Italy

Sitting around the table, voices lilting up and down; the candlelight reflecting on laughing faces as the shadows dance in patterns on the wall.
"You're going to miss this", my head says.  "Shut up", I tell myself.  But over and over, all I can hear is that voice, telling me to take it all in because when I leave, I will never know the feeling of home as I know it right now.  I will be different, changed...and yet somehow the same person.  Not so naive, maybe a bit more hardened.  Still confused, still not knowing what to expect, but hopefully more full of faith than I am now.  Hopefully more fearless and less doubting than I feel currently.  Not full of wondering if traveling halfway across the world is the right thing to do; not wondering if things will be changed so much that I won't fit in anymore.

Fitting in is never something I've been good at doing.  I get along with people and I have a gift of being able to understand and feel others' pain, but I rarely feel as though I fit in.  Maybe I'm not meant to; I don't know.  There are a few places where I feel as if I belong and I guess I'm scared that a prolonged absence will change the few places I feel safe.  But growing up isn't about being safe, is it?  It's about stepping out of my realm of normalcy and trying to live life the way an adult has to.  Learning the hard way, through my own mistakes and rash decisions - figuring out what is solid ground and where my life contains quicksand.  Trying to grasp the idea that life is a vapor in the wind and the things that seem to loom over me at the moment are really irrelevant compared to what comes after this life.

Life is a learning process.  My parents always say that the minute you stop learning, that's the minute you die.  So, I'm learning.  I'm learning to love, even when it hurts to let go.  To never give up on something that seems impossible, because if it's supposed to happen, God blesses the effort.  I'm learning that every tear and every heartache and every trial is just boiling down the dross to reveal the silver.  Because we all have silver; it's just buried deeper for some of us.

So now...I welcome Italy.  I welcome the joy it will bring me, the tears I will inevitably shed, the memories I will cherish, and the relationships that will develop.  I welcome the pain of growing up, the challenges of keeping strong relationships while an ocean separates us.  I welcome it with open arms because it's going to change me in ways that will glorify my Creator.  Every single thing I go through will cause me to either fall on my knees in sadness or joy - but my knees is where I need to live my life.
So now...I think I'll go buy some knee pads.  Because I'm going to need them even more than I do right now.

Can't you sleep?

Most kids I know grew up hearing children's books read to them and in time, read them to their own siblings.  (I'll admit, I'm still a big fan and continue to peruse such "children's" books on rainy days.)  One of my favorites is by Martin Waddle and titled, "Can't you sleep, Little Bear?".  Before I rush into things, let me give you a quick synopsis of this book.

Big Bear and Little Bear live in a giant cave.  One night, Big Bear tucks Little Bear into bed, but Little Bear cannot sleep.  Little Bear says he's scared of the darkness all around him.  So Big Bear brings out a tiny lantern for Little Bear and tucks him in once more.  Little Bear's fear is voiced again and again as Big Bear attempts to quell his fears by bringing out larger and larger lanterns.  After the cave is flooded with light from the largest lantern, Little Bear should have no reason to complain of darkness, and yet he tells Big Bear that he's still scared of the darkness outside.  Thoughtfully, Big Bear picks up Little Bear and carries him outside to watch the moon rise.  Once they're bathed in the moon's light, Little Bear falls into a deep sleep, comfortable and safe in Big Bear's arms.  Cute story, right?  Now let's take it from a different perspective!

Think about you, the Christian, as Big Bear.  Picture Little Bear as the people who are lost and scared and searching.  We provide comfort and light to those who need answers.  Maybe our light starts as an itty bitty lantern, but no matter where it starts, it must lead to the moon.  As the fears and questions are voiced, our light shines brighter as we speak and glorify the One who has made us whole and justified.  Pretty soon, our light will not be able to get brighter, so we point to Christ, the brightest light that there is.  And when we bring the restless and burdened and questioning people to that point, that is when they find rest and peace and answers.

Let's be faithful to step out and be the tiny spark that can lead to the bright Light - the power of Christ is with us, so what can stop us?!  Step out in faith, even when you're weary this week, for great is your reward in heaven.

<3 Mik

Communion

When I think of communion, I must confess that my first thought is of grape juice and broken up crackers.  To a non-Christian, communion must seem like a completely stupid and meaningless thing that we do every so often, just because we get hungry in church.  Oh, how little truth there is in that thought!  Communion has nothing to do with grape juice and crackers, but so much to do with the Man who sacrificed Himself so that we can live with a hope and a joy that can never be smothered.

Communion is normally something that passes pretty much in the same manner every time; the elements get passed around, the pastor takes a passage from 1 Corinthians, there's a prayer, and then you drink the grape juice and eat the broken cracker.  End of story, right?  Not so today!  I was on the point of zoning out when my pastor said something that I've never contemplated before.  I tried to put it in my own words; here's what struck me today.  When we take communion, we not only declare our faith to those around us, but also to the spiritual realm; to principalities - angels and demons alike.  And I thought about it and realized woah, this is interesting!  So, what he's saying is that when we take communion and strengthen our relationship with our Savior, we're being spiritually marked.  And I got this picture in my head of all of us sitting in our chairs and above us, on one side, angels.  And on the other side, were demons; neither group doing anything but looking down, and as I followed their gaze, I saw they they were looking down at our heads and there were markings on the tops of our heads.  I can't explain to you exactly what the markings looked like or what they were made of, but they were a deep maroon color and they were only over the heads of those who have a personal relationship with Christ.

It never occurred to me that we might have marks on us.  It makes sense to me now, but I confess that I haven't thought it over before today.  It actually fills me with awe, to realize that everything we do is marking us; not just in this realm, but also in a realm that we can barely catch a glimpse of.  It gives me something to consider and wonder about and it also gives me reasons to alter some of my would-be actions.  How about you? 

<3 Mik