To Do? Life!

Study. Workout. Call (insert name). Write (insert name). Eat (insert healthier foods). Smile. Brush teeth. Apply for Grad School. Write book. Sleep. Stop eating. Better tomorrow.

Stop. 

Study. Workout. Call (insert name). Write (insert name). Eat...don't eat. Write book. Grad school? Whiten teeth. Ministry Team. (insert org) Meeting. 

Stop. 

Recycle, Recycle thoughts, recycle onto yet another doomed piece of paper. Monotony. Check Check Check. Cross Cross Cross. Sleep. Repeat.  

Stop. 

My life is a great monument of post-it notes. Pile them up in an enticing, technicolor sculpture. Let them stick, stick, stick. Indefinitely. Immobilizing. Paralyzing. Don't let one fall! They are arranged perfectly, a rainbow of neon accomplishments. DON'T TOUCH! Burry me as the silent, unmoving post-it note statue that still has more to do.

STOP NOW!

I don't wanna die! I haven't yet lived! I reach through and painfully rip off one from my eyes. I can still see that there is a light out there. I tear yet another from my mouth. Is that real air I am breathing? 

A To Do list is not a map to fulfillment. Treasure is not located at the bottom of it. The check-marks do not gain you more points towards understanding, success, perfection. The day-planner does not contain freedom. The palm-pilot does not provide the path to happiness.  

The post-its cages me in. The To-Do List equally thrills and kills me. I need to feel in control of my life. Organized. Successful. Yet I lose focus when I am enslaved to a 3x3 inch neon colored piece of paper. Since when did I stop controlling it? Since when did it start controlling me?

My miniature idols lose their glory as I realize: God measures us by who we are, not by what we do. Conversely, we do not find fulfillment in what we do, but by who God makes us to be. God wants our holiness more than our happiness. Conversely, holiness reshapes the very essence of happiness. 

I want to be present in my life. I want God to make me holy. How in the world is he going to do that if I am living vicariously through my post-notes?

Do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself. 

What is on my To Do list now? 

1. Throw away my post-it notes.
2. Live. 

The Gospel According to Lorenzo

For those of you who don't know, my car's name is Lorenzo. (Why you say? Well if you need a reason, it is foreign and nifty. I prefer you just accept the fact that I name inanimate objects.)

In the two and a half years that I have owned Lorenzo, he has had many a thing go awry. To be specific- the alternator, the transmission, the oil pan and gasket, the battery, the radio and all the buttons to go along, the brakes, etc. In short, you name it and Lorenzo has a new one. 

Now I don't know much about cars but I usually know something is wrong when my car stops working on a country road at one o'clock in the morning. (Problem #1 and revised version of problem #2) Sometimes I catch the problem while I'm still in denial of the problem happening. Every visit to the mechanic is pretty much the same. "Hey Tarry, I need an oil change. Oh and by the way, can you maybe poke around in there a bit?" "Why is something wrong?" "Oh not much, it just takes five minutes to start and makes a sound that makes me think that Jesus must be coming back, but all cars do that right?" Tarry looks at me with a blank stare with the occasional blink. Yeah, Tarry and I have great communication like that. (Problem #3-15)

Every time I have the exact same thought pattern throughout the whole process. It usually happen in this order. 

1. I think maybe I should get that checked out. No big. Just a checkup.

2. Dang it. I don't think that Tarry's look is very promising.

3. ARE YOU SERIOUS????? SOMETHING IS THAT WRONG AGAIN????

4. Oh shoot-that is a dang lot of money. My parents are not going to be happy. I hope they help me pay for this.

5. That's it. I'm just going to have to become a superhero and fly everywhere instead. It not only saves money, but it is good for the environment and I hear that guys really dig the challenge of getting a girl who can fly. 

Yet my parents always end up being so great about the whole ordeal. Thank goodness Lorenzo is once again all fixed and rarin' to go.

I can't help but wonder at the whole application of this process to our spiritual lives. (Disclaimer: I realize that the process of fixing a car and fixing a person is not even close to the same thing, but there are some parallels. Usually boys like to compare cars to important things, and this is the one exception where I will follow suit.)

Like Lorenzo, I wonder at how many times and how many places we need help as human beings. God's reaction is the always willing and ready mechanic. He understands when we tell him that we have a problem, even if we do not completely understand the terms to tell him. He understands our simple language. When we tell him that we are having trouble starting, he knows that our battery is almost dead. He sees the details of the charges, the smallest electrons taking a vacation, the lack of connection that makes everything else run in perfect harmony. When we say that something is leaking, he knows the exact place our oil pan gasket has rusted over to the point of weathering away a hole in the pan. 

Tarry explained to me the depths of the problems with my poor Lorenzo. Denial at that point was long gone as I took in the reality of the seriousness of the problems that I had just come to understand. In my life, there are days when I come to understand just how deep the problems of the world reach. Sin is so real.  We are rusty and we are failing to start and we are leaking and we are broken and we are disconnected. 

I can't help but think of how he reacts when we come to him with our problems. I'm so thankful he doesn't react like I do-"ARE YOU SERIOUS???? SOMETHING IS THAT WRONG AGAIN????" In fact, his reaction is more akin to that of my parents. He understands that something is seriously wrong, he looks at the price of the repairs, and he pays cash out of pocket to fix it, no matter the price. 

Why? Well...Grace. Love. That's why. 

In some corky way, I am reminded of God's grace by my car. I thank God for another reminder. I am always in need of a reality check. GOD GAVE HIS SON FOR MY SINS! He payed the ultimate price to fix me. Understanding the depths of my need for repair, my failure to function, and all of my rust-filled parts, I come to a better understanding of just how amazing God's grace is. There is no good reason why he saved me. No good reason why he paid the price. 

So now I am Lorenzo. I am repaired and running well. God is driving me where he wills me to go and I have never been quite so alive. 

Yay for Election Day!!

I voted today for the first time ever in the General Election. Yay for being an American Citizen. 

First Pic: After the big vote. Notice the kick a** sticker. Also...notice the perfectly placed American Flag in the background and my pumpkin spice latte (thanks Dad). Ironically, I am actually supposed to be studying for a Politics Test in that picture.

Second Pic: My BFF Stephalumps and I with the nominees. Disclaimer: the direction of the kiss is not necessarily an indication of who we voted for. ;) I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Cedarville Photography Club for supplying this grand photo. This one will go down in blogger history.

Did you vote? GO DO IT!!!!

Oh Precious Is The Flow

I knew I was doomed the day I realized I am a perfectionist. I hate when people see the weakness in me. I hate when they see me annoyed that my pants don't fit. I hate when they see me with writer's block. I hate when anyone sees me tired. I hate when I get a B instead of an A...or a C instead of a B these days. I hate when someone sees my bed unmade, my hair messy.

Worst of all, I hate when anyone sees that I care so much about what they think. 

But the truth is, I am weak. Just like everyone else. We are all weak. So what is the point in having such perfectionistic pride? 

So we screw up. Everybody does. It has been inevitable since Adam and Eve dug their teeth into the venomous juices of that fruit. We have the very same venom within us, imperfection soaring through our veins and arteries. Pumping violently to and from our heart.

Yet even with all that venom penetrating our bodies, Christians have obtained a new heart. This heart wages a brilliant war against this venom, refusing to serve the enemy by pumping the infected blood. So instead it just stops. We get pale from lack of blood flow. We lose feeling.

Once you are within God's grasp, once you ask him for a new heart, to stray doesn't just hurt. The very act makes one go numb. Haven't you ever felt this? 

So I admit. I am weak person. Yet I have accepted a heart that is stronger than my body will ever be. This heart is newly awakened from its slumber and once again I feel the energy of regular blood flow. 

There is a change in me that no perfectionist pride can hide. I want people to understand how flawed I am. In fact, maybe it is better for no one to see ME at all. Let Jillian seep into the invisible catacombs. I want them to see clearly this beautiful, strong beating heart. That is my deepest prayer. 

What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Oh precious is the flow that makes me white as snow. No other fount I know. Nothing but the blood of Jesus.