeply anchored to our belief that who we are is lovingly created by God. That our identity is deeply rooted in Him. When we choose not to be chaste, a part of knowing that identity is severed or will be incomplete. When we choose not be chaste (in thoughts, deeds or acts) we hurt that part of ourselves that can willingly and easily respond to God's love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's only by God's grace that I'm able to face these truths today. I walked down memory lane last night and asked Him to show me the areas in my life where I've kept my identity from Him. There are too many and I grieve for those moments when I preferred to keep a distorted view of who I am because it was what was comfortable and acceptable. It was what fit in. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today, I start living awake by reclaiming a new sense of purpose in understanding the gift and virtue of chastity. I start living awake by understanding how keeping this virtue leads me even deeper into discovering the love that is already present and the love that I can all the more have with Christ's love holding my heart. </span></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-64913694206306973742013-11-09T22:00:00.000+08:002013-11-10T08:38:07.711+08:00The Call to Live Awake (Day 1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>How much do I understand what I believe?</strong> This was the pressing question that left me after today's talk on "Understanding the Eucharist". While I've attended similar talks like this throughout my life there was something different about this one. Perhaps it was because I am more desperate in seeking the truth or perhaps God just really wanted me to be jolted awake. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Lex orandi legem credendi constituit.</strong> <em>The law of prayer determines the law of belief or the way we pray reveals what we believe.</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After the talk we gathered to share our thoughts and many in the table agreed mostly one thing. How can we say that we keep seeking God in daily life? In praise music? In worship gatherings? In one another? When we cannot even see Him in the Eucharist where His presence is the most real? There must be something terribly amiss about what we continue to profess as our belief. Listening to the few young people who have decided to go to this morning's talk helped me open more of my heart to God's movement in my soul. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">He wants me to live awake. He doesn't want me to miss it. He doesn't want me to miss His presence that is real in the sacrament He has instituted for us to receive His unfailing love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The mere fact I can still forget just goes to show how terribly weak I can get with my resolve when I only use my own will to move me towards deepening my life of faith. So the prayer I have learned of late is a pray whispered to me in the late nights of solitude. <strong>"I pray I desire you more Jesus. Please awaken my heart to your love."</strong> Thomas Merton's words continue to echo and I am reminded that desiring God is already Him desiring us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The words resound in my head. <strong> Live awake daughter.</strong> And so I am jolted into awareness of everything else that is going on around me. Carrying that new found understanding of the Eucharist and how this understanding helps grow my appreciation for it and transforms me into answering the Lord's call to <strong>"Go in peace to love and serve the Lord and one another!" </strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Living awake today I see the many different stories about the aftermath of typhoon Yolanda. Living awake today I remember the remains of the recent earthquake down south. Living awake today moves me to look through photos of these calamities and say a quiet prayer for those lives that have been affected and taken away. Living awake moves me to be grateful that I am alive and safe and able enough to be of help to those who need me today. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Last night when the rain poured and the wind howled and the electricity was cut for almost 4 hours, I laid on my bed listening to the strength of the storm. How can nature can nurture life but at the same time destroy it? How can God watch all of these? Luckily I've read something that helped me grapple with these questions and to my mind it's simple. <strong>God only moves when we pray.</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today, I pray I stay awake to how He moves in my life so that I will never lose sight of the hope He alone has promised to fulfill. </span></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-62020406335811108752013-07-18T10:52:00.003+08:002013-07-18T10:53:46.924+08:00A Eucharisteo Moment <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I walk in a rhythm of highs and lows. Interaction after interaction. Seeing the hearts in need of help. In a deep deep hunger for soothing peace. Every person I encounter resembles my aching and I dig deep with them. To see the hurt and the pain. And wait with them till the light of God’s comfort embraces them whole. <br><br>
The past few weeks have been tuning in to this rhythm. And I get tuned in so deep and this morning I uncoil from the work and breathe. I spend some time listening to the voice of encouragement. Going back to that one thing that has helped me keep my grace-filled rhythm constant. <br><br>
Ann Voskamp does that for me. And tuning in to her eucharisteo rhythm which she discovered at the height of her anxiety-filled life brings me into a solace that I would never have known had I not learned the habit of counting gifts. <br><br>
860. Noodles for yesterday’s lunch <br>
861. The peaceful moments listening to encouraging words <br>
862. Blue masking tape for the brown notebooks give away <br>
863. The rain filling days with quiet <br>
864. Money to pay for things <br>
865. Gift certificates for Starbucks <br>
866. My Virgin Mary pendant, Mom’s birthday gift <br>
867. Light moments with family, remembering Malaysia & Europe <br>
This morning I remember why I chose to let go of all that felt safe. My job. The expected achievement of my career practice. And I wade in this pool of possibility. Waiting moment after moment for God to show up in the ways He loves me. <br><br>
This morning, I breathe easy and I’m grateful. Slowing down to notice the birds chirping. Slowing down to pay attention to the gift of living my one life well. </div>katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-49812652326168824692013-04-24T10:52:00.002+08:002013-04-25T21:56:02.391+08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I am worn out God. My humanity is worn out. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. And today I humbly admit that before you. I am worn out. I am worn out by the physical and emotional demands of ministry. Worn out by the demands of my work. I am worn out. Have I admitted that to myself enough? Do people around me know that the past 10 years of being so involved with care-giving has worn me out? Yet despite this weariness I hunger desperately for the in-filling I know that only You can give.</div>
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Only in this weariness can I recognise my own neediness for such an in-filling that no one else can supply but You. No person. No accomplishment. No companionship. Nothing is enough when the weariness of man cracks the bone. Nothing but You Beloved.</div>
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Oh how I've seen You laced around fingers of their raised hands. In the dark room where prayer rose from the depths of broken hearts. I saw You God. I saw You wrestle with their woes & struggle to get them still enough to attend to their wounds. I saw You in their frenzy and I saw You in their doubts. I saw You as they groped and flailed their arms to try and get a hold of Yours.</div>
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And all this seeing somehow makes me ache to keep Your presence alive. Yet my humanity is not enough to contain it. And that is where the struggle of overcoming the weariness of the flesh begins to nag like an unrelenting gong waking up what has been put to sleep.
While I know that I can always step into Your peace, I wonder greatly how this peace can continue to permeate the noise that is ever so present in this life. The chatter. The whispers.</div>
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Can You hover above us like a comforting blanket of Silence? Can You enfold us with such a great sense of safety so that we will not be afraid to Be Still?
Can You teach us above all to follow through these days with a deep reverence that moves us into a posture of awe? And from this awe, can we begin to flow through a journey of authentic transformation that starts from our personal decision to just simply choose You above all?</div>
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I am worn out God. But it is in this weariness that I become desperate to be enclosed in Your tabernacle, listening to just You.
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-39399802908910101192013-04-24T00:57:00.003+08:002013-04-24T00:57:47.720+08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The days have been long since I've gotten myself to post here again. So many things have happened the past month and most of my cluttered thoughts have been <a href="http://iwritetobelieve.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">chronicled in fragments</a> for only fragments can be mustered right now. </div>
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It's 44 minutes past midnight and I'm tuning into a place of silence I haven't had in a while. It's 2 days since the eleventh encounter weekend with the youth ministry. It's been 26 days since my dear spiritual mentor Tita Belle has passed away. It's been 95 days since I decided to take on a different route with my work.</div>
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So many moments have passed and there is only one thought in my head right now. I want to live my life with a meaningful rhythm void of haste and solely relying on the flow of God's grace.</div>
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I have been in many conversations the past few months. Things to achieve. Things to complete. Things to pursue. Things to fix. People to listen to. People to mend. People to care for. It seems like a whole new set of things to work on and despite the changed work rhythm, I think that I still haven't found the right rhythm for me to attend to all the things that need my attention.</div>
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I'm catching my breath most days. Sighing in between sentences. Watching the world move while I try to find words to capture my thoughts. I just fall into the rhythm and clutching a prayer I let myself be carried away. Believing that my Savior holds my hand through it all and leading me through the valley of shadows. </div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-89132845441125573962013-03-14T09:25:00.001+08:002013-03-14T09:30:47.319+08:00He Chose the Name Francis<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I am called back to the memory of Assisi. The pink stoned walls and the peaceful prayers whispered on the way up to the Basilica of Saint Francis. <br><br>
Francis. The name of our new Pope. He chose the name of a man who traced the pink walls with his hands. Once rich and robed, he tossed out his wealth to choose the countryside instead of his castle. A man who sang to the earth and called out to brother moon and sister sun. A man whose heart longed to be this channel of peace and borne out of his heart is Assisi. A peaceful little city crowning the mountains Umbria, Italy.<br><br>
I watched the news this morning to know more about Papa Francesco. They say he rode the bus to work and chose the apartment instead of the archbishop's palace. His first words to the public was to ask for blessings instead of giving his blessing. He seems to have a different default. Asking, receiving first instead of giving. And is it not such an act of faith? Of humility? To know that one is in need of something first before he can give? <br><br>
Perhaps this is the new chapter of our faith's history. Knowing that we are in dire need of peace. And to keep walking steadfastly is to recognize this need and just softly ask. For in asking, there can be believing. And in believing, we may receive. <br><br>katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-2417254499708661722013-02-10T22:09:00.003+08:002013-02-10T22:19:17.586+08:00A Song for Paris<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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aboard the Bateaux Mouche</div>
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the cold and crisp air of Paris sang</div>
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hands folded inside knitted gloves</div>
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scarves like cupped hands around our necks</div>
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the warm taste of coffee from a 4 inch cup</div>
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held tight to last the 45 minute tour</div>
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we waltzed through the canal</div>
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the Eiffel loomed over</div>
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shadows of its height</div>
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all gray against the orange of fall</div>
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the ride was slow and every bridge </div>
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there greeted passerby <br />made the foreign visit home</div>
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Paris unveiled quiet dreams</div>
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all forgotten in the backseat of desire</div>
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stories whispering peace</div>
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anticipated the holiday of trees</div>
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we passed the bookshop </div>
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where books hid lives</div>
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and the clock ticked of time</div>
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the clock ticked of time</div>
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she waved goodbye </div>
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and her heart</div>
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gazed through her eyes</div>
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but her smile, her smile</div>
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a rosy colored bloom</div>
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against the autumn Paris sky<br />
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<i>I write this in memory of Tita Lisa Caro. One of the fellow pilgrims who travelled with us on Bus Number 5 during last year's Europe tour. She passed away this week and went home to be with the Father after winning her battle with breast cancer.</i></div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-15285101886793910432013-02-07T19:37:00.004+08:002013-02-07T19:47:22.947+08:00Anxious No More<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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There are many interesting things that have been happening to me these past 3 weeks. It's been a journey out of and into another chapter of my life. And this chapter is the chapter that makes me face that thing I want to do the most. <b>Write. </b></div>
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The stories on this page have been slow because I've been trying to discover what it is that I want to really write about and when I ask myself this question, I begin to ask myself the most important question: <b>what am I really about? </b></div>
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It doesn't feel so difficult to ask now compared to before. I'd squirm and I'd let my gaze wander off into a blank wall or I'd stiffen up and change the subject because I don't really want to dig in too deep and ask myself that because I fear the answer to that question. I fear having to say it out loud. I fear having to type it out here. </div>
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<b>What am I really about? I don't really know. </b></div>
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I don't really have it all figured out just yet. It's been a while since I've looked into what I want to do and where I want to take my life but the past few months have led me to make decisions of leaving a job and moving into another kind of work that doesn't really let me walk on stable ground <b>but</b> it's given me the most opportunity to discover what it is that I'm really good at doing. </div>
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And it's not a canned position where I receive a written document full of sentences dictated by someone who probably does not understand what I can do. It's not an all boxed up role where I should only be doing one particular thing and not cross over to another activity because it would somehow have this awkward feeling of overlapping on to another person's responsibility. <b>It's that kind of work that let's you discover yourself in the process and by doing that you begin to discover what you're really good at. </b></div>
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I've decided to start a career in consulting. It feels the most appropriate to me given this whole need to be liberated from the constraints of systems and structures that stifle and suck out opportunities to be creative. It also gives me the opportunity to choose. The old paradigm of employment simply puts you in the waiting end. If you do not fit the mold, you have to settle for the next best thing. But these days, <b>I'm seeing people who flourish creating opportunities for themselves and that tells me, if you don't fit the mold, then create one for yourself. </b></div>
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I think, I've wallowed in the victim's pit for too long. I've analyzed my own situation back and forth, inside and out. So the past 3 weeks have been some sort of springboard journey to see if I can pick up my own weight and move forward into an adventure of creating this space that I can fill and be of help to others by being the best version of myself.</div>
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God, in the middle of all this, has been a faithful companion. I sit with His words in the morning and mull them over until deep into the night. And His faithfulness washes like a river's flow and soothes all the old aches and pains of busy work toil. These days have been uncovering for me what it's like to really Believe in Him. The things He says He will do. The promises that have been written unfold slowly but I get to see them come to pass. </div>
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<b>Do not be anxious about anything</b>, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7)</blockquote>
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linking up with <a href="http://www.emilywierenga.com/" target="_blank">Emily</a> for Imperfect Prose Thursdays</div>
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-15419687752701904382013-02-03T20:22:00.000+08:002013-02-03T20:22:01.340+08:00Seeing God Today<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Every thought of the past often triggers an anxious thought about the future. When I look at what happened yesterday, I used to often wonder if tomorrow will be better or will be worse. It’s an endless cycle of anxiety that robs me of what God is doing today.<br />
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He says with much conviction. <b>SEE! </b><br />
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It is an urgent invitation as if He knows we are going to miss something good if we do not look. When I keep looking back at what has been. When I dwell on the trauma of what has scarred me I am not able turn my gaze to what God is doing now. This very moment.<br />
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He is doing something <b>NEW</b>.<br />
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When we do not feel that God is doing anything at all, it is not because He isn’t. It is primarily because we do not SEE.
Seeing what God is trying to do calls for us to stop insisting on what we think He is doing or responding ever so quickly to a circumstance that jolts or shakes the ground we walk on. <br />
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Seeing God calls us to go slow into the moment and let His words take root until the restlessness of what we think yields the need to control the situation.
Seeing God calls us to suspend trying to respond to the nagging of the “what ifs”. Seeing God calls us to wait calmly for the new to rise. <br />
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-63730399779689450412013-01-27T09:54:00.004+08:002013-01-27T09:54:48.720+08:00Heaven Sees Me Walking<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The week has been my first week outside the work environment I've lived in for 4 years. I've packed my things in boxes and silently slipped out the door. A week before that a team of artists gave me a surprise gathering as a "send off" and a framed caricature of my face with all these handwritten notes thanking me for what I have done for them.<br />
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It was an overwhelming feeling to be deeply acknowledged like that and I can only find my words in acts of gratitude. There is nothing else to say when you know that you haven't been as perfect as you can be yet people see through your imperfections so gracefully and honor the heart you put into the effort.<br />
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These are moments that seldom pass ones life but when they do, you can't help but stop and just lift up a song of praise for being affirmed that Heaven sees me walking.<br />
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Heaven sees me walking. Walking above the circumstances that may have brought me down. Walking above the perceptions. Walking above the impossibilities. <br />
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And today I am just grateful. <br />
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Oh, I am so far from where I want to really be. But for some reason the ambition to get to the destination is no longer as great as the desire to keep being faithful and show up for what I need to do everyday. <br />
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And those are little things. Showing up for prayers before the break of dawn. Showing up for journaling the cluttered thoughts. Showing up for counting the gifts of everyday. Showing up for reading the living Word. And so on.<br />
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Last night I showed up for a moment of remembering some of the old songs I loved. I went through a playlist of Indigo Girls and felt reconnected to a part of me I've stopped being. I forgotten how much I loved music. And while the thought frustrates me how I've abandoned this talent for the sake of earning a living, I am grateful that I still have ears to hear and a cracked raw voice to sing.<br />
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katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7684587226280854865.post-14351654668777306822013-01-20T10:57:00.001+08:002013-01-20T10:57:13.816+08:00Grace Overwhelming<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A morning of light musings. Flipping the pages of the Holy Book and seeing Hebrews as a letter to me from Paul who wrote this centuries ago. I saw markings of where I stopped reading. Verses I highlighted seven years before starting only to come true for me seven years later.<br />
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I'm hungry to dig into his words. Words fueled by the passionate witness of a Savior who set him free. Free from the life that accused him and stereotyped him. Free from a life of control. Free from the unnecessary anxieties the clamor for his attention.<br />
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This is the life I want. And I am happy to have been able to reach this place despite the long journey that took to get me here. I'm walking feebly. Obviously exhausted from the past days of struggling to get to this freedom. And now I'm just tasting restoration moment by moment.<br />
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Faith rising with the words, <b>"We are not among those who draw back and perish, but among those who have faith and will possess life."</b><br />
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I walk with my eyes lifted and my gaze fixed. A resolve I've chosen to make minute by minute. My weak mind distracted often from the concerns of daily living needs to be anchored on to the hope that does not disappoint.<br />
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Paul encourages me through the doubts and the fears of past circumstances that have blinded me of the true worth God has given me because of his unconditional love. And while I sit on my desk looking at numerous stacks of books and letters from people of theology and highly spiritual backgrounds, I let their words just reverberate silently like whispers of angels guarding. I can't read them all. But I can read some. And today Paul's letter to the Hebrews has been made relevant and alive again.<br />
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He goes on, <b>"Let us hold unwaveringly to our confession that gives us hope, for he who made the promise is trustworthy." </b><br />
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I am of feeble faith. I know that now. And the only way I can strengthen it everyday is read and digest these words over and over. Saying them out loud to myself. And the slow transformation of my mind begins. Like a recoiling. Like an unravelling.<br />
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I've witnessed many miracles this week and through circumstances that might have been impossible to recognize as gifts. But they are there right infront of me. The courage to move on. The boldness to speak truth. The bravery to take that jump. The landing of a job. Being held in the assurance of hope. Dreams that fuel the walk forward. The weather that cooperates. The birds that sing. The client that gives his piece of wisdom. The parents who support. The friends who walk on. <br />
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And it flows like a river. This grace overwhelming. </div>
katherinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08898841995187224380noreply@blogger.com0