The Big and the Little

It has been 2 weeks, 1 Hawaii vacation, and 1 first day of school since my last post. This means I am due for a new one. Trouble is, I have no new thoughts. Or more accurately, they have been thoughts along the lines of "Where on earth did they hide the Psych room?" "Did he really just LICK that?!?" and "rolloverhitthesnoozebutton....10moreminutes1omore." The last one really is how I think at 6 am. And multiple paragraphs of these sort of thoughts don't make for much of an edifying blog post. Instead, here are 5 things I'm thankful for, big and little, in no particular order.

1. Words For many reasons, words are one of my very favorite things. They are how people communicate, whether it be talking, or emails, or books, or letters, or postcards. Written words are how God chose to communicate with us. They are how people miles apart can stay in touch, and how mom can remind you via sticky-note that you really need to clean your room. We make ourselves known through them, teach through them, share through them.

2. Coffee surprise! Not only do I love it for the caffeine content and the smell, I love how it allows for people to just sit. The same goes for tea. Nothing else says to a person "I want you to stay for awhile to talk" than handing them a mug of something warm. After all, they have to wait for the beverage to cool some, and then they have to drink it all. It gives you a good 1/2 hr to an hr., and by then you'll have a good conversation rolling and all thoughts of science homework have gone out the door. Cheers!

3. Clouds I grew up in a place with trees. Lots and lots of very tall trees. It wasn't until I moved to a tree-less city that I really saw the sky- and the clouds in it. Cirrus clouds are my favorite, the thin whispy type, like ribbons across the sky. Cirrus clouds means high winds and unfavorable flying conditions. There's one outside my window now, it's a color undefinable by Crayola crayon, but looks like the center of a Cadbury Egg. Clouds make me think: about the weather that's coming, about the sort of shapes they could be, about the colors they are, about how neat it was that God gave us so much to wonder about and enjoy in a fluff of condensed water vapor.

4. Movies & Friends & Sugar Particularly tonight, when some of my favorite people are coming over to watch one of my favorite books (made into a motion picture, obviously) and eat some of my favorite types of cookies. And almost every other night, when I get to watch a.) a cop show b.)a spy/sci-fi/thriller drama show or c.) this is my developmentally-disabled child and these are the great lengths I go to to "..........." movie with my family, who pretty much only likes 3 types of entertainment.

5. First Days of School Really, I am thankful for the fact that I can spend the first week recovering from whatever break I was currently on by listening to my Professor read aloud the syllabus. It's a wonderful thing, knowing 90% of the time there will be no homework assigned on the first day, and if it is, it's usually just an assignment to go home and read the syllabus yourself. It's like a welcome-back gift!

There they were, 5 things. This type of post will appear every once in awhile when I have little else to write about. I realize I am not thankful enough, when I have so much to be thankful for. Though I deserve nothing and salvation is the greatest gift, God has still given me this life to live and enjoy! So I will be greatful for it and enjoy the masterpiece God has created in the sky while drinking a cup of coffee.

Reflections on Adventures in Narnia

Happy New Year! I hope everyone had an absolutely wonderful holiday (it's my favorite one!) and is enjoying whatever is left of Christmas break. I definitely am.

Christmas was lovely, and my parents surprised us with a trip to Hawaii from the 11th to the 18 of January. The prospect of sunny beaches between me and Spring semester is oh-so-wonderful. We should do this every year! Until then, I will content myself with the happy memories from the past weekend.

A week after Christmas, I packed up and headed to Denver, CO, where I met up with the WVA staff for 4 days. Needless to say, it was epic. There were snowballs, caffeine runs (Starbucks or the Pepsi machine, take your pick!), games, conversations, fireworks, frisbee games-in the snow-, and even a saran-wrapped staffer. And of course, a whole lotta' silliness. Meet the best college staff in America!

While there is little in this world able to beat a game of Killer Uno, or even a round of German Duck-Duck Goose, what I loved most about the weekend was the encouragement that came in the form of spontaneous hallway conversations and small group prayer. As a few of us would sit and dialog about our experiences since the summer and what we had- or hadn't- learned and applied, I felt the struggle to remain intentional with our lives at home was reiterated over and over again. Frankly, intentionality is a whole lot easier when someone else provides you with a schedule detailing every half hour from 7:30 am to 11:30 pm. The language Paul uses constantly throughout his letters, however, involves fighting and struggles and war. I.E., nothing involving 'easy.' Not to say that life has to always be difficult and challenging, merely that our purpose here is to run hard after Christ and stay our positions (2 Tim. 2:1-6). Therefore, my main 'war'- if I can call it that- is here, at home. And so it was often mulled over how we are to live at home in light of our experiences in Narnia- as I have affectionately taken to calling it as the Cook family does.

On Christmas day, our family went to see the Dawn Treader and a quote at the end stuck out to me. Aslan had just finished telling Lucy and Edmund they could no longer return to Narnia, naturally, they were a little distraught. I would be too.

" ' Are-are you there to, Sir?' said Edmund.

'I am," said Aslan. 'But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that be knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.' "

I love this because it sums up everything I wanted to say so much neater than I could've, because

I struggled with my specific purpose at camp. I knew, of course, that I was supposed to be there, after

all, that's where I was. But after that, I really had next to no idea. So after spending the past 6 months

trying to figure it out, I think I have it. I saw God work in ways I never had before while I was at camp,

provide in ways I don't know I'd ever asked for Him to provide in. He stirred up in me a greater recognition

of His mighty power and faithful love, so that I would have a taste of it and seek more. Now I cannot claim

God's specific purposes in doing anything- other than He does that which brings glory to Himself.

For the New Year, then, I want to act on my knowledge of God. Not just on Sundays, Bible Study nights,

in the mornings, during Worldview stuff, or when I feel particularly spiritual. I want my love for God to be so great

(and love comes through knowing Him), that I act upon that love first thing when I wake up, throughout

breakfast and classes, lunch, late afternoon coffee and homework. Play time, sleep time, practice time, study

time, all the time. That, dear friends, is my one resolution for the new year. Many little ones I am sure

will come underneath its umbrella, but I can aim no higher than the glory of God.

Dear Whoever-is-Reading-This,

I just couldn't say "Dear Reader." It sounds too much like Dear Abbey. Today the low's are supposed to be 29, and it's supposed to rain. I would like snow. Please?

I haven't written in forever, I apologize for the neglect- it's rather pathetic. I had midterms, finals, Fall Camp...and now it's Thanksgiving Break! I, however, am listening to Christmas music. Technically I'm not allowed to until after Thanksgiving Dinner, per Dad's request- er -command. There's a reason mom bought him a Scrooge hat. Anyways, Thanksgiving is in two days. I came home from class today (Napa's lame and made us go to school this week) to a bubbling pot of jeweled cranberries that I couldn't help but taking a spoonful of....just a little one. Or two. Cranberry sauce is the highlight of Thanksgiving for me, a hallmark of the season when I realize the taste I had while it was still cooking also ended up on the hem of my white blouse. Of course, Sweet Potato casserole comes in a very close second, mainly because it's topped with marshmallows and brown sugar and oh-my-goodness is it good! Instead of shopping on Black Friday, I eat that stuff for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Talk about a serious sugar buzz.

Thanksgiving day mom usually requests that the entire family starve (ok, so we're allowed a bowl of cereal) until it's dinner time. Riiiiiight...I remember one Thanksgiving in particular where this was strictly enforced. We were all driving out to my cousins' in Danville and my brother and I hadn't eaten anything the whole day. I thought we were going to die. Really. Thankfully, my aunt had compassion (i.e. she had a large bowl of trail mix in the center of the coffee table) and Malcolm and I didn't die. Then there's the usual dinner with all the regular stuff. Of course there's no room for dessert after dinner, so we go for a walk. If we're at my grandparent's in Pt. Reyes we may hike. Hardcore, I know. Coming back home after this is the best feeling: the coffee's on and dessert is out. We stay for maybe another hour and on the drive home we cajole dad to "Please, pleeease let us listen to Christmas music now?" It doesn't take a lot. Once at home, we put on another pot of coffee- maybe tea- get in comfy clothes and watch a show. While eating more dessert, of course. I usually put up my Christmas lights around 10-11 that night. Thanksgiving is over.

That's still in two days, though. Right now I'm waiting for mama to come home and watch E.R. The clouds are drifting over the no-longer-blue sky. I am thankful. Thankful for all the little things like letters, chai, comfy socks, Christmas music. For people like my parents, who take me out to breakfast before school; my crazy brothers- one who's more of a hardcore shopper than I am, the other one who constantly laughs at the dinner table and my best friends who make me drive to Sac. in rainstorms, like coffee as much as me, and read my blog. I am thankful for Christ who gives me joy in His Son, even though I am an "are not" (1 Cor. 1:28).

Happy Thanksgiving!!

~Hannah

Eternal Creatures

My family and I went camping over Labor Day weekend about a month ago. One of the things I adore about camping is that zero requirements exist on your time, with the exception of eating. This allows for copious napping and time to just sit and think without a cloud of uselessness hanging over your head, because there is absolutely nothing requiring you to be useful. During one of these sessions, I started to think about Heaven. Not because the smoke currently bombarding my face reminded me of Heaven at all, but merely because I had been thinking about it lately.

It had struck me that we cannot hope for something we have not tasted. I am currently reading When I Don't Desire God by John Piper and he had been talking about desire and hope. With this thought then, we cannot hope for Heaven if we have not already tasted of it. Obviously, none of us has died, experienced Heaven, and then resurrected in order that we may hope for Heaven. This would make no sense whatsoever. The only other option, then, is that we experience some of Heaven on earth.

This is the idea I was mulling over while freezing in front of a Saturday morning fire which hadn't quite got up to size yet. At what points do we catch glimpses of Heaven? What are the necessary factors? And how do we even know enough about what Heaven is like to be able to see something that sparks recognition of it and causes yearning? We have all, at some point or another, probably experienced something that made us say, "That was a little bit of Heaven." I'm sure some of those times that particular statement has also stemmed from the somewhat obnoxious habit of exaggeration, or from another tendency people have to over-use phrases so they no longer have a special meaning anymore. Other times, though, it really is a foretaste of Heaven.

For fear of pinning down to a science something that I'm not sure should necessarily be understood, I don't want to lay claim to knowing when, where, or how God's children can experience those foretaste's of Heaven. Often I think they come and go so fast, because they are marred by our sin. Maybe the most obvious way is through what we read in Scripture. Images of streets of gold and jewel-studded gates inhabit our minds as something we could only dream about, but that the Bible says awaits us. I cannot help but think, however, that our finite minds have limited our ideas of Heaven to poor human images. It seems almost shameful to merely think of Heaven in terms of material riches, for if God can do far more beyond what we can ask or imagine, why would Heaven be merely the jeweled city in our minds? What makes me hopeful is the idea that Heaven is perfection, it is everything purely as God meant it to be. "Nothing impure will ever enter it [Heaven], nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life." (Revelation 21:27

I’m just finishing up a book called A Severe Mercy, and towards the end of it the main character is reflecting on the nature of time and why we always seem to be so harried by it.

“Then, if we complain of time and take such joy in the seemingly timeless moment, what does that suggest?

It suggests that we have not always been or will not always be purely temporal creatures. It suggests that we were created for eternity. Not only are we harried by time, we seem unable, despite a thousand generations, even to get used to it. We are always amazed at it- how fast it goes, how slowly it goes, how much of it is gone. Where, we cry, has the time gone? We aren’t adapted to it, not at home in it, if that is so, it may appear as a proof, or at least a powerful suggestion, that eternity exists and is our home.” (203)

Mr. Vanauken states it better than I could’ve ever done: we are made for Heaven, and therefore we long for it- all be it sometimes unknowingly. Here I will stop, all my words seeming superfluous next to his, with this one statement (again, not my words): “Therefore, since we have such a hope (in Heaven) we are very bold.” 2 Corinthians 3:12

Tracing the Sunbeam

Today is Thursday. I usually prefer to post on Tuesdays, or Wednesdays depending on the week. This week, however, I arrived to Tuesday and I didn't have anything to write about. At least not anything prepared, and trust me, you don't want to read my stuff until it's prepared. So I have decided to expand on the purpose of this blog.

As mentioned in the nebulous "about me" section, I just started my freshman year of college. I came from a summer of staffing for a leadership camp in the South East of the US, and gained a lot of knowledge about the lengths to which God can stretch His children. Upon my return, I began to realize that through this sanctification process, God was showing me how abundantly full life can be. That that's how it was meant to be (John 10:10). Of course, I wanted to know how this looked practically. I wanted to know how I was supposed to live this life abundant and how I was to pursue it. So I started asking questions.

I am currently sitting in a very busy coffee shop in St. Helena, a town devoted solely to wine, specialty food shops, and consignment clothing boutiques. Driving from Napa, I watched the fog and mist lift to reveal the vineyard-surrounded hills on either side of the road. It is seriously one of the most beautiful drives in the world. In a couple minutes I have my second class of the day, English 120, and then I get to go home and do homework. This is my life- 4 hours of it anyway. And it is here where I ponder the relevance of an abundant life. How does this promise fit into Econ homework, breaks in coffee shops, and drives that leave me wondering how long this tank of gas will last?

As best as I can figure it, we are called to have joy in these day-to-day occurrences. Yes, it's easy to take joy in the big events we like to classify as "life:" births, weddings, anniversaries, deaths,- and on and on it goes. It's the rest of it that makes up our lives, though. The dishes, school, errands, work, conversations. How we react to this daily life is up to us. If we take joy in the object/activity alone, we are forgetting our Maker and simply enjoying the pleasures of this world. However, when we trace that joy back to Christ and put it in Him, we reflect Him. Our joy is no longer in the quickly fading, but in the Eternal.

This is why my blog exists. Because too often I take joy in the fading things of life without remembering exactly that: they fade. It's when I write and share things with people, whether it's a conversation, an email, or a blog, that I fully consider all that God has given and done. As corny as it may sound, it's true. God has given His children so many riches to explore in Himself and has granted us an abundance of ways to do that. Here I am then, practicing tracing "back up the sunbeam to the sun."*

*C.S. Lewis

Too Many Lists

I like to do things. I'm the type of person that creates and accomplishes a to-do list solely so I can cross tasks off and have a visible, tangible reminder of what I have done. I have a planner because it makes me feel organized. I have a file box for warranties and car registration and stuff like that because mom told me to. (And if I didn't, all that important paperwork would get lost!). I create color-coordinated schedules for school days, even if I rarely follow them. All this 'organization' is for the mere purpose of making me feel like a diligent, organzied, and studious person, when, in fact I am just the opposite: I procrastinate, I'm always looking for things because of the chaotic state of my room, and I would much rather watch Beverly Hills 90210 than do Economics homework. May I have points for honesty?

I would also rather say, "I am glorifying God," than, "I am loving God." While it is by no means wrong to desire to glorify God, I had it pointed out to me that it's my way of saying, "I like to do things so I can be better loved by God." The desire to be righteous in order to better my standing with God sneaks in all too frequently. Too often I find myself masking my self-righteousness and desire for self-sufficiency with the desire to bring glory to God. The only problem is I can't 'bring' anything, but what He has already given me.

In light of all this, I am asking God for the ability to love. Again, this poses the danger of becoming yet another to-do that I check off my "Ways to be Righteous" list, but that is why I am praying for love. Not that I may have such-and-such an attitude to accomplish this-and-that task, but that I may love. From love stems the desire to bring pleasure to the object of that love.

The line, "love don't come easy," from the Supremes' "Can't Hurry Love" is currently stuck on repeat in my mind. (My Pandora station is rigged, the song has already played twice in two hours.) Am I supposed to fight to love God? John Piper wrote, " Most fighting is not good because it is a proud attempt to prove our own strength at someone else's expense. But the fight for joy is just the opposite. It's a way of saying that we are weak and desperately in need the mercy of God." My fight for joy also encompasses my fight for love. Or maybe it's the other way around? Either way, I cannot take joy in someone I do not love, and I cannot love someone without joy. Therefore, I pursue joy and love, and joy in loving, and loving joy in Christ.

None of this pursuit is accomplished by my ability. Everything I have and can give has already been given to me. I can only love because I was loved first, I can only be joyful because Christ loves and takes delight in me. So as I pursue these, it is only by Christ's might. "It does not, therefore, depend on man's desire or effort, but on God's mercy." (Romans 9:16) By God's mercy, I have already been given all I need: life. Through His mercy, I can pursue this gift with all joy and participate in it with all joy. And because of His mercy, I hope to learn to love.

Looking Upwards

Over the past few weeks or so a dear friend and I have been emailing long novels back and forth about love. It has been an interesting conversation, considering we are both complete romantics, but whereas I generally have a tendency to love and be loved easily, she does not. And thus began a whirlwind conversation on love, 'feeling,' apathy, and joy.

It all began when I started to walk through the still, cold, gray fog of apathy and joyless-ness. You know those days when the sky is completely overcast with flat, texture-less clouds and there's no wind or rain anywhere? Welcome to the world of apathy. You can't feel happy, or sad, or angry, because there's nothing to produce those emotions. No blue skies to conjure a cheerful euphoria, no rain to mirror your desire for tears, no thunderstorms to make you feel alive. Just flat. Still. Dull. It was from this state I was struggling to love people. My fairy-tale saturated mind had a difficult time conceiving the possibility that maybe it was possible to love without feelings?

Meet Cinderella. Equipped with fancy ballgown and sparkly shoes (that apparently have enough staying power to last a night's worth of dancing, but not a trip down the stairs?), off she goes to the ball, only to win Prince Charming's heart in a matter of hours. After a few set backs, they live Happily Ever After. This is the kind of love we would all have in our happy worlds. The mushy, head-over-heels, madly-in-love, swept-off your-feet type. Now for a tad more realism.

Meet Maud. (That's the most drudgery-worthy name I could think of. My apologies if your mother's name is Maud.) Maud doesn't meet Prince Charming, but she meets Prince Good-Enough and therefore settles. She cares for him merely in her actions- there is no feeling behind how she cooks breakfast. She just does it and feels it is enough to love him in her service, as long as life is peaceful and without swells.

Obviously, neither of these fictions are what love actually is. Usually, though, we tend to side with one view or another. My problem was very much wishing for Cinderella, but wondering if there was perhaps a more realistic realization in Maud? I use 'realization,' because you could hardly call Maud a dream. Let me stop for a second and traipse down a side road. Obnoxious as you may feel that to be, I hope it makes sense why in the end.

Is joy always a by-product of love? This was yet another question my friend and I were asking during our discussion. It was a frustrating one, because if the answer was 'yes,' we were both guilty of not loving, hence the current state of apathy. So I asked, "What happens when you just have to love someone purely in your actions because there is no feeling?" You know you are commanded to do so, so you keep pressing on in acting on what you hope will become love- with feelings this time. That joy should emanate forth from such a hard fact of life was a puzzle to me. I then considered the source of joy: in this case of loving the un-lovable with your actions, the motive behind it was obedience out of love. Love for who? We would not love if there were not a Higher Authority to fill us so full of love for Him that we can't help but to obey and love in return. Both God and others. And so, with Christ our Higher Authority, being the source of love, it follows that He is the source of joy.

Here I return to the only slightly-trodden path to conclude. We cannot love solely in feeling, we cannot love solely in deed. So what do we do when the other person's actions, or our own apathy, forces us to love only with actions? I would say we must learn to look beyond our own ability to love and look upwards, towards God- who is love. Once we have fixed our eyes on Him who loved us first and through His Son has granted us even the ability to love, we cannot help but have joy. We have that joy because of our love, and in that we can take joy in loving the unlovable because we know we are pleasing our Maker.

Meet Hannah. Currently pre-occupied with learning how to love other people, and not just herself. Armed with the knowledge that

'Could we with ink the ocean fill,

And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky,'*

she is able to pursue loving Christ, to pursue joy in Him. And delight in pleasing Him. For while there are lots of times when she doesn't want to love anybody, she is able for the joy set before her.

*"The Love of God" by Frederick M. Lehman