truth haunts me.

truth haunts me. 

this undeniable reality, not mine to behold. 

too sweet to stomach.

too other to comprehend.

who am I that I may live preyed upon by your holiness. 

who are you that you welcome in your enemy.

that you chose to inflict the unwilling with life. 

to break into my deserved darkness.

providing light to see.  

looking at me in the blood of my war against you, casted away my shame.

stepping in with]embrace, "beloved you are mine"

you took my wounded form, and made me righteous. 

filling me with the finest of food. 

clothing me in a beauty not mine to know.

yet swaddled beneath your robe, I thought I could create a fuller life. 

I waged war against you, in that I tried to forget you. 

running away, rejecting all I know, pursuing all I desire. 

out of breathe I landed, as a corpse that you had already brought to life.

who is this God that has come so near that he has stepped into my sin, calling it his. 

that has forever been singing the song of salvation over me, even if I’m only hearing it now. 

this melody that speaks life, while I try and recreate death.

truth I need you to haunt me, for I am to prone to leave.

I am desperate for you to possess my being.

that I would be consumed by the man on the cross, and know the one who is God with us.

As my bottle empties

I think all theology should be done with beer. 

It reminds me that as I come to my thoughts, at the core of my being, I am a creature filled with vanity, desires, and pursuits. 

It reminds me that at all times I am but a drunkard trying to understand the greatest mystery. 

It reminds me that I am constantly one lusting after what is proposed beauty. 

It keeps me humble, makes me lowly. 

Shows me as a beggar on the hem of truths cloak. 

Exposes my sweet self satisfying attempts as bitter. 

Beer makes me stop and remove my facade. Makes me think, write, and speak in the truth of my depravity. 

I'm a rebel, a law-breaker, and a drunkard too. 

Beer makes me admit all of these. 

But what joy to be the destitute. To be the broken and abused. To realize the only on at fault is me. 

To see that Jesus has looked at my lowly

estate. Held my tear-streaked mocking face, giving me His righteousness and holding me tight. The love of Christ becomes more real, and far more intoxicating than any drink I have known. 

So I sit, on my steps by myself with thoughts in my head and a beer in my hand. 

I know it's not a pity to drink alone, but rather a joy to know I am not. 

Beer leaves me tipsy, that I may fall into the embrace of my Savior. 

So as my bottle empties, my cup overflows

Musings from a rainy day

13 years ago I sat in my before school program as the television demanded our attention from the back of the room. What was happening to that building? Why did my teacher look so panicked.

The replay showed what I will never remove from my memory, as 9/11 unfolded before public television. 

//

My mom loves U2. One day the song Sunday Bloody Sunday played through the cars speaker system. Mom why is it a Bloody Sunday? Why is there broken bottles under children's feet? 

That song made me realize war as a terrifying reality. "Oh how long must we sing this song."

//

Musings:

There is no way to play hide and seek with the battle between light and darkness. You are either scarred by it, or you're blind to it. The only antidote to ignorance is exposure to the darkness jolting you out of your pretend light. 

The darkness knocked the breathe out of me, forcing me to cling to the sweet oxygen of light, reviving with the sweet fragrance of purity. With the smell lingering from the light, I still know that darkness is a present truth. 

Sweetly fading sentiment belligerently wage against fragments of truth breaking through the sophistry of my facade. Learning to accept bitterness and sorrow as the main characters to the backdrop of the mirage of perfection. 

Fiction has taught me to except pain, or rather detest the fallacy of all things tinted rose. There is no glasses that can fit the ridge of the realist I have become. 

The glass is half empty, but a day will come where it will be fully full.  

-Marina

Joys, Sorrows, & Lessons. Greece Post 9

This will be my last blog post from Greece. Sunday morning we leave Leptokarya to take a 7 hour bus to Athens. From Athens we fly to Amsterdam and spend the night. Monday from Amsterdam we fly to Chicago arriving at O'Hare around 2pm.

While in many ways I don't understand my experience here are a few joys, sorrows, and lessons in relation to my leaving Greece:

Joys about returning to America:
Returning to the Sunday night prayer gathering at Moody
Flushing toilet paper
My Ukulele
Good black coffee
Fresh air non-second hand smoke infused
Internet on my phone
Understanding what people are saying
Going to my church
Drying clothes in a drier

Sorrows about leaving Greece:
Not hearing the Greek language
No more Cappucino Freddos
No more (good) Souvlaki
Not being near the Sea
No more stumbling over ruins
No more gelato
No more white houses with blue trim
No more bakeries
No more quiet hours (aka nap time)
No more (socially accpeted) olive oil on everything
Not knowing when/if I will be back
Saying difficult goodbyes

Lessons I have learned:
Daily learning who God is
What it means to live in simplicity
To learn you have to take risks
How much I appreciate Moody
God is faithful
All that God does is beautiful
The power of prayer
In Him we live and move and have our being


So long lovely land

Break My Heart. Greece Post 8

September 23-29 Ministry Week
This trip I have often been praying, "Break my heart for what breaks Yours." God answered my prayer by daily opening my eyes, splitting my heart, tearing my comfortable known world and showing me the injustice that has began to abound in His world. Our group was split into three focus groups; sex trafficking, TESOL, and evangelism. I was in the prayer for those in sex trafficking group.

Monday: We worked with a ministry that goes to the brothels in Athens and talks with the women and creates relationships with them. They offer their help, guided by the love of God, to these women in extreme compassion. As we reached the ministry we were informed that there were over 200 brothels within a 1km radius of the very building we were in at that moment. Prostitution is legal in Greece, and is seen as a part of society. Our purpose of the day was to walk through brothel row and pray. We left the building, and after a two minute walk, I saw the first light. It hung dimly above a door. It looked normal. Then I saw the next, and the next, soon they were on both sides. My stomach sank. I was sick beyond my own understanding. Frozen. Tears were filling my eyes as I thought that there were girls, no different from me, on the other side of that door whose vulnerability has been tainted. And here I was. Free.
We went back to the room were we talked about what we experience. I conveyed my anger, sadness, and confusion. The leader of this group then spoke truth that is still ringing in my mind. "Our God is Holy and just. If you feel this way, imagine how He feels." God hates sin and he hates to see his creation in this position. He is Holy and just and will redeem.

Tuesday: We went in smaller groups of 5 to Christian refugees house, encouraging them and praying for them. It was humbling to see 10 people crammed into a small house where they all lived, and yet they extending their hospitality.

Wednesday: There was a prayer walk for a neighborhood in Greece. It is known for being the most populated region of Athens, yet there is only one known Christian family. We prayed in pairs for God to bring salvation to the land, and that the streets would declare His glory.

Thursday: A group of us went to a worship service of a ministry, then got to join them in their outreach to drug addicts. I have never been exposed to something like this and honestly it was haunting. I saw images I will never un-see, and the Lord definitely broke my heart yet again. The factor that struck me the most were the volunteers of the ministry. They looked at these drug addicts with such compassion that pierced my fear. I later found out that a majority of the people volunteering were saved by this very ministry. One man had been off of the streets for 1 month and 5 days, and each day was counted as a success. All he wanted to do was tell those stuck in the very sin he was entangled in of the freedom in Christ

Friday: Rest Day

Saturday: We helped with a Kids Fest to reach out to the same community we prayed for on Wednesday. I was with the Face Painting group. That night I turned girls into kitties and princesses, and boys into superheroes.

Sunday: I woke up early, and since it was my last full day in Athens, I set out. I went to one of the Squares, and sat. I then heard singing. It was coming from a small Orthodox church near me. It sounded like the service had already started, but I entered. Idols and incense clouded my vision. I sat in one of the chairs, the only one under the age of 40 there. I watched as the attendees kissed the pictures, lit candles, and made the sign of the cross. This felt like a Holy place. As C.S. Lewis says in Till We Have Faces, "Why must holy places be dark places." This was dark. In my mind I pictured Jesus shouting "LOOK AT ME!!! LOOK AT ME!!!" Yet, they looked to Paul and Mary.

Greece, you break my heart.
I have learned that while this land is beautiful, it's just a shadow. It's a mirage. From the distance it's wonderful and perfect, as soon as you go to touch it and experience it, it vanishes. What you are left is dry dirt. Dirt. Tainted Sand.
God redeem Your land. Amen.

So long home. Greece Post 7

It's amazing how in a matter of 8 weeks Pikermi, Greece has become home. I have learned what to buy from the store, what trees have the best figs, what to order at the local cafe, what routes to go on a run, what bus to take to get to Athens, and so much more. However, now home is being uprooted and this week has had a lot of lasts.


Last run up the hill.

Last time climbing the fig tree.

Last time sitting on the roof gazing at the stars.

Last time walking to Cafe Veneti for rose cookies and an espresso freddo.

Last time sitting in the green chapel.

Last time waking up to the smell of fresh bread.

Last time sitting on the ledge near the gate watching sunrise


I knew going into this trip that we would only be at Greek Bible College during the beginning of the trip, yet this change is startling. We pack our bags, trinkets, and memories up and set out again.

Tomorrow we leave to stay in a hotel in Athens for nine days while we have a ministry week. After that we are touring Turkey, going to the churches mentioned in Revelation. Lastly, we will be finishing the trip as we stay at a camp near Thessaloniki.

I have been loving Greece, and I know it's only a matter of time before I come back. Now I hope that I can cherish every moment that I have left here.

So long Pikermi, sweet, Pikermi. It's time to continue the adventures

Mykonos. Greece post 6

This past weekend we went to Mykonos. While this island is known for it's raging parties, we were there for the thrill of a new land. For me, there is something oddly intoxicating in adventure. It lures me in with the unknown.

We rented ATVs and zipped around the land. Without a goal, we landed on the terrain of an abandoned lighthouse. 

Rolling hills, white houses, blue trim and ever present sea greeted us at every turn. 

 Mid-day we stopped at a bakery, and sat by the bay with our espresso freddos.

The next endeavor included a beach with water like crystal. 

Night rides on the ATVs, resulting in a flat tire at 11pm. 

Little Venice windmills

Sunrise, moonset

Hostel bungalow

Paradise

So long Mykonos

See this video for more info of the weekend: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wRJq8OIW43A&list=UU8RpZY-VQmXj3XNpVWTyGkQ

Good.

"How are you"
"I'm good."
"Okay... how about you give me at least two sentences on how you really are."
"Well actually....."

The girls small group here in Greece met yesterday on the roof of our college. 10 of the 22 girls were there, allowing everyone to speak. I asked the girls to tell me how they were doing, to which a simple "good, good, good" was heard. I then charged them to explain at least two complete thoughts on how they were doing. Once again we went around the circle. All started with, "I'm good, but...." then went into what would throw anyone into a tizzy, revealing that they weren't really good.

Why do we say we are good? What is good?
Are we really good? Or is it God who is good?

Cognitively, I think we all understand that God is good. I often don't believe it or see it. I look and ask God, how can this be good? What is good in this? What does good look like in this situation? God in His definition is benevolent. I don't understand goodness.
In reality, there is nothing good about me. I'm not good, but God is good.
While it feels like the ground beneath my feet is shattering, and I'm learning hundreds of things a day, and I don't know what to focus on, and I don't know what I will do after this trip, and I don't know what the heck I'm going to do with my life, God is good.
While all is crumbling, glorious, decent, or sorrowful, God is good. While I can lie about my emotions, and hide things in truth I can say God is good.

I'm not good, but God is good.

Introvert. Greece Post 5

I'm a surprising introvert. When I explain to people the necessity of my alone time, it often shocks those who are aware of my outgoing nature. Yesterday I got the escape I desperately needed.

I was planning on meeting a friend of a friend to go to there house. We were meeting at one of the squares downtown in the evening. I decided that after lunch I would go downtown, and find a place to do homework. I took the 314 bus at 15:20 down to Doukissis Plakentias, from there I rode the blue line to Monastiraki.

By 16:10 I was off, roaming the Greek city streets. My first stop was Mars Hill. I trekked up the what seems forever uphill streets, beneath the shadow of the Acropolis. Once climbing the marble steps up the hill, I found a rock to sit on. I then began reading Acts 17.

Sermon on Mars Hill 

22 So Paul stood in the midst of the Areopagus and said, “Men of Athens, I observe that you are very religious in all respects. 23 For while I was passing through and examining the objects of your worship, I also found an altar with this inscription, ‘TO AN UNKNOWN GOD.’ Therefore what you worship in ignorance, this I proclaim to you. 24 The God who made the world and all things in it, since He is Lord of heaven and earth, does not dwell in temples made with hands; 25 nor is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all people life and breath and all things; 26 and He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation, 27 that they would seek God, if perhaps they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us;28 for in Him we live and move and exist, as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we also are His children.’ 29 Being then the children of God, we ought not to think that the Divine Nature is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and thought of man.30 Therefore having overlooked the times of ignorance, God is now declaring to men that all people everywhere should repent, 31 because He has fixed a day in which He will judge the world in righteousness through a Man whom He has appointed, having furnished proof to all men by raising Him from the dead.”

32 Now when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some began to sneer, but others said, “We shall hear you again concerning this.” 33 So Paul went out of their midst. 34 But some men joined him and believed, among whom also were Dionysius the Areopagite and a woman named Damaris and others with them."

The second day of our trip, one of our professors read this passage to us. Yet after almost a month in Athens I felt the weight of Paul's words. I have seen the temple, the religiosity, and many of the things that were spoken about nearly 2000 years ago.

Once collecting myself I continued onto the next adventure, finding my new friends. I waited for nearly 30 minutes, to later find out I was standing in the wrong spot. While my plans were soon uprooted I decided to continue on in my Athens story. I wandered the streets for over two hours in pursuit of new things. There I saw the sun set over the ruins while the sound of someone playing guitar filled my ears. My night concluded with a train and bus ride back.

I arrived back on campus refreshed, renewed, and reawakened to my purpose for being here.
While I walked around Athens I was convicted of my lackluster attempts at learning. I have been given the privileged of loving languages, yet my effort has not demonstrated what I have been given. I have set goals to be multi-lingual. In thought, it would be ideal to be fluent in; Spanish, Portuguese, Greek, French, and Italian. When walking around Athens I heard a multitude of languages. My limited knowledge allowed me to identify the origin without being able to convey any of this knowledge back to the travelers. While I have a mediocre understanding of 3 out of 5, I have been called to more than mediocre.

Once again, I claim my lack of understanding, yet I claim the blessing of the pursuit of wisdom and truth.

Proverbs 23:12 

"Apply your heart to discipline
And your ears to words of knowledge."

Apology. Greece Post 4

Let me just say, I'm blessed. I have spent the last 3 weeks with some of the most amazing people. Looking around campus you would quickly come to realize that this is quite the eclectic bunch.

While the first few weeks felt like summer camp on steroids along with the beach, a new town, an unknown culture, and amazing food. Bliss, adventure, and awe would be the way I would describe the first week. There was always something going on, someone to chat with, and a new experience awaiting. I remember talking with a friend expressing that while this is fun, once reality hits the truth of personalities will be exposed. These three months abroad are not going to be pure perfection, but there will be difficulties. We will face many troubles and be confronted with a plethora of trials. 

Now that we have hit week 3, genuine connections are in the process of being made. With the connections, honesty arises. As a community we are confronted with pain, joy, unbelief, conflict, and the need for true community.

Yesterday in Christianity and Western Culture our teacher read the 39th chapter of Tertullian's Apology. 

"It is mainly the deeds of a love so noble that lead many to put a brand upon us. See, they say, how they love one another.One in mind and soul, we do not hesitate to share our earthly goods with one another."

This text was a testimony of the beginning of the Christian community, where believers willingly gave, and were truly known by their love. 

I am blessed to say that I have experienced this love. This love that can change a heart. This love that brings in those who encounter it. This love that is completely different from anything else this world has to offer. This love that has changed my life. 

Tonight we had our girl's small group tonight and we talked about our happys and crappys (also known as highs and lows) of the week, then split up to pray for each other. I wish I could have taken a snapshot of what I then experienced. I saw the girls around connect on a variety of subject matter; from pain, school, and other issues. Through prayer we were showing each other love in a way unlike what the world can experience without Christ. While I'm coming to the reality that all isn't perfect, I do see that life is a blessing. I'm surrounding by people who love Jesus, and are desiring to love the body of Christ too. 

Little Things. Greece Post 3

I haven't worn shoes in over 48 hours.

Greek yogurt is simply called yogurt.

My hair still smells like salt from the ocean even after I have showered.

I have lost 3 articles of clothing due to wind blowing them off the clothes line.

The taste of Greek chocolate lingers in my mouth.

I have listened to Acts 17 on Mars Hill.

Almost everyday since being here I have ate a fresh fig off of the tree.

I have had couscous, feta, and olives for dinner the last 4 of 5 nights.

The people at the local bakery now know my coffee order (a cappuccino freddo).

I'm training for a half marathon that runs the course of the actual marathon.

My body has scrapes all over from climbing, one from a fig tree and another from a cliff.

I have eaten from 5 different gyro shops.

Getting lost on adventures in unavoidable.

I spent 3 hours in the acropolis museum.

A stray dog followed me today for several kilometers.

I'm in the process of memorizing Philippians, in order to recite it while there.

Bread dipped in olive oil is a part of every lunch.

I have taken more naps during the national quiet hours these last 2 weeks than I did my entire year at Moody.

God has guided my heart to love this land.

Captivated. Greece Post 2

How do I explain something that I can't even comprehend when I am experiencing it?
Images I saw of Greece before I came appeared to good to be an actuality. Now as I look beyond the cove to the north of Rafina port I realize that pictures could never fully capture the depth of beauty. A picture is limited to megapixels and no amount of visual clarity can contain the warm salt breeze, the dirt gathered in my hair from the hike up the mountain, the soothing crash of water along the rocks.

The original of this article has its roots as I sit above the ledge overlooking a hidden cove, named by yours truly "Pebble Cove." While exploring the beaches of Greece a spontaneous hike ensued. At the top of a hill stood a church, of typical Greek use, meaning a mere ornament on the land rather than signifying a place of worship. Behind the church revealed a trail leading to a shore. The land broke forth exposing the beauty of what separately would seem mundane.

Cliffs broke forth revealing vegetation erupting into an array of brilliantly colored rocks. These rocks were beautiful. Pebbles of every color littered the shore line. Green, indigo, pearl, speckled, coral, stripped. Impulsively I started gathering these stones, gliding my eyes over the variety unveiling before me.

We watched gathering these pebbles for what seemed like hours. Artistry was found in the brilliance of these elements.
A thought came to mind while picking these stones. If God were to create such a thing that littered the edge of water with such elegance, how much more does He created beauty in the child He loves. The Creator of the universe crafted me in His very own image that His true beauty may be displayed. God does what is best, and He created me in the beauty He desired to proclaim His glory.

Just as these rocks beneath my toes shimmer under the sun, I do too when in light of the Son.

Truth In Pain. Greece Post 1

Greece is beautiful. I have never felt a more instant connection to a place before I stepped off the plane. Many of you know of my love for Chicago, however this is different. It's the kind of feeling of belonging, and purpose. I feel it deepen the more I learn about the culture, people, and history.

We landed two days ago in Athens, to make our way back to our new home. I looked out the window awestruck at a land unlike anything I had seen before. Cars littered the curb, along with the intriguing signs filled with Greek characters, a olive tree or grape vineyard could be seen from every direction. I was brought to silence with all that surrounded me. Even the quaint campus we pulled up to was perfect. I ate my first Greek meal of meat, tomatoes, and fresh bread. After the Greek national nap time (yes the country has quiet hours for a big meal, and siesta) we went to the Aegean Sea. Naturally with my own name meaning, of the sea, I was once again comforted with the abundant sense of peace and joy.

The next day we went into Athens to visit the breathtaking sites of Mars Hill, Syntagma square, and the Acropolis. We journeyed around the marble stone sidewalks up to Mars Hill where there was a sublime view of the city. We could see the Agora (Market), Acropolis, and the remains of the ancient land. One of our professors read Acts 17, the sermon that was initially conveyed across this hill to the scholars of ancient Greece. While praying upon this mount I heard God speaking directly to my heart. He said "See what you see, this is my land. These are my people. The Gospel was given to them, that it may be given to you. Look over this land. I feel how your heart swells with love. The only reason you love them, is because I love my people. You are here to see my kingdom. You are to proclaim Truth to the seeking ones in this land. I am with you, and I have sent you."  I looked around wondering who I could tell about this encounter, realizing I myself had no way of understanding it. The Lord of all the earth, who spoke life into the very breath of life, just spoke to my heart. He spoke to me conveying a purpose bigger than myself.

Now, a day later from when God spoke to me I sit in my bed with over 75 red, bumps, that are itchy, burning, swelling with pus, swirling me into misery. These started when initially arrived, but I hoped they would soon go away. It seemed with every passing hour that there were more, and soon my body was covered. I'm asking why? I didn't get called 5,428 miles to sit in a room in pain. The local pharmacist had never seen anything like it, a doctor visited the school who also did not know the cause of the bumps. I will be going to the doctor later to get some tests run.

While I was writing this post words "I have decided to follow Jesus" play through the speakers of my computer. No physical pain can dull the earth shattering truth of God. He is Truth. He is Faithful. He is Healer who has redeemed me from my pain. This pain that I feel does not change the fact that I have been called to Greece, to serve and fall more in love with Christ.

Even through the tears their is an eternal joy. Even through the searing pain there is peace. Even through the unknown there is hope.

God Is Good.

Sitting in O'Hare airport with my Greek phrase book in hand, all I can say is God is good. He is so good. Honestly, I can't fathom where He has taken me to where I am today. I am so amazed at the fact that after living in one of the greatest cities in the world, Chicago, I am traveling to the other side of the globe. 

Greece, here I come. 

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders, let me walk upon the waters wherever you would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander and my faith will be made strong in the presence of my Savior. 

Here I go: my only options jumping off the deep end, or being considered a no show. 

Raw.

For those you joining me in this blogging adventure, hold tight to what you know and be prepared to read something different from the social norm.

Humanity is designed by God. Humanity is created with purpose. Humanity is accountable to destiny.
Adam and Eve were created naked and bare. Original creation was most themselves when in their raw state, completely known by God and in His presence. Current creation is no different.

At the end of my freshman year at Moody Bible Institute is was a commonality to hear a classmate say, "I've changed so much!" in a way to explain the transition. This concept was a bit unsettling for me. I didn't feel that I had changed immensely, but rather that I was more myself than I had ever been.
The more we follow God, the more we become like the image we are created to exemplify, the cross.
The more we follow God, the more we find out who we truly are.

Reading Confessions by Augustine, translated by Garry Willis, I came across something spectacular. The preface reads,

"The intense innerness of the Confessions comes from Augustine's conviction that God is to be sought within ourselves, not in outward preaching or observation. Since human beings are made in God's image, God can be understood by them only through self-observation, a deep probing of one's own makeup that has made some people call Augustine the father of modern philosophy. Even Scripture, he believes, speaks within us, by God's direct inspiration. "I was outside myself, while you were inside me." He addresses God as "deeper in me that I am in me" (intimior intimo meo). His book call us back into ourselves, to our own inner depths." (xii)

My writing is an express of the call to look back at myself, at the depths of who I am.
As I write, I want it to be a raw expression. I'm a bit nervous of the response it may create in the various readers, but I want to be faithful to the conviction stimulated by the Holy Spirit in my writing. I'm flawed. I'm broken. I'm blessed. I'm more myself than I ever have been, and I love the journey God is taking me on as I follow Him.

"When Christ, who is our life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with Him in glory...Do not lie to one another, since you laid aside the old self with its evil practices, and have put on the new self who is being renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created Him" Colossians 3:4,8-9

Understand.

I watched "Eat, Pray, Love" several years ago after reading the book. Elizabeth, played by Julia Roberts, steeps in her favorite Italian word. I replay this with romantic undertones as I sought to find my word. The word that gathers life and understanding. I envy the confidence in which she proclaimed "attraversiamo," meaning let's cross over, at the end of her self exploration. Everyone deserves to find their word. The word that dances of the tongue, embodying who they were, who they are, and who they desire to be. 

In 12 days I fly off to Greece. While the trip administrators said there was no need to understand Greek, I took it upon myself be more than the typical America traveler. I started sporadically practicing the language re-writing the historic dialect in awe.There was something about this practice that seduced me. Every ounce of my desire wanted to pursue understanding and consequently I realized this language was coming natural. The alphabet turned from an intimidation to a beckoning challenge. Alpha, beta, and gamma became my new friends. 

Then I stumbled upon it. My word. It spoke to my soul through the audio recording playing through my radio. 
καταλαβαίνω(pronounced; ka-ta-la-vai-no)

I found this word coming to swirling around my dreams and expectations, while comforting my current state. καταλαβαίνω means understand. While I will probably use it's companion, Δεν καταλαβαίνω meaning I don't understand often, there is something about understanding in it's raw ancient form that intrigues me.
 
In restating Plato who claimed that through knowledge we realize our lack of knowledge, and desperate need of it. I claim Δεν καταλαβαίνω not in misery, but as a catalyst to pursue καταλαβαίνω. 

Create.

I come from a long linage of artists. Paint seems to run through the veins of both my mother and father's side. I did not get this gene. I would look through lenses green with envy at the effortless sketches that would flow from the pen of those around me. My attempts were forced, spotted with my desire to create an image different than what I was.

This past year I realized, I'm no artist, and that's okay. I will pursue the image I was created in. I will allow the Spirit of the Lord to guide my expression verse trying to force an unnatural emotion. This expression often found it's way through my relationships, cooking, and style. The array of my actions made up who I was.

During my Studying and Teaching the Bible class second semester, a group was presenting and in participation we had to draw a picture of what the 1 Thessalonian 4:1-12 passage meant to us. While I had an image in mind, I had no idea how I could recreate what exemplified my interpretation. I placed the pen on the paper, and the color started to glide effortlessly. I looked down at what I had designed and felt like the 6 year old who wanted to show everyone what she had just created. 

As soon as I had given up my dream to create, God re-installed a genuine heart to express my faith. This is something I can not force, but rather I must simply offer up my time and a blank piece of paper.  

Today I sat with the girl I mentor and told her today we are going to read Proverbs 16. As we read, I asked her what stuck out most and she replied "verse 9" 

The mind of man plans his way,

But the Lord directs his steps.

I then asked her to draw what it meant her. We spent the next 2 hours with gel pen in hand sketching. I was honored to see how liberating it was for her to contemplate and allow God to speak her fears through the bold colors, small images, and influential verse. This was beautiful. It radiated a beauty that was raw, and natural. It wasn't forced, but unraveled many thoughts that appeared to complex for understanding. 

I'm not going to say that everyone was created to reveal God's glory through art, but I will say that "Everyone who is called by My name, And whom I have created for My glory, Whom I have formed, even whom I have made" is created to express God's goodness in a way that is effortless. (Isaiah 43:7)

Gone Fishing.

My dad loves fishing. Throughout the summer it was fairly common for my dad to tug gently on my arm early in the morning asking me if I wanted to come with him. In childhood I seized every opportunity. However, stubbornness of adolescence crept in and it became increasingly rare for me to say yes. After all, fishing meant being up before the crack of dawn, and sitting in silence for hours. 

I now realize that my dad asked me, because he just liked being with me and sharing each others presence. 

This morning I was woken up similarly by God.  I heard the sweet, soft, and strong voice whisper Marina, do you want to come sit by the lake with me? 

Hearing my Father's voice, I was awakened. I followed His lead as he took me to the bay. 

Here I sat with God, expecting Him to say more. 

I then realized He from the start just wanted me to sit. 

The trees, wind, and waves speak the words of His presence. 

Psalm 143:8

Let me hear Your lovingkindness in the morning;

For I trust in You; 

Teach me the way in which I should walk; 

For to You I lift up my soul. 

Winded.

I'm a worrier. The overbearing-in-your-face-pulse-raising worrier. So naturally when a friend told me they were fasting from worrying I laughed, bursting as I said "how do you think you're gonna do that?" What seemed like the punch line of my day has become a simplistic challenge that I am failing this very moment.

You know what it feels like to fall down, and have the wind knocked out of you? That's what anxiety feels like to me. I can't breathe. I know air surrounds me, but it is as if my brain has forgotten the respiratory process. Anxiety plays me like a never ending spinning top, just when it slows down the next tizzy of life winds me up.

The latest tension has been a mysterious illness, looming deadlines, unknown financial variables, and tension in relationships. In an attempt to do it all my own I found myself lost among knots I could not undo solo. In this place I was spoon fed lies that I swallowed through the tears. This intoxicated me into the misery of clouded living believing that I was alone, and far removed from an uplifting community.

Standing at the end of my own strength, I gave up. As I fell down, I tore my walls letting help penetrate my needs. However this remedy was far different than expected, and all addressed today.
The illness was simply vertigo, and acid re-flux.
The deadlines were issues out of my hand, and taken care of today.
The financial need was fulfilled by the sacrifice of someone close to me who I am daily more amazed by and love dearly.
The tension in relationships were a variety of misunderstanding.



Matthew 6:25-34 (Paragraphed in my Bible as "The Cure For Anxiety") is often referenced in the midst of worries.

The Cure for Anxiety25 “For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? 27 And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life? 28 And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin, 29 yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you?You of little faith! 31 Do not worry then, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear for clothing?’ 32 For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.34 “So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

When looking at this passage in hindsight I am realizing that God often addresses our needs differently than expected. At first, while all my needs had been provided for I stood confused trying to fit back in the shell of discomfort, because what was "added to me" wasn't what I needed. It wasn't the rescue I was picturing, it was far to grand for my mind to comprehend.

That's the way Jesus rescues though, in a way that is far to grand for my comprehension. His saving transcends my understanding and goes beyond expectation.

Thank you Jesus for being dressed in the very words of faithful and true.
Thank you Holy Spirit for providing peace like a river.
Thank you Father for your discipline that exhibits your love.

Salt In A Cut.

Being told you did something wrong when you already know, feels like salt in a cut. However, I must remind myself one doesn't intentionally put salt in a cut, it happens through life. You sweat, eat some french fries, attempt to take a bath. Then the sting hits you.

I knew it was wrong, but that's the way sin is. There is the gut reaction within ourselves that loathes what we are about to do, then the sweet satisfaction of priding ourselves above rules and indulging in desire. I did it because I was jealous. This insult tasted sweet upon my tongue, and made me feel like I had finally one up-ed her. After all, I am the better one right?

What looked sweet, seared my skin when I realized what I had done. Her dull reaction said it all. I hurt her. My words provoked a sense of loss. I built her up, to take her down. I attempted to steal something that God had given her, the truth of her identity. At this moment, I was no better than the serpent. I twisted the words of God who spoke identity into her life, and replaced it with frilly letters that spelt out "fake."

I was wrong. I knew I was wrong. Then, I was told I was wrong.
Now with salt in my self imposed cut, I hurt for her. While my wounds of produce death, Christ's wound heal. For "by His scourging we are healed." Isaiah 53:6