The Finest Rose

Show me the roses that grow above the thorns.
Show me the beauty that comes in many forms.
Show me the silk that overcomes the pricks.
Show me the red among the rugged sticks.

Show me the truth that overcomes the lie.
Show me the reason why Jesus Christ would die.
Show me the victory of You over death;
Thus would I give, till nothing I’d have left.

And yet, give me grace to live alone by faith.
Why wait to obey until it looks safe?
Why wait for sight to know there’s roses there?
Why wait for beauty to reflect Jesus fair?

For it’s then I find that…

It’s easiest to feel the thorns when reaching for a rose,
Cutting deep, showing flaws, and leaving us to foes.
And in our pain, we cry out, and find that by our call
We find Jesus, the finest rose of all.

The Value of Trying

There are various posts in the works, but I suppose there isn’t much said (or anything said for that matter) that’s… “real.”

So… here I am being real!

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Oops, sorry. That still wasn’t “real.” But I thought you would enjoy that anyway.

It never ceases to amaze me how God has wired us as humans to be able to change. The brain, the body, and everything involved has the capability to learn new habits. And all too often we sell ourselves short because “we can’t do something.” Well, okay, maybe you can’t! But have you tried? Failed? Well, try again! Then try again! And again! How do you suppose sanctification is supposed to work?!

Listen. Psalm 103:14, “For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.” God understands when we fail (to an extent because sometimes we’re just plain stupid). Proverbs 24:16, “For a just man falleth seven times, and riseth up again: but the wicked shall fall into mischief.”

This semester God has been “rewiring me” so to speak. I prayed, “God, change me” and God quickly stuck His hand into the details of my life and basically was like, “So… you realize that isn’t what I would consider excellent, right?” To be frank, I have failed 100 times. And ironically enough, I’ll fail 100 more times! The best part is: that’s okay. It is the grandest privilege in the universe to try, fail, repeat the process 100 times, and still have an all-knowing God love me the same amount either way!

I’m studying for a final right now, but I thought I would take a moment to post something. It’s too bad there isn’t time to delve into tons of detail. That would be nice…

Merry Christmas!

All is Yours, All is Well

God, my dreams are wholly Yours.
My future is not mine.
My hopes and fears with all my tears
Are Yours as well, not mine.

God, my laugh is wholly Yours.
My smile is not my own.
My teeth and tongue, while I’m still young
Are Yours and not my own.

God, my past is wholly Yours:
My jumps and falls and more.
My highs and lows with the hard blows
Are Yours then much more.

God, it’s true this world is Yours.
My world is Yours as well.
My past, my now, my fate, and brow
Are Yours, so all is well.

Important Sidenote

It’s on my agenda to write the detailed story of how God has been working in my heart, but for the time being, classes are hitting me hard and there are other writing projects in the works.

Until then, I shall state the bottom line:

God is leading me to the foreign mission field and I have been accepted as Graduate Assistant into PCC’s Masters of Divinity program.

God is so good, guys! SO good… I’ll explain later in more vivid detail. 😉

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A Prelude to Silence

Though I am posting A Prelude to Silence in November of 2018, it was initially written in June of 2015, before college. This has sat as an unspoken (ironically speaking) third part to the Novelette, and after rediscovering it, I figure… “Eh, why not?”

As a further note, after three and a half years of life events and God working His unfathomable plan, I will say that there are certain views about future spouse stuff and guy-girl relationships that have changed in my mind, but I am thankful that the heart of what this Novellete speaks of remains unchanged. The characters as well retain their shimmer and connection to my heart and dreams.

Take from this what you will, as will I.

The theater was silent, and rows upon rows of empty seats faced a pair of closed curtains on the stage. Meanwhile, a peculiar draft swayed the curtains ever so slightly, creating somewhat of a haunting presence. It was completely dark in the theater, until, at the sound of a click, followed by a faint reeling sound, streams of light began to escape from between the two curtains as they retreated to opposite sides of the theater, revealing a black, empty stage lit up by the many lights above.

After this ghost-like commotion had come to a conclusion, two pairs of footsteps could be heard coming from the backstage. These reverberating footsteps grew louder and louder until a young man and young woman appeared from the shadows. They slowly strolled across the illuminated stage, coming to a  stop at the front, and with an aura of nervous reflection, faced the empty seats. The air was still, yet perfumed with the aroma of confusion, and both had many things to say, yet were at a loss for words.

“I-..” started young man, letting out a quavering exhale, “I wanted to say goodbye.” He lowered his head, knowing that this was the right thing to do, and the young woman, taking a discreet glance to her left, linked her fingers together in shyness. A moment or two passed while she tried to collect her thoughts, and though she already knew the answer to the following question, she asked, “This won’t happen again?” “No,” he replied, shaking his bowed head. He paused to inhale a shallow breath, knowing the Divine Providence of such an occasion. “It wasn’t for me to decide.” The young woman lowered her gaze, pursing her lips. With a solemn composure of gracefulness, he looked up and to his right, gently smiled, and softly spoke the words, “Thank you.” The young woman turned to her left and smiled back.

The look in his eyes seemed to hold a thousand words, yet he had sufficed to say an unspoken farewell. And so with a humble nod, she turned towards the backstage and began walking to the exit door. However, with every step that she took, the distances in between grew smaller and smaller. She could tell that there was so much he wanted to say, but didn’t say anything; as though he had a grand explanation, but took up the sacrifice of keeping silent.

Sluggishly approaching the outskirts of the backstage, she came to a halt, internally crumbling under such ambiguity. In a most disoriented manner, she quickly turned around to speak, but before a single word could leave her mouth, a cold wave of anguish overwhelmed her. The stage was completely bare, and all that was to be seen in the distance were the silhouettes of empty seats. Yet at the exact spot where he had never stood, there laid an envelope with her name on it. For a brief moment she paused, staring at it with uncertainty, but none the less, she walked towards the front of the stage and gently picked it up. She opened it with delicate fingers, tenderly pulling out the piece of paper, and carefully unfolding it. It read a few, simple words, but they warmed her heart with encouragement, and they said all that needed to be said.

Beneath those few words, however, whether she noticed it or not, there was a subtle undertone. And within such a hidden concept, there was a certain principle to be realized, which is this: just as music does not always consist of sound, but the absence thereof, so does a play on stage. Just because no one is speaking or revealing their identity, does not mean the actors have missed their cues. It does not mean the Director made a mistake, nor does it mean the plot-line has become stagnant.

And although she stands alone in a vacant theater, it does not mean that the play has not already begun. For even though the audience has yet to arrive, the Director has been busy at work, preparing and producing a masterpiece that will echo through time, whether in the world’s knowledge or simply a humble family’s legacy, but certainly in the faith-full archives of heaven. For now, however, He only asks that His two main characters (aside from the Lead Role) seek Him with all that they are, and focus on the scene at hand.

Even so, the paths have been crossed, but not yet intertwined. The costumes have been sown, but not yet worn. The set has been built, but not yet placed. The lines have been scripted, but not yet said. The blocking has been directed, but not yet done. And the cast has been chosen, but not yet realized.

As for her, she only need enjoy the show,
Because God’s plans will move mountains.
The following scenes are of seeking the Lord,

And as for the young man, well…
Silence can speak louder than words.