Seek the LORD while he may be found;
call upon him while he is near;
let the wicked forsake his way,
and the unrighteous man his thoughts;
let him return to the LORD, that he may have compassion on him,
and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.
(Isaiah 55:6-7 ESV)
I love this. It was read on Sunday at my church. The last part spoke to me and reminded me of God’s amazing grace. It’s beautiful and gives me hope.
(click on it to see where I got it from)
Carefree. No worries. Without care. That’s what Sans Souci means in French. This phrase showed up today on my page-a-day calendar. It reminded me of a verse I memorized last year.
Cast all your anxiety on Him because he cares for you. (1 Peter 5:7, NIV)
This one little sentence has been nagging at me for the past few days. Why? Because I haven’t been casting all of my anxieties on Christ. I’ve been doing it with some of them. The others, though, I keep forgetting about, or I don’t think they’re important.
But that’s the thing. God thinks everything is important, because, to Him, I am important. He cares about the little things just as much as I do.
So He cares about that math problem I couldn’t figure out this morning (I got it wrong, by the way). He cares that I can’t seem to remember how to make a cursive capital “S,” and that when I try, the result looks something like a pregnant duck (no joke). He wants me to be able to figure out how I’m like Pip (Great Expectations) so I can write my paper and hand it in to my mom.
He cares about everything.
So I need to bring Him everything—the good and the bad, the humongous and the tiny. Because He cares, and He’ll help me.
Today I came across this piece that I made in my much-loved, half-broken, worn notebook. I vaguely remember writing it, but don’t recall what brought around these thoughts. All I remember is that it all started with that circle on the page. I was trying to figure out how to turn a blank page with a black ring on it into a beautiful piece of art.
And then there it was. Fill half of the circle with synonyms for “beautiful,” and the other half with antonyms. And, somehow (I guess), the rest of the words just flowed from my head, through my hands, and onto the paper.
Which is stronger? A kind word, or a derogatory one?
If first: what about one’s insecurities? Would they not kill any goodness in an instant?
If second: how could men possibly be so cruel to each other? Even a weaker but nice word is better than a strong, mean one.
What on earth is wrong with this place?
Contradicting but beautiful. Large, yet so, so small. Full of idolotry and purity. Supposedly sinnless, but so broken we can’t even see our ugliness. So vain, so humble. Confusingly simple. So full of hatred.
I don’t understand this world I live in.
So I’ll cling to Christ, who will save me from this place.
This crazy, twisting, long, fantastic, odd, beautiful life means something to Him.
And I don’t mean to disappoint Him.
I never thought I’d make it to sixteen. This age has always been somewhere far away in time. It’s always been a time I’d never reach. And yet here I am, able to say I’m sixteen.
It’s kind of creepy. But that’s okay. I can handle this kind of creepy, because it comes with a lot of good, and so many new dreams and ideas I think my head is going to explode.
See, I have almost impossible goals for my sixteenth year. I don’t want to say what, because I know that the chances of them happening are negative 100%. But I can hope and dream and try my very hardest to succeed. Also, I can say this: what I want to do with this year is huge (like, so huge it feels like Mt. Everest to me). It’s something that, if everything goes as planned (*laughs*), will touch a lot of people.
But I have to trust God and pray a lot to get there. And then there’s the hard work and the concentration. But maybe, just maybe, I’ll succeed. And when I do, we can all celebrate together. And if I don’t get there, seventeen will come around soon enough.
But for now, I’ve only got a year to be sixteen, and I’m going to make it the best I can.
Today in church, we sang the hymn “What Child is This?”
Halfway through the second verse, I stopped singing and just listened. What I heard was beautiful.
While my church doesn’t have that many good singers, the sound of my family (or anyone, really) praising God with their voices was one of the best sounds I’ve ever heard. I don’t care if we sound awful. To God, we sounded wonderful and beautiful and He’s delighted with us.
And I got that. For a few seconds, I forgot what we sounded like and focused on how God felt (not that I’d really know, but you get the idea). It was nice. I felt happy to be singing for my God with my spiritual family.
I sang the rest of the song with the joy of knowing that I was doing something that made God happy. Our praises put a smile on His face, and it put one on mine too.
Sing praises to the LORD, O you his saints,
and give thanks to his holy name.
(Psalm 30:4 ESV)
On Monday, I finished The Giver. I liked it.
My mom has been trying to get me to read that book for years. Finally, I consented (see, I was planning on starting The Lord of the Rings, but my sister is reading it so she gave me The Giver).
It reminded me of all the things I take for granted. I’ve never thought of a life without color, smells, or differences. But most of all, I can’t even imagine a life without love. I couldn’t live without it. People mean too much to me (even though, at times, it doesn’t seem like I do).
Plus, without love, we couldn’t have God. Or, at least, the same God as we have now, because He’s loving. And the thought of no loving God is creepy. And scary. And really, really, depressing.
So there’s a thought for you all today, whether it makes sense or not (even I haven’t finished deciding what I think of the book, but this is what I’ve got so far).
(This post is inspired from my last Sunday School lesson, when my teacher said that you don’t have to feel guilty about praising God because He did something awesome for you. Praising Him is a good thing.)
I love Jesus because He gave me an amazing family who love me for who I am.
I love Jesus because He gave me two Christian parents.
I love Jesus because He has given me a house to call home, food to eat, and a warm bed to sleep in.
I love Jesus because He has given me amazing friends.
I love Jesus because He has given me the ability to hear, see, touch, smell, taste, read, write, walk.
I love Jesus because He will never leave my side.
I love Jesus because He will always forgive me when I ask. No matter what I do.
I love Jesus because He loved me first.
I love Jesus because He has given my sister the ability to dance beautifully, with all her heart, for Him.
I love Jesus because He will always protects me.
I love Jesus because He died for me, my family, my friends—everyone.
I love Jesus because He invented music.
I love Jesus because He has given me another day to praise Him with.
I love Jesus because He always knows what’s going on, even when I don’t.
I love Jesus because He had someone come up with the awesome idea of apple pie.