with these words

Today, as I watched Obama hiccup through his oath of office (even with my political inclinations, I must admit that it really wasn't his fault), I was struck by the power of words. It's not a novel realization -- scholars have written about it, academics have discussed it and everyone has participated in it. But to someone who has experienced some of her most poignant moments due to the impact of spoken language, it was a reflective moment nonetheless.

By saying 35 words, Barack Obama became the 44th President of the United States of America.

With 7 words ("I now pronounce you husband and wife"), two individuals become Mr. & Mrs.

The president of a university declares students with certain credentials to be graduates.

Servicemen swear an oath of enlistment.

A person becomes an American upon repeating the oath of allegiance.

"And God said, Let there be light: and there was light."


Behold, the power of the spoken word -- to change us, to create us, to redefine us.


Let us use our words, in this time, to build up rather than tear down. Even when I don't hear the words I want to hear, let mine bring unity rather than division. So that maybe - just maybe - we can speak the world we want into existence.

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turn up the music

I feel the need to preface this post by explaining that I have absolutely no idea who reads this blog. Okay, that's not completely true -- I know that my sister reads it occasionally-- but besides her, it could be an audience of many or none. It doesn't bother me, since it was never intended to attract a large crowd or garner followers galore, but sometimes I wish there was a way to reach certain people with this blog. People who to whom I want to say things but get tripped up in the execution. Maybe one of those people will stumble across it in the future and be able to hear what I wanted to communicate. And if not, hopefully I'll figure out another way.

As I'm sure is already very evident, this will be a more introspective post than some, but it's things that have been on my mind since New Year's. I haven't made any resolutions, although I'm sure that list is forthcoming. But I have been thinking on my life, on the places I've been and the people I've known, the person I am and the person I want to become. Isn't that what resolutions are intended to do anyway? They're supposed to make us pause when we've been caught up in the hectic race of life and think about what we've accomplished, what we desire, and why we're here. I don't know the origin of New Year's Resolutions (though I now intend to google or wikipedia it as soon as I'm done writing), but I truly believe that it could be biblical. And if it's not, I still believe that God can use the resolution-making process to speak to our hearts. I'm not talking about the perfunctory resolutions that we throw out when asked, like "be less grumpy in the mornings" or "lose 10 pounds." I'm talking about the ones that we craft through reflection on our highs and lows, our joys and disappointments, our failures and our accomplishments, our lusts and our desires. It requires sitting and considering what stirs our soul, what memories make us smile and what moments make us nostalgic. It is acknowledging our regrets and rejoicing in His blessings. It is identifying and cherishing the lives we've lived and the lives we want to live out.

You get the picture : )

So then, after we go through this revealing and sometimes painful examination of our spirits, we come up with a list. Sometimes this reflection manifests itself in ways that may seem "secular" on the surface, like the global resolution to lose weight in the New Year. But oftentimes that is the outpouring of a greater desire: having more energy to accomplish the ministry to which we are called, wishing to make our outward appearance reflect the fact that, internally, we are beautifully and wonderfully made, producing the "fruit" of self-control, etc. Often it's frustrating to see just how much more we want out of life. It's tempting to laugh off our Resolutions and wonder just how long it will take us to break every single one of them. Even more tempting is the feeling of the despair, urging us to shut off our desires altogether for fear of facing the heartbreak of unfulfilled dreams. [If you know what I'm talking about, I encourage you to read Journey of Desire. It really spoke to me, and I hope that it will speak to you as well.]

There aren't very many specific moments in my life that I wish I could relive. But generally, I wish that I would have paused more often to draw it all in. I very much want to be better at creating memories. Not artificially, of course, but making myself available so that memories can be made. Too often I've allowed my to-do list or my stress level to get in the way of the moments in which life happens. Don't get me wrong, I have plenty of wonderful memories and a lifetime of happiness already behind me. But I think I can highlight my two deepest desires that I have within me. Only one will I share now, because one is buried even deeper, and I'm not quite ready to bring it to the surface. This is the other one:

Wake up to the sunlight with your windows open
Don't hold in your anger or leave things unspoken
Wear your red dress, use your good dishes
Make a big mess and make lots of wishes
Have what you want, but want what you have
And don't spend your life looking back

Turn up the music, turn it up loud
Take a few chances, let it all out
You won't regret it, looking back from where you have been
'Cause it's not who you knew, and it's not what you did
It's how you live.


A few of my live out loud moments, for which I'm eternally grateful:
~ chick flick marathons on the couch across the street
~ cookie dough and Chili's chips & salsa
~ "All I Want for Christmas Is You" in the back room of Campus Visits
~ King Children's Home concert at Jaguar Creek
~ Indianapolis 2005
~ late night truth or dare at every SOBC camp, mission trip and disciple now
~ Supper Club
~ Princess Party 2007
~ Hans Bronson's Gold Medal Mission, et al
~ Sonic in the sound booth and choir robe blankets in the pews

I wish the people involved in those memories could understand how much my life was shaped through those moments. And the list goes on. Hopefully it will only to continue to get longer ...

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